When Lloyds Collide, An Urban Fantasy Mystery: Noctis Investigations, Book 3 by Matt Armstrong

Author:Matt Armstrong [Armstrong, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

Chocolate lip balm tantalized my lips. Shea butter and cocoa permeated my nose, mixed with a hint of baby powder deodorant. Subtle citrus notes from her conditioner still lingered from her morning shower. We may as well have been in the Noctis, for in that moment, nothing else existed. We stood together as one, inside oblivion, the only two people left in the universe. Our mouths didn’t move, our hands never wandered, and neither made a sound, locked in a kiss for a single moment that lasted for eternity.

She flowed through me, washing away all anxiety, uncertainty, and doubt. Every concern shattered and disappeared. The sludge on my soul recoiled, fighting against it, crying out in the darkness. Miri wrapped a metaphysical hand around its throat, and it shuddered and went limp, melting away and evaporating in the warmth of her spirit. The dark thoughts fled, creatures in the night scattering over the shattered walls of my subconscious. Our souls intertwined, merging, and we became one inside a splice in time.

When she pulled away, I became lost yet found. We opened our eyes, our cheeks both wet with tears. She stared into me, silent in longing, with her hand still clenching my shirt.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I know,” she responded, her lips curling into a joyful smile. “I’ve known longer than you have.”

“Because you cheat.”

“Because I have eyes.”

“They’re beautiful eyes.”

Miri’s phone rang.

“Ignore it,” I said.

“It might be important.”

“I don’t care.”

The phone rang again. “It could be Simon. I asked him to look into a few things.”

“He can leave a message.”

“I have to answer it.”

I sighed, resisting the urge to grab the phone and throw it against the wall, and slumped my shoulders. “Fine. Back to reality.”

She fished her phone from her purse and announced, “It is Simon.”

“His timing is terrible,” I grumbled.

Miri swiped the answer button. “Hello, Simon. I have you on speaker.”

“Oh, yes, okay. Hello, Miri,” said Simon’s nervous voice.

“How’s your back?” I asked.

“If you continue to ask me that question, I will slash your tires,” he informed me in a high-pitched, monotonous tone.

“Are you sober? In the evening?” I questioned.

“There was a hiccup with my dealer’s bail.”

“You can literally buy weed at a store now.”

“It isn’t clean.”

“What have you found, Simon?” asked Miri, interrupting.

“Allen Richardson, on paper, did not exist until a year ago, but his documentation is professional grade and legally binding. Despite zero proof of identity beforehand, they would hold up in court. Only someone with government connections could do this work. Whoever he was before becoming Allen Richardson, someone was tracking his movements. I found his facial recognition archives on CCTV footage embedded in CIA back channels. He was sighted in Mexico, Nevada, New York, and here in Calgary.”

Bradstone, I mouthed to Miri.

“Simon, why are you scanning CIA back channels?” Miri asked. “You are good, but that is dangerous.”

“I always do. They have never noticed.”

“Still. What else have you found?”

“Johann Sebastian is also an assumed identity, specifically created for the rebranding of Bauer Enterprises. Whoever made his credentials was not the same as Allen Richardson.

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