Angel After Dark

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Angel After Dark Page 25

by Kahlen Aymes


  Becca’s eyebrows raised and she pursed her lips, nodding to Angel behind Alex’s back. “Hot!” she mouthed.

  “Do you want something to eat?” Angel asked Alex.

  He rubbed her upper arms with his hands. “I just spoke to my brother. We’re meeting for lunch, so I’m good. I have to run, but I’ll call you later?”

  She smiled. “Dead phone. No charger, remember?”

  Alex laughed. “Oh, right. I’ll remedy that soon. Call me, so I’ll have your personal number.”

  “I like the other phone.” Angel stopped herself before she revealed too much. That private line between them was super sexy.

  Alex’s eyes narrowed but he smiled, understanding. Satisfaction filled his expression. “I do, too. But, just this once.” He touched her chin with his fingers and his thumb brushed Angel’s jaw. Becca bit her lip and looked away. The gesture seemed very intimate. “Walk me to the door?”

  He took her hand and she followed slightly behind him. “I’d like to see you tonight. Are you free?”

  Angel’s brow dropped, disappointment filling her. She’d made plans to meet Kenneth to discuss the next steps in the Swanson case. “Um, I have a work meeting. Actually, it’s just a casual thing, but I have to go.”

  “Will it take all evening?”

  “No, I’m meeting him at six for drinks. So I should be free by eight or so.” Inwardly cringing, she wondered how she’d get away from Kenneth that fast. He’d want to pick up where they left off, and she’d be left with no choice but to tell him she was seeing someone else. Ugh.

  “Him?” Alex’s brow raised and a soft smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

  “Uh huh. The district attorney, Kenneth Gant.”

  The name registered in Alex’s mind, Bancroft mentioned that he was the man Angel was seeing, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, jealousy burning in the pit of his gut. He looked down at her hands in his, his emerald eyes on fire. “I see. Let’s talk later, okay, baby?”

  “If it matters, I wish I didn’t have to go, but I do.” Something inside her wanted to make sure he knew this was business and nothing more.

  She waited for his response, and finally, his eyes met hers. He pulled her into his arms for a hug. Leaving Angel felt strange. He turned into her hair inhaling deeply, memorizing her scent. Even though Becca looked on, Alex’s mouth took hers in a passionate kiss, his tongue invading her mouth, teasing hers into play. He took his time, enjoying the feel of her mouth on his, her body in his arms, her fingers in the hair at his nape.

  When he drew away, he sucked in his breath and kissed her temple. “See ya.”

  On his way to the garage and his car, Alex shoved his hands into his pockets; his mind racing with questions about the man that Angel would be spending the evening with. For the first time in two weeks, he had the desire to read the red file. While he was confident that the passion between them was unparalleled, he wasn’t willing to leave it to fate. That’s how he won, by dissecting the competition and knowing their weaknesses.

  “Fuck me,” he muttered, running a hand through the beautiful, damp mess of hair. He knew he wouldn’t read the goddamn thing.

  When the elevator doors opened, the garage was filled with a car alarm honking repeatedly and he realized it was his Audi. He hurried forward, slowing as he approached. The windshield was shattered—like someone had taken a baseball bat to it—a huge round break, spreading out from the center, some of the glass littering the expensive leather interior and sleek black paint.

  “What the hell?”

  He shut the alarm off with his remote and moved closer, pulling a piece of paper from under the wiper and glancing over the rest of the vehicle. There didn’t appear to be any other damage, thankfully.

  Unfolding the paper, the words sank in.

  Keep away. If you know what’s good for you. If you know what’s good for HER.

  Alex burned; his heart tightening as anger flooded through him. He began to shake, his fist closing around the note.

  “Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed loudly, his voice echoing through the empty space.

  11

  Without a Net

  Alex sat across from Cole as he cracked open the first of his second dozen crab legs, shaking his head and watching in stunned amazement as his brother packed in huge quantities of food. The morning had been a blur; getting his car out of the garage before Angel saw the damage and to the body shop, then the rush to meet Cole as planned. He shouldn’t have bothered; Cole was late as usual.

