by ERIN BEDFORD
Actually, that wasn’t such a bad idea. I could have my own private strip club.
Laughing at myself, I pulled up to my apartment and shimmied up the stairs to the beat of the latest tune still stuck in my head. I wandered into my apartment and scanned the area. No angels in sight, I grabbed my phone and dialed the only place open this time of night.
“Mr. Wong’s, what can I get for you?” the voice on the other line asked.
“Hey, Todd.” I know, Todd for a Chinese name, what are the odds? “It’s Jane.”
“Jane, my girl. How you doing?” Todd said, sounding more like a homeboy than any Asian descendant. His father, Mr. Wong, was probably having a cow behind him right now.
“Starving,” I admitted.
“I got you. You want your usual?” Todd asked. Yes, I order from there that often. If you were a single woman living on her own with weird shifts, you wouldn’t be cooking at this time of night either.
“Yeah, that’ll do me.” Briefly, I remembered my empty fridge. “Actually, can you make that a double order?”
“Got a hot date?” Todd asked, the disappointment in his voice not lost on me.
“No,” I chuckled.
“Want one?”
Laughing even harder, I rolled my eyes. “Not right now, but when I do, you’ll be the first I call.”
“Promise?”
I leaned against the counter in my kitchen and started to answer, but Lucifer caught my eye sitting at my breakfast table. “Would I ever lie to you?”
“For free wontons.”
“Okay, you got me. I would do a lot of things for free food.” I smiled broadly, earning me a bemused look from Lucifer.
“Good to know.” Todd laughed. “I’ll have your stuff over in two shakes. Make sure you wear something sexy.”
“I’m always sexy,” I countered. Lucifer stood from the table and approached me, my and Todd’s line of conversation suddenly making me nervous.
“That you are,” Todd agreed and then hung up.
Setting my phone down, I kept my eyes on Lucifer who stalked toward me. “I thought you went home for the night.”
“Not before I claim my payment.” Those words made my heart race in anticipation. He’d found a way to touch me? Suddenly the Chinese food was not the highlight of my night.
“How are you going to do that?” My voice came out breathless, and my nipples tightened as Lucifer brushed against my front, the tingling sensation shooting straight to my now soaking core.
“I have a theory,” Lucifer murmured. “Until this point, we haven’t really been trying to touch you, but if I actually put some effort in, perhaps that will change.”
I cocked a brow. “So, you’re just gonna wish really hard and hope the sex fairies make it come true?”
“Sex fairies?” Lucifer smirked. “No, I’m going to use my energy to focus on touching you.”
“So, you’re winging it,” I countered and then sighed. “I hate to tell you, but Gabriel already beat you to it.”
“What?” Lucifer raised his brow.
“Yep,” I made a pop with my mouth. “He accosted me in the parking garage right after our meeting. All he did was make my mouth numb.”
“Well,” Lucifer chuckled. “I’ll be damned. Never imagined he’d be so forward.”
“You’d know him better than me.” I shrugged sadly. “Now, if you don’t mind I have a date with the Chinese guy.”
“That Todd fellow,” Lucifer asked, his grin fading. “Are you having sex with this man?”
“Only when he brings me extra wontons,” I deadpanned but quickly corrected myself. “No, he brings me food. We flirt a bit, but that’s all. He’s not my type.”
Lucifer snuggled up closer to me, making my whole right-side buzz. “And what is your type?”
I looked him over, from his perfectly fitted suit to his hand tousled hair. He was the perfect package I would enjoy unwrapping and savoring every taste as I did. Too bad, that wasn’t an option.
A part of me wanted to say he was. He, Michael, and Gabriel actually. All three of the heavenly beings made my motor go, go, go like I’d popped a few Adderall. The only problem with them being their all show and no actual follow-through.
Lucifer watched me expectantly waiting for my answer. Before I could answer, there was a knock on my door. Saved by the Chinese.
8
I didn’t even remember going to bed that night, but my stomach was yelling at me in the morning. Why did I have to eat all the food I’d ordered?
