Page 16 of Noel Secrets
“He tried to get in here. That’s not nothing.”
“Michael.” She cut him off, her tone sharp as a snapped icicle. “Let it go. Find out why the train stopped instead of interrogating me.”
As if on cue, a knock rattled the cabin door, followed by the sound of the conductor’s voice urging everyone to calm down. The corridor buzzed with mutters and worried questions. Michael opened the door, and the conductor explained, “The train hit something. An animal, most likely. With the snowstorm, we had to stop and check the tracks. We’ll be moving again shortly. Everyone, please return to your cabins.”
Michael nodded but didn’t release the man immediately. “Be on the lookout. A man in a hat tried to barge into this cabin. Not drunk—deliberate.”
The conductor’s expression flickered uneasily. “We’ll keep an eye out.”
Jayda crossed her arms tighter, her glare practically scorching at Michael. “You’re exaggerating. He was probably under the influence and got confused about his room.”
She turned away from him to face Simon. “Thank you for helping with the boys. You were wonderful.” Her smile for Simon was soft, grateful, the smile Michael had never seen her aim at him. “You’re so kind, Simon. You’ll make a good father someday.”
Simon flushed, ducking his head modestly, eating it up.
Michael wanted to punch the wall.
“Could you help me bring the twins to Ginny?” Jayda asked, placing her trust squarely in Simon as if Michael wasn’t standing two feet away.
“Of course.” Simon gently herded the boys toward the door.
And just like that, Jayda, Simon, and the twins disappeared down the corridor, leaving Michael alone in her cabin, seething.
He raked a frustrated hand through his hair. How could she dismiss what just happened? How could she not see this wasn’t some random lost or drunk person but something calculated?
She had to know. She wasn’t being honest for a reason.
And Simon, playing the part of the noble protector, soaked up Jayda’s thanks while Michael stood painted as the nuisance. Simon was up to something too. The guy hovered too close, too eager. Michael meant to find out what was going on with both of them.
As he turned to leave the cabin, something on the floor in the corridor caught his eye. A folded piece of paper, almost camouflaged against the shadows on the floor.
He bent down and picked it up. The edges were creased from being handled. Curious, he unfolded it.
A list of names stared back at him, twenty in total, scrawled in a neat but hurried hand. Each name carried a checkmark beside it—except for the last two.
Veronica Carlisle and Jayda Simone.
Jayda’s name was written there, stark and undeniable. Unchecked.
His stomach dropped.
The air seemed to thin around him as his journalist instincts flared into overdrive. Michael sat down on the edge of the bunk and pulled out his phone, quickly typing the first name into a search bar.
An obituary popped up instantly. Dead. Car crash.
Second name—another obituary. Fire.
Third—accidental drowning.
His pulse pounded harder with each search. Every single person on the list was dead. Strange accidents. Convenient accidents.
It didn’t take long before the conclusion crystallized in his mind, cold and certain.
This was a hit list.
A hollow dread pooled in Michael’s chest. Whoever had barged into Jayda’s cabin wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t lost. He was a hitman.
And Jayda was on his list.
