A Real Angel

by Cassie Miles

  A professional angel. A bodyguard. An avenger. Rafe was truly remarkable. Yet all she could think about when she looked into his intense blue eyes was how his mouth had felt when he'd kissed her, how strong he'd been when he'd pulled her into his embrace.

  "Jenna!" Alex bellowed. "I want three piglets in the foreground for this shot."

  She turned to Rafe. "Might as well make yourself useful. Do you mind carrying a pig?"

  "No problem."

  They met Kate in the animal room where she was counting piglets. Unlike Jenna, her mother had quickly located the alien pig. She pointed. "Who is he?"

  "A loaner from Hugh," Jenna said. "I'll explain later."

  On set, they rehearsed twice, trying to run the piglets from Jenna to Kate and keep them in the shot. Though pigs are fairly intelligent, these little creatures were confused by the number of technicians milling around, the lights and the equipment. One of them had discovered a fondness for nibbling the fronds of a bird-of-paradise flower.

  Dinah, standing and waiting in her skimpy body stocking, stamped her foot. "What's wrong with your stupid animals? I'm freezing to death."

  An attentive wardrobe person dashed toward her with a bathrobe.

  Dinah raged, "I have goose bumps!"

  Jenna turned to Rafe. Remembering his skill with Darius the tiger, she figured a couple of pigs would be a snap for him to control. Quietly, she asked, "Can you help me out here?"

  "Certainly."

  Rafe cast a thought toward the three little piglets. Stillness.

  As one, they turned toward him, gazing up with total reverence on their porcine faces.

  Come to me.

  The pigs waddled toward him and gathered at his feet. If he'd ever felt this assignment was beneath his level of skill as an avenger, this was the moment. He, who had matched wits with kings and princes, was performing a mind meld with piglets.

  "You're wonderful," Jenna said.

  And when she spoke, he felt that it was so. Her sweet approval validated his actions. A sense of Tightness swelled within him. There was nowhere else he wished to be.

  "I'll go across the set with the pigs," she said, "then you call them. Okay?"

  "Yes."

  She herded her little troop of professional pigs to the opposite side of the set. On cue, she unleashed them, and they trotted obediently to Rafe. Several times they repeated this act, while their human counterparts in the scene goofed their actions.

  Finally, Alex shouted, "Cut. That was perfect. One more scene for today. Actors only. Jenna, we're done with the animals for the day."

  With Rate's help, Jenna and her mother managed to round up the pigs and the several birds that had been on set. By four o'clock, they were all safely back in their cages.

  "We're lucky," Kate said. "At least, there's no dialogue in this sequence, and we don't have to worry about noise from the animals."

  "Very lucky," Jenna agreed. It was fulfilling to see her mother at work, facing practical concerns instead of sunk in the depths of an unshakable depression. "You've been great, Mom."

  "Haven't lost my touch, have I?" Kate smoothed the snowy feathers of a greater sulfur-crested cockatoo and cooed to him, "You were such a good boy."

  "Are you tired, Mom?"

  "A bit. But I'm looking forward to my dinner with Hugh. I'm afraid none of the clothes I brought with me will be fancy enough for an exclusive restaurant in Malibu, but I'll simply have to cope."

  She headed toward the small dressing room that they were now sharing. "I'll be busy in here for a good long while, Jenna. At my age, it takes a little bit longer to clean up."

  "Take all the time you need, Mom."

  "If it would help," Rafe offered, "I have a house nearby."

  "I couldn't impose," Kate said. Firmly, she added, "This is where I need to be. Working again."

  As she watched her mother close the door to the tiny dressing room, Jenna's eyes welled with happy tears. After three years of mourning, Kate had waded back into the mainstream of life. Thus far, she'd just gotten her toes wet. Her dinner date tonight might take her knee-deep.

  Jenna wiped at her eyelids. "She seems to be doing well."

  "Yes," Rafe said, "very well."

  "Do you think it's safe for her to go out with Hugh? Could he be involved in Eddy Benson's murder?"

  Slowly, Rafe nodded. "Everyone on this set is involved in some way. Each of them has a piece of the answer."

  "But Hugh isn't dangerous or anything," she said. "Is he?"

