Leather and Lace (Tempered Steel Book 2)

by Adams, Maggie

  “I’m happy for you, Nick, really. I know you’ll enjoy it. As for me, I think part time is going to work just fine. We’ve just about finished up the last three houses in the subdivision. With the fire, I was afraid I was going to have to lay somebody off. This works for me,” Mac replied. “Anyone else wanna jump ship?” Mac teased.

  “Well, now that you mention it,” Chance said. “I stopped by Georgia’s to thank her for getting me out of that fire a few days ago. She twisted her ankle and has to stay off it for a few days. Missy Dee can’t handle it all by herself. I’d like to help her out.”

  Dixie giggled into her napkin. Mac smirked. Angel bit her lip, and Sam just laughed. Town gossip lines were running clear on how Chance’s attempts at seducing the pretty firefighter had led to her downfall, literally.

  “How’d she twist her ankle, Chance?” Nick asked.

  Chance’s ears turned red at the tips. “She fell.”

  “Really? I heard you were giving her the full court press, and she was running away from you.” Lucky grinned.

  “I hadn’t even talked to her yet. She slipped on a baseball in the yard. I carried her to the house,” Chance explained with a frown.

  “That’s one way to keep her close to you,” Lucky challenged. “Yessir, knock her down and break her leg. A bit barbaric, but if that’s what you old guys have to do…” He left the sentence hanging as Chance threw his napkin at him.

  “I’m five years older than you, smartass. That’s not what happened and you know it.”

  Nick cut in. “No? I heard you picked her up like a sack of flour and carried her off.”

  “I didn’t carry her off anywhere,” he growled.

  “You mean you just left her there with a broken ankle?” Dixie asked innocently.

  “No,” Chance sighed with exaggerated patience. “I picked her up and carried her into the house.”

  “Well then, you did carry her off. I rest my case,” Nick said imperiously.

  “You’re going to rest in peace if you don’t stop teasing me,” Chance growled. “And that goes for the rest of you, too.”

  “OOOOH, we’re so scared.” Lucky wiggled his fingers. “Whatcha going to do? Break our ankles or kiss us til we slap you?” He smirked, referring to the night of the fire when Georgia had rescued Chance.

  The telephone began ringing as everyone laughed at Lucky’s banter. Hank excused himself to answer it. He returned a few minutes later, grim faced. “That was Ben. The arson squad found something that might give us a clue to the person responsible for the fire. They want to see Mac at the police station as soon as possible.”

  The Coalsons, as one, scraped back their chairs and headed for the police station, the laughter forgotten.

  When the family walked into the local precinct a few minutes later, the sheriff met them at the door. He ushered them into a large conference room. Ben introduced the family to the two men standing near the conference table. “John Fultz and Joe Capizio are with the Alton Division of the Arson Squad. It was their job to filter through the remains of the fire for possible clues to the arsonist.”

  Sam searched their faces, but their expressions revealed nothing. Angel brushed her hand along his. He maneuvered her into a chair and stood behind her. He rested his hands on her shoulders and she reached up to touch him. He was so glad their relationship, at least, was on solid ground for now.

  “Thanks for coming so quickly. If you’ll take a seat, we’ll show you what we have,” Detective Fultz said as he flipped on the projector. While the rest of the Coalsons took the proffered chairs, he continued, “Several possible clues turned up in regard to the actual fire, including fingerprints which incriminate a man named Jeb Hawkins.” He clicked to a copy of the police report and Hawkin’s fingerprints from his arrest comparing them to prints lifted from the gas cans.

  “The gasoline cans and dirty rag scraps were similar to the description that Sam Coalson related to us.” He gestured to Sam as a picture of some charred material and what looked to gas cans came into view. “Together with Mr. Coalson’s testimony, I don’t believe we will have any trouble prosecuting Hawkins. Especially, since he’s telling everything he knows in order to reduce his sentence.”

