Honor Love: Saints Protection & Investigations
Page 26
“My plan was so good. Get some money, then I could easily fix the accounts and no one would be the wiser. I’d be on Marcia’s social level and planned on attending the same parties and family gatherings she attended.”
Angel’s mind focused on getting to the gun in her purse, but as she heard Cindy’s plan she realized the women was completely bonkers. Marcia was never about money. Marcia was about laughter, fun, old friends, good times…Cindy was never going to be able to buy her way into Marcia’s love. She watched as Cindy’s gun arm moved downward, growing tired. Keep her talking. “So what happened?”
“That stupid teacher, Theresa, went to Marcia and questioned her account. She noticed something. Marcia must have looked at it and she took it over from that idiot Roy.” Her eyes lifted back to Angel’s and she implored, “Don’t you see? I had to get rid of Theresa. A dead person’s account would just be closed out. I…I could have fixed it and no one would be the wiser.”
At that, Angel’s eyes grew wide. “You? You killed Theresa?”
Laughing, Cindy said, “Do you know how easy it was? It only took me one week to learn her routine. Come home from school, park in the garage and wait for her mechanic to come home to her. God, she was such a loser…and that greasemonkey she was with? And she got to be a close friend of Marcia and yet I wasn’t? How does that happen?” Swiping at the sweat on her forehead, she shook her head as though remembering every detail. “It was simple. Sneak into the garage, barely cut the brake line so that the fluid would seep out slowly.” Laughing, she added, “The snow and ice were a bonus. I hadn’t planned on that. The next day, I went in and took out the dummy company from her portfolio and no one was the wiser.”
“But Marcia? Betty?”
The smile slid from Cindy’s face. “I knew I had to do the same with Betty before Marcia got wise. I knew she had a heart condition from hearing Marcia talk about it a couple of years ago when Betty stayed in the hospital.” Giving a little shrug, she admitted, “It was easy to break in and add some drugs to her pills. They were sitting right in the medicine cabinet. I had to hurry, though, so I didn’t tamper with them all, just some. So I never knew when she might die.”
Angel’s knees buckled at the premeditated deaths of two of her friends. How does someone even think of these things? It’s crazy, but she made it work.” Gripping the counter with her knuckles to hold her up, she felt the adrenaline quivers begin to move over her body. Hold it together. Hold it together. Sliding one more half step, she was almost to her purse.
“But Marcia? Cindy, you said you loved her.”
At this, Cindy’s face fell, her chin quivering. “I did. I loved her so much. After Theresa died and I set things up for Betty to die, I thought I was good. We’d go to lunch. We’d gossip and laugh about the men in the office. But she kept digging into the accounts. She told me that when she found out what had happened, she would fire Roy and then she decided to take back your account as well. Because that was against company policy, I thought I’d be safe, but she really investigated.” Waving the gun around, she shouted, “All she cared about was you all…not me! I was nothing more than just a lunch buddy!”
“I’m sure that’s not true, Cindy,” Angel said, her hands behind her now, reaching her purse.
“I followed her the night she was supposed to meet up with you. I planned on dropping into the bar casually and then joining the two of you for drinks. I was going to befriend you also and…and…be one of the gang.”
“But I wasn’t there,” Angel prompted, her fingers feeling the cold metal in her purse.
“No. And just when I realized you weren’t coming and was going to make my move for Marcia and me to have an evening together, she picks up some guy at the bar. Jesus, he wore a wig, but Marcia’s eyes lit up the way they always did when she knew a fuck was coming.” Several more tears slid down her face. “I was right there…right in front of her, but she never looked at me like that.” Taking a breath, she lifted the gun a little higher as though remembering it was in her hand. “I followed them to that stupid motel. I stood outside the door, listening to the grunts and moans. I got sick. I actually got sick.”
“You killed Marcia?” Angel asked, Cindy’s twisted story not making any sense. Why would she kill someone she loved?
