Page 9 of Criminology of a Character

Eager to see Eamon, she angled toward their bungalow, but as she stepped onto the palm tree-lined path, a man rounded a bend in the walkway and plowed into her. She stumbled, almost crashing to the pavement, but he reached out with lightning speed and caught her biceps.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you. Are you all right?” he asked as he steadied her.

“I’m fine.” She brushed her hands over her sundress and offered him a polite smile. He was a handsome brunette in his thirties, but not one she recognized. She’d encountered many of the same vacationers on this path since it was the only lane to the bungalows, but this man was a stranger.

“Good, I would’ve hated myself if I’d hurt such a lovely creature.” He bowed his head slightly, and she unconsciously dipped hers in response. “Have a nice day, Mia Cara.”

“You too.” Bel started to lift her gaze as he sidestepped her, but the flash of gold on his shoes froze her where she stood. Chains. There were golden chains on his loafers, exactly like the strangerwho’d kissedher hand when she’d first arrived on the island.

“Mia Cara,”she whispered as she whirled around. He’d called her Mia Cara, just like the man in the lobby, and beforeshe realized she was moving, she was racing down the path after him.

Bel burstinto the resort’s lobby and scanned the guests for the stranger. He was wearing the same shoes as the brunette who’d flirted with her, and while she’d only seen him for a few minutes, her memory was reliable. She knew what the flirt who’d called her Mia Cara looked like, and the man who just knocked her over decidedly wasn’t him… only something in her gut told her he was.

Spotting the back of his head, Bel darted after him. If she could catch another glimpse of his face, it might explain why this stranger felt like the same man from a week ago, but he was moving too quickly. Before she reached the exit, he stepped into a waiting sedan and was whisked away down the lane.

“Can I help you, Miss?” a resort attendant asked, and realizing how wild she looked racing through the lobby, Bel forced her features to relax.

“No, thank you.” She smiled. “I thought I recognized someone. My mistake. Have a nice day.” She turned on her heels and calmly exited onto the path, breaking into a jog the second she stepped out of sight.

“Hey. Let me change, and then I’m all yours,” Eamon said as she flung open their bungalow’s door. “Is there anything you’d like to do before we meet the Victors for dinner?”

“I need you to make sense of something for me because my brain’s freaked out,” she said by way of greeting.

“Are you all right?” Eamon froze with his polo shirt halfway over his head.

“Yes, I’m fine, but I’m worried I’m seeing things, so can you help me explain something?”

“Okay.” He resumed removing his shirt before sitting on the sofa. “What happened?” He gestured for her to join him, and Bel sat down as she recounted the last few minutes.

“So, you believe two men with two different faces are the same person?” he asked when she finished speaking.

“Yes.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Griffin was right. I need this vacation, because all these crime scenes, witches, and magic have me seeing things.”

“You needed this trip, but not because you’re seeing things.” He tugged her into his lap. “I didn’t see the connection when you first figured out Henry Knight was Hook, but I believed you, so let’s walk through this. You saw two men with two distinct faces, but their voices, hair, shoes, and unusual phrases were identical?”

“Correct, and while witches powerful enough to wield black magic can alter their features, you would’ve sensed if he had power, right?”

“He had no magic,” Eamon confirmed. “So, there must be a human explanation. Could it have been his brother? Siblings, especially twins, often have similar fashion and conversation styles.”

“That would make sense, but I can feel it.” Bel tapped her chest for emphasis. “That’s not it. They were the same person. I can’t explain why I feel this way. I just do.”

“Okay, so they’re the same man, but without shifter magic.” Eamon paused as he considered the possibilities. “Botox? Plastic surgeons founded the charity we’re here to support, so there are dozens of doctors on this island capable of giving injections. Maybe he got some work done during his stay, and that’s what’s throwing you off.”

“Botox?” Bel repeated as she mulled over the possibility. “That could explain it, I guess, but his face looked so different. Would that alter someone that much?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never needed plastic surgery—or any surgery, for that matter—so I’m the wrong person to ask. But it’s possible. Or what about an allergic reaction? Swelling can change someone’s features.”

“He wasn’t swollen, so Botox is the most logical explanation.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I were of more help.” Eamon pulled her closer, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “But without seeing him, I can only guess.”

“It’s okay. You helped.” She planted a quick peck on his cheek. “Your ideas make more sense than mine, so thanks. I feel less crazy.”

“Stop calling yourself crazy. We both know you aren’t. After watching Ewan shift from man to bear, it’s impossible to ignore things the mind can’t explain.”

“Have you seen him shift?” she asked. Ewan Orso was Olivia Gold’s boyfriend and a bear shifter. He was muscular in his human form, but his animal was monstrous. Witnessing histransformation during the Darling case had almost made Bel sick.

“I have. It’s unsettling,” Eamon answered.

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