You Owe Me a Murder(17)

Alex’s face broke into a wide smile. “Judas.” He grabbed me and spun me around. “You’re a freaking genius.”

Warm waves of satisfaction ran through my chest. I’d figured it out. The question that had been driving everyone else crazy for the past hour hadn’t bested me. I felt the rush I got when I knew the answers in class. Maybe the ghost of Anne Boleyn figured I deserved the answer since we’d both been overthrown by a guy who moved on pretty quickly to the next model. She would have moved on too—?if they hadn’t cut off her head.

“No big deal.” I waved off the praise.

“Are you kidding? I think they should put up a plaque here: This spot is where the divine Kim Maher solved the unsolvable.”

I liked the admiration in his eyes. He really was impressed. He didn’t rush to point out what questions he’d figured out or make it seem as if it hadn’t been that hard. He was honestly happy for me.

“You got the question about heraldry right,” I pointed out.

“True.” Alex seemed to be pondering. “It’s possible we’re an unbeatable team.”

I smiled, liking the sound of that.

“Let’s go find Tasha and the other leaders,” Alex said, grabbing my hand.

An electric shot ran up my arm where we touched and I noticed he didn’t let go. We wove through the crowds of tourists. That’s when I spotted her.

Nicki.

I stopped in place. Is it her? She’d turned so all I could see was the back of her head. I pulled away from Alex.

“I’ll be right back,” I called to him over my shoulder.

I swam through the people, trying to reach Nicki. What were the odds in a city of nearly nine million I’d bump into her? Nicki walked toward the White Tower in the center of the complex. “Excuse me,” I mumbled to people as I tried to catch up with her.

“Nicki!” I called out.

The woman stopped and turned, looking around as if she’d heard her name, but I still couldn’t see her directly. Then she started moving more quickly toward the chapel.

I picked up my pace. I didn’t want to lose her. The center courtyard was jammed with people. I couldn’t see her anymore. Shit. I jumped up, striving to see over the mass of humanity. She might have gone inside. I stepped closer to the door for the Martin Tower, and a large man wearing a cowboy hat grabbed my arm.

“Hey, we’re all in line!” He pointed to where a winding snake of people behind him all waited to get in to see the crown jewels.

“I’m not trying to cut—?I’m just looking for my friend.”

He snorted, indicating his disbelief. “Sure, sweetie.”

I felt my nostrils flare in annoyance. Before, I would have mumbled an apology. But not anymore. “I’m not your sweetie.” I spun around so I could keep looking for Nicki.

“You tell him, darling,” a Southern voice called out.

I spotted Nicki. She must have somehow doubled back, as she was now walking toward Wakefield Tower and the exit.

I picked up my pace. If she left the complex, I’d never catch her.

A tour group surged forward, cutting me off. I slammed into the back of an elderly man, who stumbled. Another guest grabbed his arm so he wouldn’t fall.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, horrified at what I’d done.

“No running on Tower grounds,” a Yeoman Warder bellowed at me. He was dressed in the dark blue and red livery, the red crown crest across his chest. His voice was loud and bounced off the thick stone walls.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized again. Why did I have to be so uncoordinated?

The old man waved me off with a smile. “No harm done.”

I glanced back toward the gate, but Nicki was gone. If it had even been her in the first place.

“There you are,” Alex said, jogging up. “You okay?”

I motioned toward the entrance. “Yeah. I thought I saw someone I knew.” I felt a pang of loss. It would have been nice to see her.

“We should go. Tasha’s getting everyone together. We’re supposed to be on the bus in a few minutes.”

“Why? We haven’t even done the Yeoman Warder tour yet.”

“That loud guy in our group? Connor? He fell and did something to his knee, or ankle, so we’ve all got to go back.”

Connor was normally super coordinated. The kind of guy who never caught a ball with his face instead of his hands. Being clumsy was my skill. He must have jet lag to have stumbled. Alex saw something in my expression, but he misunderstood it. He held up a hand. “No worries, I made sure we turned in our sheet. We were the only group to get all the answers. The tickets are ours.”

“What show?”

Alex bounced on the balls of his feet. He moved fluidly, like a cat. “Two seats, Phantom of the Opera, for this weekend!”

“You didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would be into musical theater.”

“You have no idea of the things I’m into. I’m a complex man of the world, you know.” He cocked his elbow out for me to take. “M’lady, may I have the pleasure of your company for an evening at the theater?” He dragged out the last word with a thick fake accent.

I linked arms with him. “Why, I would be delighted.”

“Then it’s a date,” Alex declared.