“I followed her out to her car. I got inside and surprised her. I held my gun on her and told her to drive. We went…I don’t know…somewhere. Down some road. I made her get out and I didn’t mean to kill her. I didn’t. I just wanted to make sure she understood how tired I was of watching her with men all the time. And you sisters.”
“But you couldn’t make her love you at the point of a gun, could you?”
Cindy shook her head slowly. “No. When she realized I’d killed Theresa, she lunged toward me. I fired.” She looked up, eyes now flowing with tears, her body ready to crumble and said, “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to. I killed the one person in the world that I loved.”
*
Cam, the best at breaking and entering, worked quietly on the front door. His large body squatted in an awkward position, trying to stay out of the line of sight in case Cindy came back into the shop from the kitchen. Bart, also skilled in getting into locked places, worked on the office window, facing the alley, but was more hesitant since the two women were in the kitchen, close to the office.
Cam, the first to be successful, slid the door open noiselessly. Mitch, as FBI, was in charge of the investigation, but nodded to the Saints as Monty slipped inside the shop, followed by Mitch, Marc, and Jack. The others at the back alley were alerted that those men were now inside.
Hearing Cindy confess to killing Marcia, Mitch crept around the empty display counter, creeping forward inch by inch. Monty, needing a better visual, moved stealthily toward the back wall of the shop in the dark, allowing him to see through the door leading to the kitchen. Jack and Marc spread out in the room. Using radio signals through their earpieces, they each knew the position of the others.
Once Bart opened the window, he stepped back, allowing a much smaller FBI agent to crawl inside, but guarded the back door. The door from the office into the kitchen was closed, halting the FBI agent’s progress.
Monty, listening to Cindy, knew she was nearing the end of her story—unfortunately, the time when the suspect decides what needs to be done next. And that is often when they kill again. I can’t get a fucking shot from this angle. He slid forward another few feet.
“My other bakery,” Angel said. “You tried to kill me too.”
Cindy’s glazed eyes moved back to Angel, her despondency being replaced with renewed anger. “Yes! It was all for nothing. The money I took from you three. The risk of killing Theresa and then Betty died. And…oh God, my Marcia. Work is fucking killing me. I’m now under Scott, one of the biggest idiots in the industry.” She sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “He never would have figured anything out…never know there was a problem. At least, I could make the changes to your portfolio and then quit. Get another job and no one would be the wiser.”
Her eyes held Angel’s for a moment. “But you found the problem and sent an email to Scott. I had to get rid of you too.”
“Didn’t you think that the authorities were putting it all together? Both the fact that the victims were all connected with the sorority and CFG? How did you think you would get away with it?” Angel’s voice rose with each word till she was screaming in rage. “And now? You’re going to shoot me in my bakery?”
“It’ll be easily explained,” Cindy said. “You had all those tramps in here earlier. I shoot you and head down the street, slipping my gun into the pocket of one of them. The police will think one of those bums came back to get money or something and shot you.” Monty, listening from the other room as he moved into position, his sights on Cindy, cringed. Baby, keep calm. Speak softly…don’t piss the crazy off! He knew Cindy was close to losing it and he only had one good shot to take her down.
Just as he moved
into position, a broom in the back corner of the room fell over, landing with a loud Whack, startling everyone. Cindy jumped, whirled and pointed the gun through the door of the shop, as Mitch shouted, “Halt! FBI! Put your weapon down!”
Angel heard the shout and jerked her gun up, firing at Cindy’s arm just as Cindy fired toward the back wall of the dark shop. Screaming in pain, Cindy dropped her gun and fell to the floor, holding her bloody right arm.
Screaming for Monty, Angel ran past Cindy into the darkened shop. Seeing Monty stalking toward her from the back, she launched her body into his. He caught her in mid-air, clutching her tightly. One hand holding the back of her head to his shoulder and the other around her middle, pressed to his chest. Their hearts pounded, a disjointed staccato as both bodies shook in unison. Jack moved behind them, gently taking the gun from her hand. Monty shot him a grateful look as he continued to hold her.
