Ultimate Nyssa Glass H. Burke (bookstand for reading .txt) 📖

number on the next building to make sure she was headed in the right direction, she walked two doors down. The folding door, wide enough for a small dirigible to pass through, was pulled up. It shadowed the entrance like an awning, making it too dark to see far inside even with her goggles. Every muscle in her body tightened, but she forced herself forward.

Hugging the wall, Nyssa slipped inside.

Stacks of crates lined the walls, creating more shadows. The middle of the large space, easily four steam cars in length, sat empty. She flipped through the settings on her goggles, looking for any sign of traps or ambush. No one here, though something small and round sat a little way from the rear wall, letting off a faint electromagnetic field.

Not wanting to be cornered, she turned to go.

Something crackled behind her.

She whirled to face the round object which now radiated a harsh, white light. A beam shot from it onto the wall. Nyssa’s heart leapt to her throat. Then the beam widened, and a moving picture began to play.

Settle down. It’s just a projector, you ninny.

Mr. C’s image filled the wall, and Nyssa’s pounding heart ached. His familiar face. She’d forgotten how accustomed she’d grown to his kind eyes. Now, however, his death approached, and just like before, she could only watch. She was there, too, standing behind Mr. C. Her face appeared oddly stoic, not how she’d pictured herself in that horrifying moment. Of course, in that moment, she’d had no idea what was coming next.

“Where are you?” Nyssa shouted. “What do you want?”

Can I just snatch the projector and run? Is the evidence I need right here?

She started towards the projector, but a loud, grating creak jolted her attention to the door. It was closing.

Nyssa dodged for the projector, snatched it up, then bolted for the door. A sharp pain pierced her neck, like a bee sting. She put her hand to the injury, and something cold and smooth met her touch … a glass bead, but with a sharp bit embedded in her skin. She pushed it away. Her vision blurred. Her knees buckled. She fell, the projector and her bug-zapper skittering across the floor.

As darkness fell, she thought of the handheld in her satchel. She thought of Ellis and what he’d think when he found her gone. She thought if she could just cry out, maybe someone would help her. Then all was black and she thought no more.

Chapter Four

Ellis rolled out of his bedroom and down the hall. It was early, and since they didn’t open the shop on Saturdays, he had no real reason to be up. However, sleep evaded him. No matter how many sheep he’d counted, the miserable failure of his date night with Nyssa still taunted him.

The smell of strong, dark coffee wafted from the kitchen. Ellis entered the room and took his place at the table.

Mrs. H, their elderly housekeeper, glanced up from the stove, the wrinkles in her olive skin deepening around her blue eyes. “I thought you might’ve been out late last night, so I opted for coffee instead of tea. I don’t prefer the taste, but it does open one’s eyes, doesn’t it?”

He smiled, though he didn’t feel it. “Yes, it does.”

Her graying eyebrows drew closer together. “So … last night?”

“What about it?”

She stepped away from the stove and set her fists against her wide hips. “Now don’t play games with me, Master Ellis. I’ve seen the signs. Besides, you left a jeweler’s receipt in your trouser pocket. I found it when I was doing laundry.”

He laughed. “You’d make an excellent detective, Mrs. H.”

“That I would.” She stuck her chin in the air. “Now, you look like you’ve been through the wringer, so either she said no or …” She tilted her head to one side.

Ellis sighed. “I didn’t ask. The evening was one misstep after another, and I figured it was best to regroup and try again at a later date.”

“Ah.” Mrs. H returned to her cooking. “So, what now?”

“I need a new plan. Things were going so well, but Nyss isn’t going to be happy as long as this policewoman is stalking her.”

Mrs. H snorted. “I bet if you’d gone through with your plan, she would’ve been happy.” She set a china cup filled with steaming black liquid in front of him.

“Maybe.” Ellis rubbed his legs. “I’d rather try and solve the problem of Detective O’Hara first, then propose while I’ve got the positive momentum.” He raised the cup and inhaled. His thoughts cleared. “The only problem—other than that I don’t have a concrete plan for being rid of the detective, I suppose—is she took the gift, so now I’m on a tight schedule. It’s only a matter of time until she opens the handheld communicator and sees what I put there.”

“Oh goodness! Just ask her already. A girl like Miss Nyssa doesn’t want a fancy candlelight dinner anyway. I mean, she might like one, but she doesn’t need it. You two have been ready for some time now, as far as I’m concerned. Ask her and then head for the courthouse. No need to make a production of it.”

Ellis concentrated on his coffee. Maybe I am making this too complicated. Marriage is a big step, but I’ve been ready for a while now. But has she?

He could remember his first hesitant steps with Nyss, the gentle kisses that always seemed to catch her by surprise, how she’d acted like she expected him to bolt at any moment for the first several weeks. Being with her gave extra meaning to everything he did, but he wanted more. He wanted to wake up to her beside him and feel her warmth while he slept at night. He wanted forever.

“Yeah, I just need to ask. Maybe on the boardwalk. She loves watching the waves. It’ll set the right tone.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Mrs. H cracked an egg into a cast iron pan. It sizzled. “Eat