  "You were the one who was reminded of Count Dracula," he said.

  She'd been joking, of course, about the scary-looking entry gate to his estate and the warning from the gatekeeper about bats. But there was something about Hugh that made her nervous. Not that she could imagine the wealthy, powerful Hugh Montclair lurking around her dressing room at night to drug her. That wasn't his style.

  She looked up to see one of the Vincenzo boys enter the animal room with a piglet under his arm.

  "Hello, Jenna," he said.

  Jenna hesitated before putting the name with this face. All three brothers looked very much alike. Average height, black hair, swarthy complexion and strong features. Danny, who had been sent to help Jenna at work, was younger and had a short, military haircut. The gatekeeper/gardener seemed casual and easygoing. The neatly groomed man who stood before her was Nick Vincenzo. He was cooler than his brothers, almost chilly.

  "Hi, Nick," Jenna said. "I see you've brought my pig."

  "Good as new," he said.

  "Then Eddy was wrong in his diagnosis," Rafe said. "The pig wasn't sick, after all."

  "Not a bit."

  "Didn't you tell us last night that you were in charge of finding new homes for them?"

  "That's correct," Nick said. "Where should I put him?"

  Jenna led the way to the enclosure. "The next time you start getting rid of pigs, I might want a couple. Would you let me know?"

  "They aren't for sale." He placed Jenna's pig down on the straw. When he straightened, he fastidiously realigned his double-breasted suit jacket. "I give away the pigs as a tax write-off."

  "You handle a lot of Hugh's business," Rafe said. "Are you an accountant?"

  "I hire the accountants," Nick informed him. "Running Dr. Montclair's estate and correspondence is a full-time job."

  "I can imagine," Jenna said. She wanted more information about Montclair without seeming to pry. "As far as I know, Hugh produces movies, writes scholarly books, takes field trips to Africa and…what else?"

  "He's a busy man." Nick smiled. His white teeth were perfect, an orthodontist's dream. Smoothly, he changed the subject. "I'm pleased that your mother is going out with Dr. Montclair. He's happier than I've seen him in years."

  Quietly, Jenna confided, "My mother feels the same. My father's death, three years ago, was hard on her."

  "It's much the same with us," Nick said.

  "When did your father die?" Rafe asked.

  "He passed away eight months ago." Nick's dark eyes turned inward. "He had a long, painful sickness. Since we knew the end was coming, it wasn't so hard for my younger brothers and me to let go. We believed his death would reunite him with our beloved mother, and it was a mercy for his suffering to end."

  "But Hugh didn't feel that way," Rafe surmised.

  "He fought my father's illness until the very end. So many medicines and treatments and experts."

  "What did your father die of?"

  "Does it matter?" Nick said. "He's gone."

  His abrupt statement rang cold and hollow. Nick Vincenzo had cultivated a perfect appearance. No doubt, he was utterly efficient, but Jenna couldn't help wondering about the condition of his soul.

  "Something puzzles me," Rafe said. "Why would Hugh raise Vietnamese potbellied pigs? They're runts by nature. Surely, you don't use them for their meat."

  "I don't question Dr. Montclair's decisions." He turned to Jenna. "It would be good if the doctor and your mother found happiness
with each other. If you'll excuse me, I need to be on my way."

  But Rafe had another question. "When Eddy brought this pig for treatment, do you remember what happened?"

  "I don't recall. Probably they took saliva samples and blood samples." He scooped Hugh's pig from the pen. "It was nice to see you both."

  After he left, Jenna turned toward Rafe. There was something odd about Nick, but she couldn't quite place it. Before she could say anything, he placed a finger across his lips, indicating that she should be silent.

  "Why?" she demanded in a whisper.

  He nodded toward the doorway where a long shadow eased across the door frame.

  "Who's there?" Jenna asked.

  Taylor Wannamaker stepped through the door frame. "Jenna, I thought I might find you here."

  "And how long did you need to eavesdrop before you were sure you'd found me?"

  "Eavesdrop?" His long nose wrinkled in disdain. "As usual, you've overestimated your own importance. What could you possibly say that might be worth listening to?"

  "What do you want?" Jenna demanded.