  Alex used the time to think about the implications of the vandalism and strengthened his resolve to find out what the hell was going on. Thoughts raced; the group of young men the night before at the radio station, and Angel’s comments about her cases getting scary sometimes, had his neurons working overtime. The possibility of it being a coincidence seemed highly unlikely.

  “Cole, can you stop eating long enough to tell me what you found out?” Alex leaned on his elbow against the back of the booth, his food untouched, his thumb and index finger plucking at his eyebrow impatiently. His lips set into a thin line when Cole continued to concentrate on his plate. “Please?”

  Cole shrugged and licked two of his fingers and, at the same time, rolled his eyes.

  “Uh, yeah, but I still don’t get why this is important to you.” Alex’s stern expression urged him to continue. “The only dude I could track down that fits the profile is the owner of that big chain of dry cleaners. He’s pretty connected; knows a lot of politicians and has distant mob connections.”

  Alex’s face twisted in disbelief. What the fuck? Investing—maybe, real estate—sure, but dry cleaning? He could think of none. “How powerful can someone be when his business is cleaning clothes?”

  Cole shrugged again. “It’s all over the place. The business name is Pressed. They’ve been in operation for more than fifty years, Alex. I know you’ve seen ‘em… Bancroft believes it could be a front for laundering cash. His business grew in one huge spurt after his father died.”

  Alex vaguely remembered some TV commercials and images of a logo. Obnoxious orange and bright blue with that smarmy bastard’s mug attached to billboards and television advertisements. Angel’s conversation of the rape of a stepdaughter made him cringe. “Yes, that is suspicious. Did you get financials? Where did the money come from?”

  “It’s not clear yet. Some loans, venture capital maybe, but it’s probably dirty, Alex. Bancroft got pics of Swanson with James Standish, who, apparently, is married to Swanson’s younger sister, Carol.”

  Heat spread under Alex’s skin as the threats to Angel’s safety took on more urgency. The Standish family was rumored to be marginally involved with the Chicago crime circuit; drugs, dirty politics, and who knew what else. It was known, and yet, business continued as usual. Alex worked on an international level for Avery and remained clear of any businesses the mob was involved with. His mind raced with questions about how solid this bastard, Swanson, was with the mob.

  “What about his own family? Does he have kids?” He picked up his Blue Moon and took a long pull.

  “Yep. He’s been married twice and has a 30-year-old son from the first one. Thomas. He didn’t even finish high school and his old man’s set him up to take over. There is a stepdaughter from the second marriage. She’s the one accusing him of rape.”

  When Alex seemed lost in his thoughts, concentrating on the way his beer sloshed around in the bottle as he moved it in circles, Cole put down his fork. “Alex, what is this about?”

  Green eyes flashed and a muscle in Alex’s jaw twitched. “What do you know about his business?”

  Cole sighed. “I have the list of locations and whatever was available on public record.”

  “Is the company publicly traded?”

  “Nope, it’s still family-owned, but it’s incorporated.”

  “LLC?” Alex searched for a weakness. If the company was limited liability, the bastard’s personal finances would
be protected.

  “Nope.”

  Cole studied Alex as the corners of his lips lifted in a devilish smirk.

  Stupid bastard, Alex thought. What idiot would have a business that size tied to his personal assets? Alex almost laughed out loud. “Excellent. I want to know which locations are owned and which are leased. Find out what the purchased properties are worth and what he pays for rent on the others, and get a list of the employees and all of the businesses around the cleaners.”

  “I didn’t know Avery was in the dry cleaning business. Does Dad know about this?”

  A scowl settled on Alex’s face, but no answer was forthcoming.

  Cole shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “This shit is getting old, little brother. Tell me what the hell is going on. I have a right to know why I’m doing this.”

  “You’re having fun, aren’t you? Just do it.”

  Cole pushed his plate away, a stern look on his face. “I won’t do another goddamned thing until you explain.”