  Detective Capizio continued. “However, there is still the accomplice to identify. We believe he is the mastermind behind the entire crime, including the vandalism your company has been experiencing. To that end, I think we may have something.” He flipped to the next picture, a piece of scorched paper came into view, barely an inch in diameter. “This is a piece of matchbook cover discovered at the fire scene. Our people have used a special technique to lift off the embossed printing on the cover. The computers magnified the results and this is what we came up with.”

  He clicked to the next picture. Five large numbers came into view, standing out amidst the blackened parchment.

  “It looks like a zip code,” Sam commented.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what it is, Mr. Coalson,” Detective Capizio stated. “And, of course, we have traced it to its origins in Las Vegas.”

  “Vegas?” Mac was dumbstruck. “We don’t know anyone there. I’ve never even been there. What’s the connection?”

  “That’s what we don’t know. It’s possible that this is the work of a hired professional from Vegas. That could put the true mastermind anywhere. When we follow through with this, we feel you will have your answers and we will have our man. Unfortunately, it could take months. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

  “However, given the evidence and Hawkins testimony, you shouldn’t have any problems collecting the insurance and getting your business cleaned up and running again,” Fultz commented.

  “So what do we do now?” Brandon asked.

  “Nothing. You sit tight and let us do our jobs,” Fultz said.

  All the brothers turned to Sam. He smiled because that was so not going to happen. “We’ve never been good at waiting. We’re kinda take charge guys.”

  Chapter Six

  The next afternoon, Angel was riding high after the dinner at the Coalsons. She sat at her computer, inputting the latest inventory for Merrywidows Fancy, her online adult novelty store. Sales were up with Halloween being right around the corner. Apparently, a lot of adult “treats” were being purchased. She smiled. Wonder what Sam’s going to say about this part of my career? He’ll probably pitch a fit!

  She closed down the computer, and prepared to head to the kitchen for a snack, when she heard a noise in the stockroom. Thinking Frankie had come in, she started toward the back of the house. “Hey, Frankie! Thought you had left. I was just going to make…..some…..tea,” she finished on a whisper as she felt the cold steel of a knife on her neck and fingers biting into her arm.

  “Where you going, pretty lady?” a coarse voice cracked out as the man’s hand slid along her arm and around her waist.

  Angel swallowed the bile that rose in her throat as the stench of the unwashed body assailed her. “Whaa, what do you want?” she murmured.

  “Whatever I can take, baby,” His hand crawled up to the underside of her breast. “And you’re going to give it all to me.” He licked the side of her face. She flinched.

  “Whatsa matter, baby? You don’t like my touch?” He cackled. Squeezing her breast roughly, he continued, “I guarantee when I’m finished with you, you’re going to beg me to put an end to your suffering. The boss said I can take whatever I wanted as long as I got the job done.”

  Angel’s eyes grew wide as she frantically tried to think of a way out of his arms, but the knife was pressed to her jugular. “Please, please, just tell me. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t kill me.”

  He pulled her hair roughly, forcing her to her knees. Stepping around to her front, she got her first glimpse of her assailant. Short, with a close shaved head, he was totally nondescript – except for his eyes. Red-rimmed, bleak, and desperate brown eyes focused on her face – a meth-head. His breathing accelerated as he pulled
her hair again, making her wince.

  “Boss said I get you when I’m done. I’m finished. You’re going to suck me, fuck me, then give me all the money in your safe. Or I’m going to kill you, one piece at a time. Now unzip my pants,” he growled, his eyes moving around the room in fear and excitement.

  Angel shivered as her hands touched the fly of his dirty jeans. She glanced between his legs, praying for something to focus on to get her through this horrifying ordeal. She had no idea what he was talking about. Why would someone want to hurt her?

  As she unbuttoned his top button, her eyes wandered everywhere but his crotch. She saw behind him, her pretty little nook, blooming mums on her grandmother’s lace doily gracing the table, her favorite coffee mug on the counter, and the small braided rug where Frankie had set the space heater in front of the sink to be wiped off and checked for winter. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to help her.

  As she pulled down his zipper, he grabbed her hair again, pulling her forward as his feet hit the rug, kicking the heater to the side. “I’m going to lean against this counter so I can relax and enjoy my hummer,” he smiled viciously.

