We last read Chapter 38, in which Sapphire Angel descends from the rafters of the warehouse to save Conner from two waves of armed gunmen. Conner and the heroine slip away together, and, in a charged moment, she imitates a kiss with Conner. After several moments, Conner breaks off the kiss, saying he “can’t do this.” Sapphire Angel sends him to safety, and as she tries to make sense of his actions and her emotions, she hurries back to the warehouse, but the men have disappeared, and so has Xavier Wheldon. She makes her way back to her hotel room, becoming increasingly annoyed with both Conner and herself. Once inside her room, she changes and returns her costume to its hiding place inside her bag’s secret compartment before settling into bed.
This is the second story, so if you want to start from the very beginning, you can jump over to book 1, and begin with the Prologue of Sapphire Angel, Superheroine. Or to start at the beginning of book 2 (this story), click over to the Prologue of Power Play.
Thanks for reading!
Rows of tables and chairs filled the large banquet hall, but half the seats were empty for the morning session. The conference sessions would have bored Beth under normal circumstances, and her late night adventure only made it worse. She sat alone, her mind jumping between thoughts of Conner, the StarPrime case, and Sapphire Angel.
She remembered their kiss and could almost feel Conner's lips on hers. She forced the memory aside, and her mind skipped between unanswered questions in the StarPrime investigation. Bud Tanner. The tower. The building in the woods. The suspended police officer. Those thoughts only brought frustration, so she shoved them aside, too. She found herself pondering her life as Sapphire Angel, and the nagging suspicion there was more to her origin than she knew.
The more her brain swirled from one topic to another, the more frustrated she became. All the uncertainty with Conner, the case, and her life as Sapphire Angel boiled up inside her, desperate for an outlet. Perhaps the truncated kiss with Conner had triggered it all, but she couldn't go on like this. Alone. She was desperate for a sounding board. For someone to share all the burdens she carried. But there was no one. She groaned and placed her forehead on the table.
As she opened her eyes and stared at the wood surface, realizing how ridiculous she must look, she pictured a face. Ethan. Perhaps being away from home had given Beth clarity, or perhaps her desperation was clouding her judgment. But now more than ever she needed him to know her secret. That's what best friends were for, weren't they? To ease a friend's burdens? She could no longer wrestle with all these dilemmas on her own, and she couldn't keep her secret from him any longer. She resolved to tell him everything when she returned home. With a sigh, Beth sat up and forced her eyes forward.
Ten minutes into the second presentation, Conner slid into the seat next to her. He flashed her a smile. Beth felt a quiver inside her as she looked down. So much for being angry with him. Damnit. She glanced up and smiled back.
A few minutes later, as the speaker droned on, Conner jotted something on a piece of paper in front of him. He folded it and slid it over to her. Beth picked it up and unfolded it.
It read, Lunch together today?
Beth stared at the note, viewing it almost as a test. Could she get herself back in control of the situation with Conner? She bit her lip, grabbed her pen, and scribbled a response. Actually, I was planning to head out to the pool. She slid it back to Conner, pleased with herself. As her hand slid across the table, he reached out and his hand briefly touched hers, before taking the paper. She tried her best to ignore the touch.
Conner's response only took a moment, as he slid the paper back to her. His fingers grazed her hand again as she took the paper. She looked down at the paper and saw his response. It's a date! I'll bring lunch.
Beth almost blurted out in protest, but instead stared straight ahead at the speaker on stage. A moment later her focus was drawn to someone halfway across the room, slipping into an empty seat. Nick Hunt. He looked over toward her, looked at Conner, and a scowl crossed his face before turning to a glare. Just another annoyance to add to the pile.
From a chair in the lobby, Raven Tristan watched the bank of doors leading into the banquet room. She still wore the uniform of the banquet staff, but perched her laptop computer on her lap to look busy. Inside the banquet room, Beth Harper and the other convention attendees were listening to several speakers drone on about boring topics. Tristan had watched Harper enter, carrying her shoulder bag. If Tristan had known how inseparable Harper and her bag would be, she would have broken into the girl's room the first night, when Harper had gone to the welcome reception without it.
