Ultimate Nyssa Glass by H. Burke (best value ebook reader .txt) 📕

I have to get a hold of that video, but how can I not tell Ellis? She scanned the room. Is whoever sent this watching me right now? None of the diners seemed to be looking in her direction, except O’Hara.

Doubt trickled into Nyssa’s hope. A trap? But the recording proves there is video out there. She swept the black case, the player, and the note off the table and into the small handbag she’d brought with her.

Ellis wheeled into the dining room.

Nyssa’s stomach tightened. I have to find a way to tell him. Pass him a note? No, if someone is watching, they’ll see that. Wait until we’re home alone? But what if the sender finds out somehow and makes good their threat? My only hope to prove my innocence will be gone forever. No, for now, I’ll have to keep this from Ellis. He’ll understand.

Ellis settled across from her. “The host says we can move tables. There isn’t a private dining room available on such late notice, but at least we can be a little farther from unwanted scrutiny.”

She nodded. Her handbag felt heavy on her lap.

“You still seem flustered.” He reached for her hand. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, but all she could think about was the mysterious message and the secret it forced her to keep.

Chapter Three

Gas streetlamps glinted on the plate glass windows as the steam car pulled up in front of their shop. Nyssa barely stifled a sigh. In spite of the relocation, she’d still imagined all the other diners and most of the wait staff were spying on her. She’d barely gotten down half her meal, which was a shame because she’d always wanted to try lobster. It sounded so fancy in books and articles. Ellis, also, had spent a lot of time glancing over his shoulder, and their conversation had been half-hearted at best.

When they entered the shop, he groaned. “That could’ve gone a lot better. Nyss, I owe you another date.”

“No, it was fine,” she lied.

The irradiated hands of the wall clock showed just before eleven. She still had an hour to get to Hangar 32, and an hour to decide whether or not to tell Ellis about it.

“Yes. Well, it could’ve gone better.” He cleared his throat. “You still have your present, right?”

“Of course.” She drew it from her bag, her fingers brushing against the leather case.

“Oh good. Just … don’t lose that.”

Nyssa opened her mouth. They were safe now, at home. She could tell him about the message.

Lights flicked through the shop. A steam car with bright headlamps rolled slowly down the street. It stopped and idled across the road, the hum of the motor distant but unmistakable. She tensed.

Are they watching? O’Hara knew we’d be at the restaurant. Maybe she’s been watching for a while. Maybe she has a listening device planted somewhere. What if someone is listening now?

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a headache,” Ellis said. “I’m going to go to bed. Tomorrow things are going to be better if I have to toss that detective off this island myself. I promise.” Guiding her down, he kissed her then wheeled out of the shop and down the hall.

Nyssa drew a deep breath before hurrying upstairs to her room. Ellis will understand. I just need to do this. I’ll leave a note.

She changed out of her gown into her trousers, a white blouse, and gray peacoat. Even in tropical San Azula, it could be chilly near the waterfront after dark. By the time she finished and crept back downstairs, the light was out under Ellis’s door.

When she reached the workshop, the strange car was gone, but she still felt as if someone might be watching.

Trading her handbag for her satchel, she placed the video player and the mysterious note on Ellis’s workbench then took out her notepad and wrote, Ellis, I’m sorry, but someone has a video of Mr. Calloway’s murder. They offered me a copy, but I need to meet them in private, without telling anyone, even you, or they’ll destroy it.

I can’t risk losing this evidence. I know it’s dangerous, but I promise I will be careful, and if they really can help me prove my innocence, it’s worth it. I will try to be back before you even notice I’m gone, but if not, I love you. I have your handheld communicator with me.

Placing the notepad beside the recording device, she found the bug-zapper, and threaded its barrel through her belt. She slipped her goggles on her head. With a prayer, she left through the kitchen door, into the back alley. Trolleys didn’t run this late, so she would have a long walk to think about how much of a risk this was. Still, she couldn’t let this chance slip through her fingers.

***

A half dozen cigar-shaped zeppelins hovered like dark clouds over the waterfront. Smaller craft bobbed in the wind, attached to their mooring towers. The sting of salt and stench of fish permeated the air. Search lights crisscrossed over the airfield, coming from the long, blocky hangars.

She pulled out her pocket watch. 11:45. Some time left. Good, because she wasn’t sure which hangar was hangar 32. Switching her goggles to their night-vision setting, she headed for the first in line, a smaller building without the exterior lights of the bigger hangars closer to the field.

Her footsteps crunched on the gravel path, loud in the silence. She winced and gripped the bug-zapper. This area didn’t seem to be guarded. No lighting, no fence to keep out vagrants. Perhaps nothing of value was stored here, but from the cracks in the windows and the weeds that had sprung up through the path, she guessed some of these buildings were simply abandoned.

She turned the corner. On the wall of the hangar, in fading, peeling paint, was the number 35.

“Almost there,” she whispered.

After she checked the