“Fuck me,” I groaned, rolling over in bed.
“I’ll pass. How about a jelly donut instead?”
Mandy’s voice had me popping up faster than a teenage boy watching his first porn.
My eyes fell on the blonde sitting at my tiny kitchen table, a white box and two cups of coffee in front of her. I jumped from the bed, not caring that I was half naked. Apparently, I’d have enough foresight last night to take my pants off before collapsing.
I snatched up the coffee cup and a jelly-filled donut, scarfing down half of it before I sat down. Hey, I had a stomach ache, but I wasn’t dead. “You’re a lifesaver,” I said with a mouthful of pastry.
“I’m assuming that was a thank you.” Mandy laughed, taking a drink from her cup.
I grabbed another donut. “What’s the occasion?” I waved a hand at the box and the coffee as I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t think this counts as one of my dinners. This hardly even counts as breakfast.”
“It’s a bribe.”
“What now?”
Mandy leaned forward to grab something off the ground. She picked up a file and dropped it on the table in front of me. “The girl who went missing is Clarissa Granes. She’s twenty-two and her family is pretty worried.”
I glanced down at the file, flipping open the top to see the picture of a blonde woman with a pleasant girl-next-door kind of look to her. “How long has she been missing?”
“About three days.” Mandy sighed and pointed at the file. “We’ve tried everywhere. Her school. Her work. Her friends. No one seems to have any clue where she might have gone.”
“Maybe she went on siesta? Took a girl’s day. I hear the Bahamas are pretty nice this time of year.” My snark earned me a chastising look. I sighed and took another donut. I was going to need a mad workout to make up for these calories. As the cream-filled center touched my tongue, I groaned in pleasure. So worth it.
Mandy made a disgusted noise. “Should I leave you and your donut alone?”
I flipped her off while shoving the rest of it in my mouth. At least the guys weren’t here to see me stuff my face. God must really hate me because the instant I thought that, Michael appeared behind Mandy. Choking on my donut, I grabbed my coffee and took a large drink to force the rest of the pastry down. Eyes watering, I coughed out, “Um, what do you need me to do?”
Mandy glanced over her shoulder as if trying to see what I saw. I didn’t ask how she knew I saw someone, she’d been around me long enough to know. Still, no matter how hard she looked, the guys never presented themselves to her. It would make my life a hell of a lot easier if they would.
Frowning, Mandy gave up trying to see the angel and turned back to me. “Well, we thought we’d start by having you go back over what we’ve already done. See if you catch anything we missed.”
I was only half paying attention to Mandy, my eyes on Michael as he strolled around my apartment. When he noticed my attire, he raised a brow in question.
Uncrossing and then re-crossing my legs, I tried to make myself think serious thoughts. Not sexy thoughts. No, not the way Michael’s jeans fit his ass just so or how his shirt clung to his muscles in such a lickable way. Nope. Not at all.
“Jane?” Mandy said my name and I jerked my eyes back to her. She glanced around the room with furrowed brows, clearly frustrated at her inability to see. “I’m assuming there’s an angel here now?”
Forcing myself not to stare at Michael’s gorgeous mo
uth as it tipped up into a smile, I focused on my friend. “Yep. Michael.”
“Like the archangel?” Mandy’s brows raised.
“Uh ...” I chanced a look at Michael who nodded, bemusement twinkling in his eyes. “Sure. At least, that’s what he says. As far as we know, he could be the plumber.”
Michael crossed his arms over his massive chest and glowered at me in a way that only upper management could. Being the mature adult I was, I stuck my tongue out at him. Michael’s gaze darkened, and he was suddenly leaning over me, his arms caging me in at the table.
“The next time you show your tongue to me, it better be to remit your payment. Otherwise, I will remove it from your person.” The dangerous warning in his voice made me shrink into my chair, my tongue furled as far back into my mouth as possible.
“Jane,” Mandy said her voice full of alarm. “Is he threatening you? Where is he?” I saw her hand go to the gun on her waist, and I quickly reached out and grabbed her other hand.
