Midnight Angel

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Midnight Angel Page 8

by Betst St Amant


  Madison flipped through the book of sketches in front of her. She had outlined some color schemes for the downstairs, and numbered them in the order of which she thought Carsten would like the best. She also planned to buy some things today in which to fix up her guest room. If she didn’t get a mirror on the wall, stat, she might not survive the rest of her stay.

  They parked in front of a supply store, and as they got out, Madison noticed several people shooting her curious looks. She glanced at Carsten. “Do I have syrup all over me or something?” She began brushing at the front of her designer dress trousers and fitted pink blouse.

  “You look fine.” Carsten assured her. “I think the locals aren’t accustomed to seeing such…finery…in their small town.”

  Madison paused and glanced down at her silver jewelry and high heels. “Oh.” She frowned and then looked at Carsten. She realized for the first time that he had worn wranglers and a work shirt every day since coming to the ranch.

  “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Fit in so easily, so quickly.”

  Carsten frowned, but it passed from his expression so quickly Madison wondered if she imagined it.

  “I’m adaptable. Sort of like a chameleon.” He flicked out his tongue, imitating a lizard, and Madison giggled.

  “Well, this”—she dropped her gaze to her outfit—“is a problem that is easily fixed. Come on.” She grabbed his arm and began pulling him down the sidewalk.

  “Whoa, there. Where are you taking me?”

  She winked. “To shop, of course. I noticed a Ladies Western Wear just down the street.”

  ~*~

  An hour later, Carsten sat waiting in a chair positioned outside the ladies’ dressing room, tapping his boot in time to the country tune playing over the speakers. Years of following in his father’s footsteps of detective work, and he hadn’t seen this shopping spree coming. His skills must be slipping.

  In the time they had been there, Madison had tried on what must have been the contents of at least half the store. The saleslady loved her—or more likely loved the money Madison was sure to spend—and kept bringing more outfits to her door.

  Carsten had given up on trying to get a word in, and had resigned himself to waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, she would have nothing left to try on, and then they could continue their original plan of shopping for supplies.

  The door to the dressing room swung open, and Carsten turned his attention to Madison. She stepped outside in a pair of dark denim jeans and a long sleeve western blouse.

  “What do you think?” She did a little spin in front of the three-way mirror.

  He grinned and repeated what he had said about every outfit before. “It looks nice.” And it did. With her blonde hair and fair complexion, she could be a model even if she wore a burlap sack.

  She planted her hands on her hips and huffed. “You said that already.”

  He eased his arms back behind his head in a casual pose. “I’m telling the truth each time.”

  Madison rolled her eyes and went back inside the dressing room.

  “You’re no help,” she hollered over the door. He saw her feet stomp below the door as she stepped out of the jeans. He averted his gaze. Those thoughts would quickly lead him nowhere.

  “How are we doing?” The saleslady cooed. She looked elated. No doubt, she was imagining her commission from the impending sale.

  “Fine.” Carsten and Madison replied at the same time. The saleslady shot Carsten a look.

  “I was talking to the missus.” She fixed him with a sharp gaze then headed back to the register.

  Carsten glanced at his watch, thought it was nearing lunchtime, and leaned back until his chair was resting on two legs. He rocked aimlessly; keeping the chair balanced as he tried to think of a place nearby where they could eat.

  The dressing room door opened again, and Madison stepped out in a black dress. He took one look and lost his balance, toppling onto his back as the chair tipped over underneath him.

  Carsten did a quick backwards roll and came easily to his feet, clearing his throat. He struck a quick, relaxed pose, hands in his pockets, as if nothing had happened.

  “That’s nice, too.” His conscious screamed at him. Liar!

  Madison looked gorgeous. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her pale skin appeared porcelain under the modest, but extremely flattering cut of the dress.

  She stepped hesitantly to the mirror. “Are you sure?” She turned to check out the back view.