Too many things happened at once for Angel to process, as Monty moved forward to set her on top of one of the tables. Pulling back, he peered into her eyes, seeing a mixture of emotions. The ringing in her ear intensified, making all other sounds muffled. She brought her hand up to her ear, a grimace on her face.
“Baby, can you hear me?”
She nodded, mumbling “Yeah. I put cotton in it this morning.” Taking deep breaths, she looked around, seeing the bakery filling with men. Agents with FBI emblazoned across the back of their jackets. The Saints. Rescue workers were already on site and working on Cindy. “She killed them all and I…I shot her,” Angel said, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins.
“Good thing too, baby. I didn’t have a clear shot of her at first and she could have easily hit me.”
At that, Angel’s gaze hit Monty’s, held for a second and then she surged forward. Latching onto his lips, she kissed him. A tangle of teeth, tongues, and lips, the kiss became their reason for breathing. For being.
Slowly pulling apart, he glanced down at her kiss swollen lips before gradually moving his gaze over her face, memorizing every inch. Holding her face in his palms, he leaned back in until his lips were a whisper away from hers. “I love you, Angel. The idea of losing you…fuck…”
Her eyes slid from his ravaged face, over his shoulder, to the back of the store, now bright with all of the lights. Bart, Cam, Jack, and Marc circled nearby. A bullet hole was in the middle of the mural, where Cindy’s missed shot landed. She smiled tentatively as her chin quivered.
Monty glanced to the wall where Angel was looking. “You saved me, baby.”
“No,” she said, pointing to the mural. “He did.”
The men looked over at the painting. Seeing the medieval man serving loafs of bread from the stone oven. Monty looked back at Angel, her face serene as she pulled out the charm necklace from underneath her shirt. Nodding her head to the back wall, she said, “Your namesake, Monty. I’ve worn him around my neck ever since my brother gave this to me and I had him painted on my bakery wall.”
He looked at her, his expression confused. “My…my namesake?”
Smiling, she said, “I knew you were the man for me the first time you told me your name. Montgomery Honor Lytton.” Glancing around at the other Saints before looking at the face on the mural, then deep into Monty’s eyes, “He’s St. Honoratus. The patron Saint of bakers.”
Chapter 31
Several Days Later
The Saints gathered around the table with Mitch on video-conference, finalizing the case records.
“With Angel’s witness statements and Cindy’s confession, the case will proceed to the grand jury. I want to thank you for all your help,” Mitch said. “I know you’ve reported to the Senator, as have I, and he’s grateful for us solving his daughter’s and the other women’s murders.”
Jack nodded and threw out, “Glad we have you to work with, but if you ever decide to call it quits, you know where we are. There’ll be a place for you at Saints any time you want.”
Mitch laughed, saying, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Ending the video, the Saints finished their reports as quickly as possible, wanting to head upstairs.
Chad’s phone buzzed and he excused himself, walking to the side of the room to take the call. “Oh, fuck,” he swore softly. “Yeah…yeah…I’ll leave as soon as I can. Funeral is the day after tomorrow? Got it. I’m sorry, honey.”
Chad disconnected and turned, seeing the concerned faces of the other Saints. “Jack, I’m gonna need some time off.”
“You know that’s no problem,” Jack replied. “Family?”
“No…well, yes and no. Not my real family, but that call informed me that my former ATF partner was just killed on the job, trying to detonate a bomb.”
Collective fucks and so sorrys, were sounded around the room. Chad scrubbed his hand over his face. “That was his wife who called. Jesus, this is going to be agony.”
Marc stood and walked over to place his hand on Chad’s shoulder. “You need company, bro?”
Smiling, Chad shook his head. “No, no. I’ll be fine. But I want to stay for a couple of days to be with his family and wife. I was real close to them…at one time.”
With hugs and handshakes, Chad left the conference room. The others left their reports on the table as Jack said, “Let’s go upstairs and unwind. Nothing here that can’t be done later.”