  Angel knew she had to touch him. She looked around once more trying to find any way at all out of this. She knew he would kill her before he left. She just wished he would get it over with now. But no, he wanted the power that her submission gave him. With shaking hands, she reached up to pull down his pants. Her knee slid forward as the rug moved.

  She almost smiled.

  She might go down, but by God, she wasn’t going down without a fight. Grasping the sides of his pants, she pulled hard, knocking him off center and his feet slipped on the rug. She felt the knife slice across her cheek near her earlobe, but she paid no attention. She grabbed the end of the rug and yanked with all her strength, sending both of them tumbling to the ground.

  Her assailant landed with a thump and a crack. She assumed he had hit his head on the old space heater, but she wasn’t going to risk the time it took to look back. She was on her feet and running for the front door.

  She almost made it.

  As she reached for the doorknob, she was yanked by her hair. She screamed. “Bitch! You’ll pay for that!”

  Dragging her by her hair, he flung her to the left, into her office. She hit the desk with her pelvis, pain radiating across her midsection. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the knife poised to strike in his hand. She whirled in the other direction, the knife striking the desk. He grabbed her hair once again as he yanked on the knife.

  Sliding one hand behind her and pushing against him with the other, she made a grab for anything that might save her. Blood poured from the cut on her face, but she was ambivalent to her own pain. Grasping her tape dispenser, she swung it in an arc, connecting with the side of his head. He reeled back, but didn’t let go of her hair.

  But it was enough. With a lunge, she reached for her letter opener, twisting quickly and plunging it into his eye socket. With a scream of pain, he let her go, dropping the knife as both hands pulled on the opener now embedded in his face.

  Angel gave him another shove as she scrambled to the door. Flinging it open, she ran down the front steps and through the wrought iron gate. In her terror, she plowed right into Miss Maisy.

  “Angel? What on earth?” Maisy started to ask. Then she saw the blood on Angel’s face and with a quick flick of her wrist, she blew the police whistle she kept dangling from her wrist in case of emergencies.

  “You there! Stop! You are under arrest!” Miss Maisy shouted toward Angel’s front door.

  Oh God! He was coming for them! Angel pulled on Miss Maisy’s arm. She had to get them away. No telling what he might do to them. Angel gave a frantic tug on Miss Maisy. That’s when she noticed the Glock cocked and ready in the old woman’s hand. The shot went wide but did the trick. The figure disappeared back in the house.

  Angel sagged in relief. Miss Maisy might be a gossip, but she was damn fierce protector.

  As the homeowners and shopkeepers rallied around at the shrill sound of the whistle, then the shot, Angel glanced up and saw the man who attacked her running for the wooded bluffs behind her home.

  ****

  “What the blazes do you mean, you can’t find him!” Chance heard Miss Maisy’s screech as he opened the door to the police station. “How hard can it be? He had Angel’s letter opener in his eye for God’s sake! Blood was running down his face! Get the damn dogs out to look for him!” Miss Maisy was waving her large arms around the station, her print muumuu quivering with her not-so-suppressed anger, as she barely missed the young sergeant’s face. Chance spared a nod of sympathy to the poor guy dealing with her as he headed for the Sheriff’s office.

  “Damn eyesight isn’t what it once was, but I bet I could have nicked him good if I’d have gotten a little closer,” Miss Maisy continued to rant and rave as Chance opened the door. He turned white at the sight that greeted him. Angel’s face was covered in blood. A police officer was gently cleaning the wound.

  “Chance!” Angel jumped from her chair, startling the officer working on her, and launched herself into his arms.

  “Were you hit? Why isn’t she at the damn hospital?” he roared, tightening his arms around her as his eyes pinned Ben.

  “I’m fine. I wasn’t hit, just sliced a bit,” Angel hurried to reassure him. He turned even paler. Sliding his hand around her neck, he tilted her face to get a better look.

  “Sam’s gonna kill me,” he murmured as he checked out the bloody line running from early to help her mom.”