  Carsten stopped his eyes from following with will power he didn’t know he possessed. “Oh, I’m sure.” His voice was husky, and Madison shot him a surprised look in the mirror.

  He dropped his gaze, and took the opportunity to straighten the chair.

  “I think I’m done.” Madison observed him from the corner of her eye. He still wouldn’t look at her. “And I think I’m getting this dress.”

  Carsten looked up. “You do, and I’ll be forced to take you out to dinner tomorrow night.”

  Madison gave him a sassy smile as she stepped back inside the dressing room. “There are worse fates.” She shut the door behind her.

  ~*~

  “I really like the blue.” Carsten pointed to the sample in Madison’s right hand.

  She shook the sample in her left. “But what about the accent color? Which shade of yellow?”

  “The top one.”

  “Sunset yellow? Are you crazy? It’s so gold!”

  “Fine. The bottom one, then.”

  “Corn silk? It might as well be white!”

  Carsten ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath.

  “Madison?”

  “Hmmm?” She was still preoccupied with holding samples up to her sketches.

  “Why do you ask my opinion if you argue with it every time?”

  She looked up, startled.

  “Am I doing that? I’m sorry.” She sighed and rolled her neck around on her shoulders. “I get tense when I’m doing a big project. I want everything to look perfect. Shan tells me all the time that I need to relax and let the design speak for itself.”

  Carsten gently began massaging her neck and shoulders. “I understand that. I just don’t like being constantly shot down. I’ve told you before, I really don’t care what you choose.”

  Madison made a moaning noise in the back of her throat, and Carsten assumed the massage was helping. He kept going.

  “If you ask my opinion, I’ll gladly give it, but if you’re not really willing to use the answer that I give, then save yourself the trouble and decide for yourself.”

  Madison opened her eyes. “I can do that.”

  She pulled a few more samples from the rack in front of her, and then turned suddenly to face Carsten. “I have an idea.”

  Carsten raised his eyebrows.

  “Why don’t you leave me to picking out the rest of this stuff, and go grab us a table next door at the café? I’ll be done soon, and you can sit and get some coffee while you wait on me. I know you’re probably sick of looking at all of this.”

  Carsten hesitated. He didn’t want to leave her alone for very long. He shot a glance over his shoulder. Surely a few minutes couldn’t hurt? But what if they were being followed, and a few minutes was all the culprit was waiting for? He frowned.

  “I’ll be fine,” Madison insisted. She began pushing him toward the door. “Go on.”

  Carsten gave in, but only half way. He stepped outside and waited until he saw Madison go back to the selection of paint supplies. Then he jogged to the café, requested a table be put on hold, and returned to the storefront. He watched her from outside the window as she continued her shopping.

  Madison looked completely carefree as she selected item after item for her shopping cart. She appeared unaware, or perhaps just undaunted, by her current circumstances. Carsten found that fact both comforting and cause for alarm. He wanted her to stay alert so she could help to protect herself.
But at the same time, he wanted her to be lighthearted and joyful. She didn’t need to know the truth, because nothing was going to hurt her. Not while she was on his watch.

  13

  When Madison arrived back at the ranch, she found an overnight express package sitting on her bed. Rita had probably delivered it to the room for her. She studied the label and realized that Shan had sent the items from the office.

  Madison eagerly tore into the packaging, pulling out packs of colored pencils, a new sketchpad, several design magazines, and her favorite fabric swatches. She picked up the color wheel and spun it on her finger, feeling her creative muse return. She couldn’t wait to start bringing the paper sketches to life inside the house.

  Madison glanced into the box and felt around in the tissue paper, checking to see if she had missed anything. Her hand brushed against something soft, and she pulled it out of the box. It was her new stuffed angel with a note pinned to the front.

  She read the note and laughed.

  Madison—I thought you might need a friend while you were away from home. I wasn’t sure which was your favorite, so I chose the newest one. Hope I made the right choice! Have fun and be careful—Love Shan

  P.S. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

  Madison smiled. Only Shan.