The Saints smiled at Jack, each knowing their tough boss knew when to work…and when to take care of each other. They made their way upstairs where the women were waiting.
Bethany was just saying, “It’s so hard to believe the lengths some people will go to in the name of love.” She smiled at Jack as he approached her, linking his fingers with hers.
“Oh, I think love has been the reason…or excuse…for many things,” Faith added. Bart walked around and pulled his fiancé against his front, kissing the top of her head.
Miriam stood up from the sofa, allowing Cam to sit, and then settled back in his lap, smiling as she nestled in closely, his large hand on her baby bump. He pretended to groan at her added weight, but his grin was a testament to his true feelings.
Jude and Sabrina were already sharing a chair as the others piled onto the sofas, chairs, and even cushions, in front of the fire.
Each remembered to speak clearly so Angel could hear what they were saying. Monty kept his mouth close to her left ear in case he needed to repeat what someone said.
“As angry as I was,” Angel said, “I’m mostly filled with the most unbelievable sense of sadness for Cindy and the futile way she was living her life. Yes, we sorority sisters were close, but we only got together about once a month. We all had other friends…other people in our lives. But Cindy couldn’t accept that.”
“Don’t you think that was because she was in love with Marcia and jealous of everyone else?” Bethany asked.
“I don’t know. The sexual relationship she wanted made her angry that Marcia was only into men. The obsessive relationship she required had no room for former friends.”
“What will happen to her?” Sabrina asked, looking over at Jack.
“She’ll be indicted and go to trial. She’ll also have a psychiatric evaluation beforehand.”
“Well, I need to bring out my thanks for everyone’s help,” Angel said, moving over to the kitchen counter where white boxes tied with pink, purple, and teal ribbon were placed. The men jumped up immediately, heading over to peer down into the boxes. Vanilla and chocolate cupcakes topped with huge swirls of vanilla bean frosting, Angel’s signature colors mixed into each one. The Saints dove into the moist treats, no one minding if the colorful frosting covered their lips as they devoured them all.
Angel looked over at Monty, shoving the last bite into his mouth. Laughing, she walked over, wrapping her arms around his middle. Moving in closer while standing on her tip-toes, she kissed-licked the extra frosting off of his lips. “Was it good?” she murmured.
His eyes flared in lust as he discreetly patted her ass. “It was great, but you�
��re the best cupcake of them all.”
Four Years Later
Angel waddled in from the kitchen, the platter of cupcakes in her arms. Monty looked over at his wife and hustled to take the tray from her. “Babe, you should have called out for me,” he gently chastised.
“I carry trays every day, you know,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. Her blonde hair still had the signature color stripes but was now trimmed to just below her shoulders.
He placed the colorful cupcakes onto the table, watching the children scream and clap in delight. Felicity moved among the group, assisting with the children. Her three were in attendance, as well as several of the Saints’ children. Monty’s father tried to get the children to stay still while he snapped pictures, while Angel’s father simply let his IPad video do all the work.
“Angel, I simply can’t get the top off the ice cream,” Lois said. “And like I was saying earlier, I don’t know why you insist on making so many muffins to give away. If you had a better eye for your profit margin—”
“Mom,” Monty interrupted, as Felicity and Angel shared a knowing grin. “Angel runs her business exactly the way she wants to.”
“I know,” Lois agreed, “I was just making a suggestion. Now where’s the birthday girl?”
Monty and Angel’s three-year-old daughter giggled as her two grandmothers fawned over her. Soon mouths were all covered in pink, purple, and teal icing, including most of the adults’. Angel moved toward the back to press her aching back against the back wall. At eight months pregnant, she was feeling the effects of being on her feet all day. Helen would once again take over when she gave birth, this time to a son.
Monty walked over to her, kissing the top of her head as he lowered his hands to massage her lower back. His eyes roved past her shoulder to the mural on the wall, the bullet hole still visible if someone knew where to look. Angel had refused to have it patched, insisting St. Honoratus had saved them both.