  Alex drew in a heavy sigh and his brow creased, uncertain how much of it he was willing to share. “Uh,” he hesitated, not sure what label he should assign to Angel. “I have a friend working on the rape case, and I think the asshole is pressuring her to doctor her testimony so he comes out clean.”

  Cole’s eyes widened, his expression incredulous. “You think? Surely a friend would tell you for sure?”

  “It’s a professional ethics thing. Won’t discuss it.”

  “What will fishing around in his business dealings accomplish? If he’s in with the mob, even lightly, then…”

  “Exactly. The bastard’s dangerous, and she doesn’t know what she’s dealing with.”

  Cole nodded knowingly, eyebrows lifting. “Ah ha, the clouds are clearing. Your friend is a woman. Didn’t take you long to replace Money-Grubbing Barbie. Are you really interested in this chick, or is this just to keep me busy?”

  Alex sat back in the booth, holding his beer casually. “Angel is hardly a chick, and yes, I’m interested. Very. And I’m worried.”

  “Wow.” A grin split his face at the obvious discomfort Alex was in. “She must be one hot tamale.”

  “Shut up, Cole. We’ve only known each other a couple of weeks—”

  Cole interrupted, a knowing look crossing his features. “And already you’re this tied-up in knots? I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Alex was flustered by his brother’s perception of something he hadn’t even taken the time to analyze. But, the thought made him flush. “I’m not in knots. I just don’t want to see her hurt.”

  Cole’s eyes narrowed and he nodded, disbelieving. “How is she involved? Professionally, you say?”

  “She’s the clinical psychologist assigned to assess Swanson’s mental capacity and pathological tendencies, I gather.” Even without confirmation from Angel, he knew he was on the right track. She’d shared enough for two and two to equal four.

  Cole whistled. “So she’s hot and smart. She is hot, right?”

  Alex took a long pull on his beer, and when he was finished, a beautiful smile flashed. “It’s me, Cole. Come on,” he teased. “Besides, when you clean up, you land some hot women. Although, I do wonder about your beer goggles. That redhead a couple of weeks ago? Gross.”

  “Ruby?”

  “Surprised you remember her name.”

  “Well, she gives great head,” he said simply, as if it was a well-known fact.

  Alex mocked him by acting like he was going to throw up. “I don’t need the raunchy details. She was just nasty.”

  “Tell me about this new one. How’s her bod?”

  He was staring at his beer and his lips lifted in a slight smirk on one side. “Ahhh-mazing. She’s beautiful and her voice… it slays me.”

  “Beautiful enough to risk getting involved with the mob?”

  Alex looked uneasy and ran a hand through his hair. “We’re not involved. We’re checking things out.”

  “Alex, you don’t even quirk an eyebrow unless something has your full attention. I know you.”

  “She is very intriguing. She minored in classical piano at Northwestern, too.”

  Alex’s hand went to his jaw and his features softened, which didn’t escape Cole’s notice. “She couldn’t play as well as you.”

  “I studied for years, Cole, so I don’t know. She was in a rock band in college, not the boring classics.”

  “Those boring classics kicked my ass. Good thing you and Allison took it seriously, otherwise Mom would’ve needed smelling salts. I’m just not into all that high-crotch, highbrow bullshit. I wish you’d all stop trying to force it on me.”

  “No one’s forcing you to be high-crotch.” Alex’s shoulders shook as he burst out laughing at his brother’s slang-term. “Dad just wants to see you take an interest in something.”

  “You mean Avery Corp.” Cole’s features twisted in disdain.

  “Well, he worked his ass off. It’s only natural he wants us to care about its longevity. It’s security for all of us.”

  “How did you do it? Give up Julliard for a desk job?”

  “You do what you have to do for those that depend on you. We employ hundreds of people with families to support. Dad should be commended for that. If you started looking at it like that instead of a ball and chain, you might be more accepting. Even proud to be part of it.”

  “Dad has so many cronies in place, the firm runs itself.”