Tristan had spent two hours in the lobby, not wanting to chance Harper slipping out of the session early. The petite girl had only left the banquet hall once, during a break for refreshments in the outside hall. After the break, the session had resumed and Tristan had stayed in the plush chair in the lobby, watching the doors. The end of the morning session was only a few minutes away, and the conference schedule was empty until dinner.
Tristan waited until the first attendees filed out of the room as the session ended. After a few minutes, Harper walked out. She wore a white blouse, a crisp pair of black pants, and matching sandals with low heels. Bennett was at her side again. The two exchanged a few words, including "see you in a few minutes," before Harper turned down the hall toward the elevator.
With a casual stretch and yawn, Tristan tucked her laptop in her bag, rose from her chair, and headed for the stairwell near the lobby. Once inside, she darted up the steps, two at a time, until she reached Harper's floor. She eased open the door to the stairwell and spotted the back of Harper's head as Harper approached the door to her room. The slender woman slid her key card into the lock, and entered and closed the door behind her.
Tristan made a direct line for an empty food cart in the hall, grabbing it and pushing it in front of her. She picked up a tray of half-eaten food from the floor outside one of the guest rooms, placing it on the cart. She marched past Harper's door and continued on past a few more doors, before turning around and retracing her steps. After four such circuits, when she was three doors past Harper's door, she heard Harper's door open behind her. Tristan bent down, picking up another tray of half-eaten food she had ignored on her earlier passes. She glanced to her left as she did so and saw Harper in the hallway, heading toward the elevator.
Jealousy boiled up inside Tristan at the site of the slender blond woman. Harper was wearing a blue bikini, with a translucent wrap draped around her. The wrap provided some cover, but did not hide the girl's petite and toned body. The girl's legs were long and thin, but not scrawny. Her arms and shoulders were lightly muscled, but retained a soft femininity. Harper had sunglasses pushed up on her blonde hair, wore flip-flops on her feet, and carried a bag over her shoulder. Then it struck Tristan. A beach bag. Not the shoulder bag.
Tristan's heart beat with excitement and anticipation. The girl was heading to the pool or to the beach. The shoulder bag had to be in Harper's room. And if she headed to the pool or beach, she wouldn't be returning soon. Tristan watched Harper turn, out of sight, into the elevator alcove. Tristan waited until she heard the elevator door open and close, before walking with a purpose toward Harper's door.
She approached the door, looking to her left and right to make sure she was alone in the hall. Not that it mattered. Tristan had already hacked into the resort's computer network to clone a key card for Harper's room. She inserted the key card into the slot on the lock, heard a click, and saw a green light on the lock illuminate. She pushed the handle down and entered the room, shutting the door behind her and pausing to get her bearings.
A small kitchenette was to her left with the room beyond it. The bed was on the far right wall. She took a step further into the room and saw the bathroom next to the kitchenette.
Harper's suitcase rested on a stand at the foot of the bed, with a pair of suede boots on the floor below it. A small table sat in the far left corner, with a soft leather briefcase on it. Tristan hurried to the briefcase and rooted through its contents, finding several manilla folders containing documents on the StarPrime purchase of Echo Energy. Tristan thumbed through the papers, saw nothing of interest, and returned the papers and folders to the briefcase.
She moved to the suitcase and scoured through it, careful not to disrupt the contents. Once again she found nothing unusual — brushes, a hair straightener, two bikinis, a few pairs of tights, and other accessories. Tristan sneered as she held up a pair of the tights. Many teenagers were bigger than this girl.
Frustration simmered in Tristan. There was still the bag, if she could find it, but she had hoped to find other helpful information, too. Tristan moved to the dresser and started opening drawers, rooting through Harper's clothes until she reached the bottom drawer. There it was, hidden under some shirts. Harper's bag.
The bag seemed to call out to her, as if it might answer all of her questions. Tristan grabbed it and rushed to the bed, setting it down and rummaging through it. It was a mess. Lipstick and other cosmetics were scattered on the inside, along with a wallet, another pair of tights, a notepad, a pack of tissues, another brush, a needle and thread, hair clips, hand lotion, sunglasses, and several pens. But there was nothing to explain Harper's clinging behavior regarding the bag. Perhaps the girl had taken the mystery item or items with her.