“No, it’s fine. You can’t hurt him anyway.” I glared up at Michael and used my other hand to gesture for him to back up. Thankfully, he didn’t argue and moved back to give me some breathing room. “Besides, he was just being a jerk. I’ve had plenty experience handling those.”
Michael snorted, but I ignored him.
“If you say so.” Mandy settled back in her chair, but her hand didn’t leave her weapon.
“I do say so.” Dusting my hands off, I stood from my seat. With as much dignity as one could have wearing nothing but tiny panties and a shirt, I grabbed up the first pair of jeans I could find. I could feel Michael’s gaze burning a hole in my skin as I pulled them over my legs and hips. I almost didn’t change my shirt, not trusting he’d keep his hands to himself, but the stale beer from last night permeated my nose. The top had to go.
Thankfully, I’d left my bra on last night. Strange, since it was usually the first thing I took off when I got home. But with food and a sexy devil distracting me, I guess I could forgive my past self this once.
With a semi-clean shirt on, I grabbed my bag and was ready to go. “Where to, boss?” I smiled cheekily at Mandy.
My bestie had already put the files she’d given me away and was waiting by the door. Michael stood near her, and for a moment I thought she might be able to feel him. Her posture was tense, and her hand hadn’t left her gun, but then I realized she was just reacting to before.
“I thought we’d go see Clarissa’s parents first. See if you notice anything there. Get a premonition or whatnot.”
“Premonitions are Gabriel’s thing,” I corrected her as we made our way down to her car. “Where’s Detective O’Connor? I was so hoping to have the pleasure of working with him.”
“Haha,” Mandy rolled her eyes, not missing my sarcasm. “He took a personal day, and what do you mean premonitions are Gabriel’s thing? They each have a thing?”
“Gabriel has premonitions, Michael is super observant, and Lucifer is like a human lie detector.” I ticked them off on my fingers as I named them. “You know, I feel for Detective O’Connor. I’d take a personal day too if I had just signed the love of my life away. Maybe we should send him flowers. Flowers are a divorce thing, right?”
I really did have a moment of empathy for Detective O’Connor. I’d seen the result of divorce. Plenty of the neighbors in my parent’s area were divorced. Their kids being caught in the middle of it. I hoped that Detective O’Connor hadn’t had any.
“They were separated for a while before now,” Mandy informed me as she backed out of the parking lot. “So, it was long coming, but I heard she left him because he worked too much, which sadly comes with the territory.”
I punched her on the shoulder and grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry, Mandy. I won’t divorce you for neglecting me. Not until I get my dinners anyway.”
“Thanks for that,” she said dryly.
We rode in companionable silence the rest of the way until we pulled into a gated community. You know, one of those neighborhoods that are too good for the rest of the town, so they had to build a wall around them to keep the riff-raff out? Just seeing it made me want to build a pipe bomb and watch it burn.
“Freaking rich people,” I muttered to myself, glaring at all the cookie cutter houses that passed by.
Mandy snorted.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she shook her head. I stared at her until she finally broke down. I’m that good. “Fine. You’re a hypocrite.”
“What?” My voice went up an octave. “How am I a hypocrite?”
Mandy gestured around to the massive houses and perfect lawns. “You are hating on people who were virtually you growing up. You lived in a gated community just like this. Your dad has a housekeeper.”
“Yeah, my dad,” I reminded her. “Not me. I don’t make enough to afford a bidet. I don’t even have groceries in my fridge.”
“That’s because you’re lazy, not broke.” She shook a finger at me. “And you could have a good paying job if you actually used your degree and not do whatever it is you think you are doing.”
I hummed. She had a point. While being a bartender let me mess around and avoid being a grownup, it would be nice not to have to worry about money. Maybe consulting with the police was my first step? Gabriel had a promising idea when he said I could get my own shop. I did have a business degree. It could work.
Thoughts of the future swirled in my head, and I didn’t even notice we had approached the house until Mandy rang the doorbell. It amazed me what I could do on autopilot. If only I could do everything that way.