  She smoothed back the angel’s fluffy wings. Once again, she was reminded of her favorite place, her favorite moment. She studied the face of the doll. It was funny how something so commonplace for most people could completely transport her to another time.

  She hugged the angel against her body and then nestled it against the pillows on the bed in a place of honor. Looking around the small room, she decided this was as good a time as any to get started on decorating.

  “Might as well spruce up my own room first.” Madison caught herself talking out loud and shook her head in amusement. She had definitely been on the ranch too long. But her absence from the city didn’t necessarily feel like a negative thing. What would it be like to return? Would she fit right back in? Or would a country twang accent her words, like was beginning to tinge Carsten’s voice? Would she come to prefer her new straight legged jeans and boots to the pencil skirts and heels that filled her closet at home? Only time would tell.

  The next few hours were a blur of activity as Madison worked her magic on the bedroom. First, she changed the sheets; replacing them with ones she had bought earlier that afternoon. Decorative throw pillows were placed strategically on the bed, and then she hung curtains at the window, and nailed pictures on the walls.

  She plugged in the new lamp on top of the nightstand and smiled at the effect. Much improved. She cast a look around the transformed guest room.

  The blinding white accessories from before had been changed into a palette of color. The bed featured pastel polka dots in shades of green and purple, with yellow accent pillows. The curtains were sheer lavender and blew gently in the breeze from the open window. Framed flower boxes hung in an arrangement over the bed, creating a new focal point. The soft lighting changed the entire atmosphere of the room, making the small space appear cozy, rather than cramped.

  Madison turned at a knock on the door. Rita stepped inside, holding a dishtowel and smelling of fresh rolls. Flour was streaked across the front of the apron tied around her waist. Her face carried an expression of delight and surprise.

  “Well I never!” Rita’s eyes roamed around the guest room. “Will you just take a look at that!”

  “I hope it’s OK.” She looked to the older woman anxiously. Although Madison didn’t really know Rita, her opinion mattered.

  “It’s beautiful, child!” Rita walked inside the room and turned a slow circle. “I’ve never been the type that enjoys doing all this girlie hub-bug, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the results! You did a nice job.”

  Madison smoothed the wrinkles from the quilt. “Thank you, Rita.”

  “I can’t wait to see what you do with the rest of this house.”

  Madison grinned. “Me either. My ideas are still a bit…here and there. My final choices haven’t quite come together yet. But we made great progress shopping today.”

  With her foot, she tapped the box that had been delivered from New York. “And hopefully, this will give me new incentive. My partner sent me some of my things from the office.”

  “I wondered what was in that big ol’ box! Well, I’m sure you’ll do just fine, honey, whatever you decide. Anything done to this house will be an improvement.” Rita waved the dishtowel dramatically.

  The housekeeper turned to leave, then paused and caught Madison’s eye. “I bet our favorite German will be very impressed.” She winked and left the room.

  Madison sat on the edge of the bed, feeling a blush creep up her neck. Were her feelings for Carsten so obvious that even Rita noticed? Madison’s gaze wandered to the stuffed angel, and she once again remembered the feel of Carsten’s lips upon hers. A delightful shiver skittered through her.

  The shrill ring of her cellphone interrupted her thoughts. Madison plucked the phone from her purse and glanced at the caller I.D. It was Shan.

  “Hey girlfriend, what’s up?”

  “Madison…it happened again.”

  Madison’s carefree attitude disappeared and she sat bolt upright at the sound of fear in Shan’s voice. “What do you mean?”

  “They ransacked the office.”

  Madison closed her eyes briefly. “Are you OK?”

  “Yes…no…I don’t know. I’m freaked out.” Shan’s voice shook.

  Madison leaned forward on the bed. “It’s going to be fine.” Maybe. She didn’t really believe her own words. “Did they take anything?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s hard to tell. I can’t really think straight.”