  “She wasn’t there?”

  Angel shook her head in the negative. Chance squeezed her tighter.

  The door burst open and Georgia Haines limped under her earlobe to her cheekbone. A horrible thought occurred. “Shit! Where’s Frankie?”

  “She’s fine. Her dad’s having a bad day with Alzheimer’s, so she left.”

  The door opened and Georgia limped through. Chance dropped his arms from Angel so fast she would have fallen if she hadn’t made a grab for Ben’s desk.

  “Angel, are you hurt?” Georgia inquired. “I heard about it on the police scanner.” She completely ignored Chance. He frowned at her rudeness until he noticed the blush covering her cheeks.

  “Oh, for the love of….” Ben mumbled as he came around to help Angel. “Georgia will you put this boy out of his misery and go out with him. And Chance, she knows you don’t care about Angel that way. It’s been Sam and Angel since Sam was old enough to know what to do with a woman.”

  It was Angel’s turn to gasp.

  “Sorry, Angel, but facts are facts. Speaking of the stubborn ass, have you contacted him?” he aimed his question at Chance.

  “I couldn’t reach him. That’s why I called Chance,” Angel answered.

  Ben reached for the phone.

  “Oh, please don’t. He’ll just find a way to keep me under lock and key,” Angel pleaded.

  Georgia glanced at Chance, who looked caught between a rock and a hard place. She couldn’t help but save him. “In this town, honey, he probably already knows.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be along soon. He was in Alton all day with those friends from his Navy days. They are helping with the investigation,” Chance volunteered. He looked at Georgia but she was checking Angel’s wound.

  “It’s not bad. I don’t think she needs the hospital.” She glanced at him then blushed.

  “Fine. Now that we’ve all determined where Sam is, whether Angel needs stitches, and that Chance doesn’t want Angel, he wants Georgia, can you all please leave so I can get some damn work done and find the bastard that did this?” Ben looked at each blushing face in turn.

  “Angel, if you think of anything he said or did, which could help, let me know.” Ben retreated behind his desk, dismissing them.

  Chance stepped up to hold the door open for the women and Georgia breezed through with Angel in tow. Angel stopped in the doorway, a frown on her face. “Did I tell you that he
said his boss wanted him to do something and that I was his, er, payment?” Angel shuddered as she flashed back to that moment.

  Ben sat up. “Did he say anything specific?”

  Angel gulped. “No. Just what he wanted me to do to him and then he was going to take the stuff in the safe.”

  “I’m going to need specifics, Angel.” Ben saw her pale. “It can wait until Sam gets back. Until then, I want someone with you at all times. I can’t spare someone here. You know we are limited. Can you stay with Frankie or Georgia until we catch this guy?”

  Georgia nodded, but Angel shook her head. “No! Absolutely not! And put them in danger? No way.”

  Chance rolled his eyes. “Now, Ben, do you really think Sam’s going to let her stay by herself with the bastard still at large? Especially since they are back together?”

  Ben turned a dull red. “Uh, sorry.” He shuffled some papers. “I was unaware of your reconciliation.”

  “Don’t know how you could have missed it, Ben. It was the talk of Kate’s Café this morning.” Chance winked at Georgia.

  “I was running late. I didn’t stop in for coffee this morning.” If anything, Ben got even redder.

  “Yep,” Chance smirked “That was also commented on. Folks wondered just what was keeping you in bed so late.”

  Angel snorted and covered her mouth with her hand as Ben stood up and leaned over is desk. “None of your damn business, Chance Coalson. Now get your ass out of my office before I haul you in for obstructing justice!”

  Chance grabbed Angel’s elbow and led her laughing, out of the police station.

  *****

  Angel came down the hall from the kitchen on bare feet when she heard the bells ring above the front door. Sam stood there surrounded by bags. “Where the hell’s the security guy and why’s the front door wide open? You’re closed.”

  Angel sighed. He was definitely going to be difficult. “The security guy’s name is Adam and he’s standing right behind you. The front door is open because I’m “Open”. Now you’re turn, what’s with the bags?”