  “Oh, yeah? Then why am I dragging my ass all over the world? Thinking like that will get us bankrupt. The board of directors and shareholders expect a certain ROI. Do you think it just happens?”

  “Is that what you have planned for this dude you have me chasing? Are you going to take over his company?”

  “Not exactly.” Alex’s eyes narrowed as the plan formulated. “Since his company’s privately held, we can’t do it simply with stock purchases. We’d have to buy him out, and it’s not my goal to line the bastard’s pockets. No…” He leaned forward, playing with the hair near his temple thoughtfully. “You did say it wasn’t an LLC?”

  “Yeah. I mean, no, it’s not.” He watched the wheels turn behind his brother’s eyes and, for the first time, was excited about something with purpose. This was going to be dangerous and exciting.

  “Swanson isn’t as smart as he thinks he is. Money equals power, so we bankrupt him. But legally.” Alex knew he should discuss it with his father, but this was personal, and he wanted to get his head around the money necessary to take the business down first. “I need the financials, Cole. Avery’s going into the dry cleaning business so you have no excuse not to wear a suit. Mom will be so proud,” he teased.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “One other thing.” Alex took the receipt the waiter left on the table and wrote down the address to Angel’s building on the back, sliding it toward Cole when he was done. “I want a list of anyone who works there, who lives there, and who owns it. Find out if anyone has connections to Swanson. I also need the real estate history. What is it worth? We need the trend of appreciation to get an idea of what a realistic offer would look like.”

  “Alex, now you’re buying apartment buildings?”

  “Just do it. I was there overnight, and someone bashed the windshield of the Audi and left this behind.” He dug the note out of his back pocket and threw it on the table for Cole to see.

  “Holy shit!”

  “The damage wasn’t horrible, and the note is amateurish.” He brushed it off. He’d take whatever steps were necessary to protect Angel.

  “No, not that. You were there overnight? Never thought that would happen, dude. Ever.”

  Alex cleared his throat as he stood to leave. “You have better things to do then worry about where I sleep. Get on it.” He threw some money on the table before grabbing the note and stalking out of the restaurant without another word.

  *****

  Angel looked at her watch. Kenneth was late, and she was impatient. She didn’t think
this noisy bar was the best place to have a discussion, but it was obvious Kenneth had other ideas. They’d spent a few fun evenings in similar venues that usually involved dinner and too much wine, and then they’d end up at his apartment near Roosevelt University. It wasn’t much, but it was all he needed. If money were his first priority, he wouldn’t be in the D.A.’s office. That was part of his charm. He was unpretentious and had good morals. Angel didn’t feel a love connection, but she liked and respected him. They had a lot in common. His feelings for her were another matter, and her stomach tightened in protest at the conversation she knew would follow any resistance to the evening turning physical.

  She pushed away any emotions that conjured up thoughts of midnight hair, green eyes, and long, beautiful fingers that already played her body like an instrument. She’d resisted the urge to call him all day. He’d asked her to, he said he wanted to see her, and damn it all, she wanted to see him, too. She pulled out her phone and thumbed through the contacts on the touch screen, finding the name and number she’d programmed in two hours earlier. She huffed in resignation, remembering the small battle she won with herself when she resisted the urge to assign a speed-dial. That would be too much like admitting they were more than fuck buddies.

  Angel smiled slightly at an attractive man clearly admiring her. She sat at the bar in dark skinny jeans, platform Louboutin’s, and a frilly lace button-down, in ivory, over a matching tank that was smattered with a few sequins. Her hair was messy perfection in the way only an hour in front of the mirror could achieve; her eyes full of smoky shadow and lips vibrant red. A shiver ran down her spine. She didn’t dress for Kenneth or the many men checking her out. She knew it. She’d known all afternoon she wasn’t strong enough to ignore Alex when he made it plain he wanted her.

  “Just fucking admit it, for crying out loud,” she muttered under her breath, pushing the button that would connect her to her motivation. He answered on the second ring.

 

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