“Detective Stevenson,” said a man who looked to be in his fifties as he answered the door. He had bags under his eyes behind his thin-framed glasses and a strained look on his face. This had to be the father.
“Hello, Mr. Granes.” Mandy offered him a comforting smile. “I called you about coming by with one of our consultants to ask some more questions?”
Mr. Granes’s attention moved to me, and he nodded. “Of course, please come in. I’ll just get Janet.”
We followed him into the house, and I tried not to gawk. Mandy had been right that my father’s house was just as nice as some of the ones in the neighborhood, but Mr. Granes’s house made my father’s house look like a hobo’s hut with the tall ceilings and marble floors. It was all a bit cold and clinical for my comfort though.
“The pictures,” Michael’s voice brushed my ear. “Check them.”
He hadn’t ridden in the car with us, choosing to travel however it was angels did. Doing as he said, I searched the pictures on the wall. Like a lot of houses, my family’s included, there were the customary family portrait and a few singles around it. I stepped toward them, trying to figure out what exactly I was looking for.
They seemed happy to me. Well, maybe not happy, more like forcibly content. Mr. and Mrs. Granes stood on either side of their daughter Clarissa, their matching outfits of navy blue and white making them look like the perfect little family.
“I don’t know what I’m looking at.” I glanced at Michael, ignoring Mandy’s curious look.
“Yes, what are you looking at?” Detective O’Connor asked, and I spun around to find him standing in the open doorway.
“I thought you were taking a personal day?” Mandy asked, a bit more rigid now that her partner was there.
“I changed my mind.” Detective O’Connor’s tone said to leave it alone. I wanted to comment on it, but he didn’t give me the chance. “You were saying something about the picture?” He gestured toward the family portrait.
“Uh …” I glanced at Mandy, who shrugged. Suddenly I placed a hand on my forehead my eyes closed tight. “I’m getting something. Something to do with this picture isn’t right …” I peeked out of the corner of my eye at Michael.
“Here, his hands,” Michael said, coming close to pointing at the picture. My body warmed at the buzzing tingle of him against me, and I tried to focus on what he was tal
king about and not what he did to me by his nearness.
I closed my eyes again and raised my voice, “His hands! Look at his hands.”
Detective O’Connor shoved me out of the way so he could look. “His hands do look a bit wrong. Like they are tightened, almost like he’s ... holding her in place?”
I met Michael’s gaze for confirmation. Michael inclined his head. “That’s it! She’s not there by choice.” My brow furrowed as I turned to Mandy. “What kind of relationship did she have with her parents?”
Mandy’s eyes flickered confusion. “Great. Better than most. At least that’s what her parents said, and her friends confirmed it.”
“Then why is the dad hurting her in this picture?” I pointed a thumb at the one in question. “If they had such a loving relationship?”
“We aren’t perfect.” Mr. Granes, of course, took that moment to come back in with Mrs. Granes, or Janet, as he’d said. “Detective O’Connor, good to see you.” The detective nodded in return before Mr. Granes continued. “That day we had been fighting. Clarissa thought she was too old for family portraits and didn’t want to be there.” He placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder, giving her a reassuring look.
“I see.” I drew out, not sure what else to ask. I’d had my fair share of fights with my dad. When I was a teenager, I could drive even the nicest person to drink. My parents were saints for dealing with a kid like me. So, for most parents to have a disagreement with their kid was normal. Healthy even.
Michael didn’t seem to like Mr. Granes’ answer though. He passed by me and strolled through the foyer. He seemed to be taking in everything around him like he could see something we couldn’t.
“Ask to see her room,” Michael commanded, and I repeated the request in a less do-as-I-say tone.
Detective O’Connor made an irritated noise in his throat.
“Are you okay, detective?” I asked, holding up my purse. “Want a lozenge? I’m sure I have one in my bag somewhere.”
“No, I want you to stop wasting our time and do your job,” Detective O’Connor snapped, putting his hands on his hips, his hand a bit too close to his gun for my comfort.