  "According to Detective Metz, Eddy Benson was bitten by one of your animals."

  "What? You don't know that! How can you come in here and accuse my animals?"

  "It's a supposition, and a rather valid one since the only animals Eddy would have come in contact with were right here in this room. In any case, I'm ordering a quarantine."

  "You can't do that," Jenna sputtered. "We're in the middle of a shoot."

  "But I can," Taylor said. "It's within my authority. If I believe the animals are a danger, I can restrict their use."

  "Dangerous?" She erupted. "Look at those piglets! Do they look vicious to you?"

  "They might be carrying a disease," he said.

  "Of all the vindictive, ludicrous, obnoxious—"

  "Jenna," Rafe said gently. "May I offer a suggestion?"

  Not unless it had something to do with disemboweling Taylor Wannamaker. "What?"

  "Why don't we check for disease? Jenna can take blood samples from the animals and submit them to the coroner's office for testing."

  Taylor frowned. "Seems like a lot of work."

  "You're right," Rafe said. "It would require special effort on your part, Taylor. You'd have to negotiate with the highest authorities in the LAPD and the coroner's office."

  "I would, indeed."

  Jenna saw the transparent ruse that Rafe had offered. He was offering Taylor a chance to look important and to talk with important people. Though it went against her grain to be nice to Taylor in any way, she said, "I'd cooperate. What do you say, Taylor?"

  "I'd have to negotiate everything, wouldn't I?"

  "Absolutely," Rafe said. "You'd be responsible for enforcing the policies of the SPCA, while building a reputation as someone who's friendly to the motion picture industry."

  "That's not a bad reputation to have." His frown became a self-satisfied smirk. "All right, Jenna. I suggest you start taking blood samples immediately."

  "I'll do it tonight," she said.

  "Tomorrow morning, bright and early, I'll deal with it," he said. Turning on his heel, he strode toward the door. "Oh, and I'll tell Alex Hill myself. I'm sure he'll appreciate being able to continue filming without interruption."

  Jenna glared at his retreating form. She went to the door and slammed it behind him. "Nice job, Rafe. You made that pompous jerk think the blood samples were his own idea."

  "Thank you." Bending Taylor's overblown ego to do his bidding had been child's play, but Rafe felt a rush of pride. Jenna's opinion was absurdly important to him.

  "I have a request," she said.

  "Name it."

  "I want you to follow my mother and Hugh tonight. She's still fragile, and I don't want her to be hurt."

  "And you suspect Hugh might harm her?"

  "I don't know. But what if he does?" Her dark eyes pleaded, "I'm scared for her. Please, Rafe, watch over my mother."

  "Her guardian angel should be enough."

  "Please."

  "I'll do it on one condition. You promise to stay here, lock the door and keep your pistol handy."

  "Thank you."

  She reached toward him, wanting to confirm his words with a physical touch. Then, it seemed, she remembered that he was an angel, and she pulled her hand back. Her slight gesture caused a sharp twinge of regret within him. If he'd been mortal, she would be in his arms right now. He would be holding her, stroking her silken hair and feeling the softness of her breasts crushed against his chest. They would kiss. Excitement would race through him, arousing every nerve ending, wakening desires. But that was not to be. Not now. Not ever.

  Invisible, Rafe waited until Jenna had her evening's work under way. He watched as she checked the syringes and vials she'd obtained from a veterinary supply store. Handling the equipment efficiently, she had obviously done this type of procedure before.

  Humming softly, Jenna knelt on the floor and cradled one of the piglets in her arms. Her hands were gentle. Though she'd pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail, a golden strand escaped and fell across her cheek. Swift as an unseen breeze, he whisked the tendril back into place and stepped back.

  He admired her grace as if she were a work of art. The delicate crook of her arm pleased his esthetic sensibility. Her neck inclined, swanlike. Thick lashes obscured her dark, beautiful eyes.

  She hesitated for an instant, then looked up. Though she couldn't see him, there was recognition in her gaze. A subtle smile curved her lips.

  Rafe had never seen such loveliness.

  Jenna's guardian angel made his presence known, and they conversed in unspoken thought.

  "She's very pretty," Rafe said without speaking.