Her impatience growing, Tristan dumped the contents of the bag onto the bed. She figured the contents were so disorganized, Harper would never notice they had been disturbed. Tristan rooted through the pile to make sure she hadn't missed an important item, cursing softly when she still found nothing.
Tristan growled in frustration, her shoulders sagging. She took the bag and glanced inside it. And saw something. To anyone else it would be nothing, but to her it raised possibilities. A loose thread. At the bottom of the inside of the bag, near the edge, the end of a thread poked up. Tristan reached her hand in and stuck her face closer. The stitching looked uneven, and its location seemed odd, since it wouldn't provide any support for the bag.
Tristan gave a tug on the thread, and it started to pull it up from the bottom of the bag. Eager, she continued, gripping the thread between her thumb and index finger and giving light tugs. As she did so, the thread popped up little by little from the bottom of the bag, making a circle around the edge, until it was completely free. She tossed the thread onto the bed and stuck her index finger down into the bag, feeling around on the inside edge, at the very bottom.
She caught her breath when she found she could get her finger between the bottom base and the edge of the bag. Her heart thumped as she pulled and the base came free. It was a circular piece, covered in the same fabric as the rest of the bag, but with what appeared to be a solid center, perhaps made of cardboard. She removed it from the bag and set it on the bed.
Glancing into the bag, Tristan saw blue and white fabric shimmering back at her from the bottom of the bag. She reached in, grabbed the material in her fist, and pulled it out. It was soft and smooth. Lycra, perhaps? Or another type of spandex? Maybe even satin? She had never seen anything so luxurious. As she pulled it free from the bag, she held it up in front of her, between her two hands.
Tristan's knees buckled, and she nearly fell over with shock. It was unmistakable. Impossible, but unmistakable. She knew right away what she held in her hands. Sapphire Angel's costume. Somehow, the iconic costume of the famous superheroine hung in her hands, its soft fabric gleaming in the light.
Incomprehension flooded Tristan's mind as she dropped the costume onto the bed and stumbled backward. She reached behind her, finding the wall for support. Tristan took deep breaths, trying to process what she had found. She couldn't. It made no sense.
As if she were afraid something might jump out of the bag, Tristan crept back toward the bed. She was almost afraid to look at the costume again. Instead, she grabbed the bag and peered inside. She saw the thin hidden compartment in the bottom of the bag, now exposed. There was something else in the compartment.
She reached in and pulled out elbow-length white gloves. Tristan held them out in front of her and let out a soft whistle. They, too, shimmered in the light, and they, too, were soft and luxurious. She laid them out on the bed, next to the costume.
Tristan stepped back and looked at the ensemble, shaking her head in disbelief. Sapphire Angel's costume was displayed on the bed in front of her. Logic told her Beth Harper was Sapphire Angel. But her brain tried to push the possibility aside, as if an external force wouldn't let her believe it. Had Tristan finally unraveled the girl's secret? Or was there another explanation? A wave of dizziness came over Tristan, and she moved to the bed and sat.
Was Harper really Sapphire Angel? Why else would she have her costume? And if she was the superheroine, how had such a tiny girl come to be a powerful superheroine? How had she kept her identity secret? How long had she been a superheroine? What were her powers? What were her weaknesses? Who else knew her secret? Why the choice of costume? Questions flooded Tristan's thoughts.
Her mind leapt between doubt about Harper's secret, and anger at herself for questioning the evidence right in front of her. It was almost as if a strange force worked on her mind, forcing her to disbelieve the obvious.
Captivated, Tristan couldn't take her eyes off the superheroine's items spread about the bed. She focused, forcing the doubt from her mind, at least temporarily, as she reached out and touched the costume. She took in a sharp intake of breath. It wasn't just a piece of fabric now. It was the outfit of the powerful superheroine. Tristan was in awe. As much as she had grown to resent Harper during the investigation, she now considered her with a newfound respect. Sapphire Angel's exploits were the stuff of legend. In a short period of time, she had brought down many powerful criminals, becoming a superstar in the process.