  “Are you safe?”

  “Yes. The police just left. I’m on my way back home.”

  Madison sighed in relief. “What happened?” Her gaze automatically darted to the window, but she forced away the paranoia. She was thousands of miles from New York. She was safe.

  But was Shan? And what about their hard work in the office? Insurance would have to be filed…what a nightmare.

  “I closed up the office at 6:00, same as usual. I got home and fixed dinner, then realized that I had left my portfolio in your office. I really needed it to prepare for meeting with the Andersons tomorrow, so I went back to get it. I think it was around 9:30. ”

  Madison glanced at her watch. It read 8:45 p.m. Shan was two hours ahead with the time difference.

  “Whoever did it was good, Madison. The front door didn’t show any signs of being forced open, but it wasn’t locked. I thought maybe I had forgotten to lock it on my way out. Once I saw your office, I realized that wasn’t true. It was a wreck, a complete wreck.”

  “Was anything destroyed?” Madison held her breath.

  Shan sighed deeply. “I don’t think so. Our supplies were left alone. The desk drawers were pulled out, and all the cabinet doors were hung open. But nothing seemed stolen or broken.”

  Relief flooded. Then confusion. “That’s odd. Why bother, then?” Madison’s brow knitted and her heart skipped a beat. The same thing had happened at her apartment. No reason, no motive…just disaster.

  Malice.

  “I don’t know, but the weird part was your angel collection. The dolls were scattered all over the office. Almost as if someone had picked up and discarded each one.”

  Madison’s eyes widened. “Are they broken?”

  “No, they’re fine. After the police left, I straightened them back up for you. I know how much you love those things. They seem to all be there, but it’s hard to tell. There’s so many of them.” Shan laughed, but it sounded forced.

  “Thank you for doing that.” Madison collapsed against the pillows in relief. “This is really getting strange.”

  “You’re telling me!” Shan’s usual fire began to return. “I’m about ready to get to this bottom of this! People just don’t have the
right to be breaking into other people’s places and messing up stuff for no reason.”

  “I’d almost rather have had them rob me,” Madison admitted. “At least then I would know and understand the motive. Who breaks into a place and leaves all the expensive stuff?” She shivered. Someone with something other than burglary on their minds. What did they want? What could she possibly have?

  “I don’t know, girl, but I sure hope the police figure it out. They didn’t seem to have much hope when they left here.”

  “They said the same thing when they were at my apartment. This criminal must not be leaving behind any clues.”

  “Smart guy.”

  Madison grimaced. “That just makes it scarier.”

  14

  As soon as Madison disconnected the call, she hurried from the guestroom and rushed down the stairs to the kitchen. “Carsten!”

  “I think he’s asleep, honey.” Rita shut the refrigerator door. “Do you need something?”

  “I need to talk with him. Right now! It’s urgent.” Pulse pounding, Madison jogged down the hall to Carsten’s room. His door was shut. She knocked twice and then entered without thinking.

  “Carsten!” She came to a sudden stop in the middle of the room.

  He jerked awake. “Madison? Are you all right?” He flung back the covers, and then seemed to realize too late that he was clad only in his boxer shorts. He tugged the sheets back into place.

  Madison ducked her head, avoiding his gaze. Yet somehow, her traitorous eyes kept darting back to the sight of him, shirtless under the quilt.

  “I—I need to talk.” She stammered over the words, feeling like a bigger idiot with each passing second. “I’m sorry I woke you up.” Her face burned.

  “Not a problem, Maddie.” Carsten rubbed his eyes with his fist, but made no move to get up. “I’ll be right there.”

  His accent was thicker when he was awakened, too. It did funny things to her insides. What would it be like to hear his voice that way each morning? She swayed on her feet and then suddenly realized she was still standing in the middle of his bedroom. “Oh! Sorry!” She quickly ducked back into the hall, pulling the door shut behind her. You idiot!

 

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