  "And sweet," the other agreed. "I'm fortunate."

  "Stay with her. Warn her of danger."

  "I'll do my best."

  Rafe floated aloft, taking to the skies. If he'd calculated the timing correctly, Hugh Montclair and Kate Denardo should already have arrived in Malibu.

  The restaurant, named Plata D'Or, offered a spectacular view of the Pacific sunset, and Hugh had obtained a table beside the floor-to-ceiling windows. Though Rafe had not been to this particular eatery, he recognized the accoutrements of fine dining. Tablecloths were white linen. The place settings featured heavy silver. The lighting mixed the glow of candles with track lights focused on original oil paintings.

  Still invisible, Rafe tuned his sense of smell to the savory aromas that wafted from the kitchen. The menu was sophisticated. Presentation was excellent. But Rafe was unconcerned with the setting. He'd often come in contact with the finer things in mortal life. Tonight, he was more interested in observing the courtship ritual. Hugh Montclair was a sophisticated man, attracted to Kate Denardo, and Rafe wanted to see how well he succeeded in pleasing her.

  Hugh was studying the wine list.

  "I'll just have coffee," Kate said. "But you go right ahead."

  "I prefer to share coffee with you," Hugh said gallantly. To the wine steward, he said, "Sumatran."

  Kate gazed through the window, remarked on the view, and Hugh took her comment as a cue to mention his travels. His anecdotes conveyed the image of an impressive life-style. Still, Kate's attention seemed to wander.

  If Rafe had been offering a critique of the date, he would have given Hugh a "ten" for class and a "four" for sensitivity. He fell another point in Rafe's estimation when he ordered for Kate, and she corrected him.

  "I can't have lobster. Don't you remember? I'm allergic to shellfish."

  "Veal?"

  "Oh, I don't eat veal on principle. I hate the way the calves are raised. Something with chicken would be fine for me."

  Rafe was about to dub this date "Portrait of a Man Striking Out." But Hugh must have had the same sense. He changed the topic. "Tell me about your children."

  Kate spoke in a pleasant and amusing fashion about her two boys, then she moved on to Jenna. "She needs to have a life of he
r own. To meet a man, fall in love, get married and have children. I'm afraid I've held her back."

  "Nonsense, Kate." He reached across the table and patted her hand. "You're a perfect mother."

  "Perfectly selfish," she said. "When I saw Jenna leaving the building with Rafe this morning, I was happy for her. And sad at the same time."

  "Why?" Hugh asked.

  Silently, Rafe echoed that thought.

  Her mother said, "I think Rafe might be the man she's been waiting for. I see how she looks at him. It's the same way I used to look at her father."

  Again, Hugh spoke the words that Rafe was thinking. "And why does this make you sad?"

  "To love so deeply…" Kate sighed. "In the end, it can only hurt her. No love can last forever."

  Though Rafael had no physical body, he felt as if Jenna's mother had plunged a dagger into his heart. His intention was not to hurt Jenna, not ever, not in the slightest way. He couldn't allow her to love him.

  Most urgently, he needed to conclude this investigation and leave her. Before it was too late.

  Jenna finished taking blood samples from all the animals except the tiger, and she'd already decided that Rafe should handle that task with his angelic powers. That way she wouldn't have to sedate Darius.

  When she stored the carefully labeled specimens in the refrigerator in her dressing room, she had a strange sense that she could hear someone shouting her name as if from the bottom of a well, warning her, telling her to hide.

  But she should have been alone on the soundstage.

  Next door, the monkeys shrieked. Jenna heard them running around their cages. Then, the birds began to squawk.

  A distinctly human voice said, "Settle down, you ridiculous creatures."

  The accent was unmistakable. "Alex?" she called.

  "Do come out here, Jenna. Your menagerie is behaving badly."

  She stepped through the doorway. Though she didn't think she had anything to fear from him, Jenna knew her handgun was nearby.

  He stood beside the llamas. His eyes were hard. "If you don't mind, I'd prefer chatting in another place. After a day of shouting at actors, I don't fancy hollering to be heard over a crew of cockatoos."

  "First, let me get them bedded down." She checked the water in each of the separate birdcages before placing a cover over the top. "What are you doing here?"