But then the doubts crept back in. Maybe the petite girl wasn't Sapphire Angel after all, but obsessed with her. She might enjoy dressing up as the superheroine. Perhaps Tristan shouldn't respect Harper, but mock her.
Tristan swore at her weak mind and forced the doubts aside once again. Beth Harper was Sapphire Angel. It was the only explanation. Having the costume spread out on the bed was like having the superheroine's secrets spread out in front of her, too. Tristan felt like it somehow gave her power over the costumed heroine. Was she the first to discover Beth Harper was Sapphire Angel? Tristan had more work to do, but this was a breakthrough of epic proportions. If it was true.
All she had learned of Harper's life swirled in Tristan's mind. The closet in her apartment probably tied into all of this somehow. Perhaps it was where Harper kept more of the items necessary for her work as Sapphire Angel. Or where she kept more items related to a crazy fantasy. Tristan swore again. Why did doubts keep intruding into her mind? She had to get into that closet and lay bare even more of Harper's mysteries. No, not Harper's mysteries. Sapphire Angel's mysteries.
Tristan called up a picture of Sapphire Angel in her mind and compared it to the items spread out on the bed. She realized she was missing the heroine's boots and necklace. The necklace was small enough for it to be tucked away anywhere, but a smile came over Tristan's face and she moved to the suede boots at the foot of the bed. Tristan picked one up and inspected it. She pulled on the fabric, turning it this way and that, until she found what she was looking for. Hidden under the lip of the fabric, on the inside of the boot, was a zipper. Tristan unzipped it, spotting white leather underneath the suede. She had found the blonde bombshell's boots.
Tristan finished unzipping the boot until one of Sapphire Angel's white boots was revealed in its entirety. She carried it over to the bed, laying it down by the rest of the costume. It was a fit. Would finding the necklace and laying it out with the costume remove her doubts? She didn't have time to ransack the entire room.
Once again, questions flooded Tristan's mind. She knew she wouldn't be satisfied until she had learned all there was to know about Sapphire Angel. Some answers she could find through traditional research methods. The Internet was filled with stories and photos of the heroine, and there were magazine articles, TV news pieces, and newspaper stories discussing the girl's exploits. Tristan would get all of that information. She wouldn't be happy, though, until she found answers to everything.
And she would need overwhelming proof to satisfy Wheldon, since it defied logic that Beth Harper was Sapphire Angel. Even Tristan wasn't sure herself, and she had found the superheroine's costume. If she could prove it, though, Wheldon would be thrilled. The thought of his approval brought a smile to Tristan's face.
A moment later, though, the smile vanished. If Sapphire Angel was after him, it had to be big. Big enough to take down Wheldon, and all around him, if things went sideways. Tristan needed to continue to probe for his plans, even though he had been hiding his tracks. In her time on the StarPrime computer network, she had found enough to form a pit of angst in her stomach — references to a story to shake the nation.
In the end, the thrill of the hunt won out. She couldn't pass up a conquest as enticing as Sapphire Angel. Tristan spent the next several minutes taking photographs of the items before her, before returning them to the bag. She found a needle and thread in a nightstand drawer. The color of the thread matched the thread she had pulled out of the bag. She used it to refasten the cover of the hidden compartment, before placing the cover back on the boot, and returning the room to its original condition. When finished, she slipped out of the room. Harper would never know she had been there.
It was time for Raven Tristan to use another one of her unique skills to get definitive proof that Beth Harper was Sapphire Angel. There was only one way to do it, and it wouldn't be pleasant. For Sapphire Angel.
This is the second story, so if you want to start from the very beginning, you can jump over to book 1, and begin with the Prologue of Sapphire Angel, Superheroine. Or to start at the beginning of book 2 (this story), click over to the Prologue of Power Play.
Thanks for reading!
I appreciate any comments or email.
And it’s great she’s finally learning to start opening up and sharing her secret with someone. Even if it’s just with Ethan, it’s still a solid start.
Crud, she knows. She knows! SHE FREAKING KNOWS, GUYS! This is not a drill! Oh, if only we had some sort of memory wiper.....
Also, I wonder what she’s going to do to try and confirm her theory that Beth Harper = Sapphire Angel.