“A newbie who has been with the bureau for less than a year. He’s eager, smart. I did a thorough background on him, even went further than the bureau. He’s clean.”
“Good. I don’t want you to be alone on this.”
Jack handed Gabe the keys to the car and a throwaway cell phone. “I have a throwaway, too. Just hit one and I’ll answer. I won’t see you again until this goes down. Let me know when you leave the room, again when you get where you’re going. Don’t do anything on your own, or you’ll never make it.”
“I’m not stupid, Jack.”
“Never said you were; just a warning. This bunch are as mean as rattlers and won’t hesitate to put you down.”
“Is this the jacket?”
“Yep. Kevlar. You should be good.”
They shook hands. “I’ll see you when this is over,” Gabe said. “And thanks for putting your ass on the line.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
They slapped each other on the shoulder, and Jack left.
Gabe made sure the door was locked, put a chair under the knob, removed his fake beard, and after his nightly exercises, took a long, hot shower.
When he went to bed his mind wandered from what was going down tomorrow or the next day and to Julie.
He’d much rather think of Julie.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next morning, Gabe put on his fake beard and headed out of the room to find something to eat. First, he checked his gun before he put it in his jacket pocket.
He made a quick call to Jack. “Going after food. Call you later.”
Before he opened the door to the Camry, he noticed the license plate was slightly smeared with mud. Thanks, Jack.
There was a pancake place not too far away so that was where he stopped to eat.
Though his stomach was in knots, he ate a good breakfast, as there was no telling when he’d get his next meal.
He punched in Jack’s number again. “I’m going to drive around the area we spoke about. Be there in thirty.”
When Gabe arrived, he passed the run down bar owned by a friend of Al Valine. The closed sign meant nothing as, several cars were out front, but he didn’t stop. Gabe knew from his cop days that some of Valine’s lackeys hung out there most of the day.
Gabe looked around. There were few cars about. None of which looked like a cop car. He punched Jack’s number again. “I’m here.”
“So am I. If you’re going to go through with this, stick to the plan.”
Gabe chuckled. He made a few right turns and passed the bar again, more slowly this time.
Still no movement.
Maybe this wasn’t going to work.
They might have to come up with another plan. Because he sure as hell wasn’t going back to Lobster Cove until this thing was settled.
One more swing by the bar and he got out of his car. He stood across the street and studied the place. If he remembered rightly, the inside was worse than out. Old wooden tables and chairs sat close together. The place didn’t look or smell as if it ever got a good cleaning. The last time he’d stuck his nose in there, he’d been undercover. Then, he’d wanted Valine’s mob to remember him. Now, he wanted them to confront him.
Any minute now someone would come out and challenge him. Nothing. “I’m going back to the motel,” he told Jack as he got back in his car. It had been a wasted effort. He’d try again later in the day.
“We’re a few cars behind you.”
Gabe was more than disappointed. Maybe he should have stayed in Lobster Cove—taken the risk and stayed with Julie.
A large black SUV came out of nowhere and slammed into the Camry.
“Shit!”
Gabe heard his cell phone peal over and over, but couldn’t answer. He was losing consciousness. Fast. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go down.
Taking the gun out of his pocket took every ounce of strength. Stay with me. He told himself over and over.
It seemed like an hour, but was only seconds before the passenger door swung open. “Compliments of Al. Oh, and Mad Jerry sends his regards.”
Gabe saw the gun, raised his to fire.
Both exploded at the same time. “I’m sorry, Julie,” he breathed into the sudden silence.
Jack’s roar of outrage followed him into oblivion.
****
Julie was a wreck. Her nerves were so shattered she could barely get through the day. On top of her constant worry about Gabe, Mia was driving her crazy. She didn’t understand why Gabe had left and wanted to know every few minutes when he was coming back.
This was the third day and not a word. He should have been back by now. Opening the freezer, she took out the last few trays of cupcakes. They’d be gone today. So far, when the customers had asked ‘Where is Gabe?’, she’d managed to ease their concern by telling them he had a family emergency and would be back soon. She quickly threw the mini-tarts together, stuck them in the oven, and set the timer.
Three days was too long. Something was wrong.
She tried to think of anything other than Gabe and the fact he might be in trouble. It was impossible.
After she’d iced the cupcakes and put them in the case, she took the tarts out of the oven, and started the coffee machines. After putting the cookies she’d taken out of the freezer earlier into the case, it was time to open.
She’d never appreciated Gabe and his baking abilities more. Even with the biggest part of the work already done, she was barely on time.
She unlocked the door and turned the closed sign around. How would she get through today? Or tomorrow?
Had Gabe decided to stay in Houston?
Tears threatened. She willed them away. And when the first customer came through the door, she put a smile on her face.
Could they tell her heart was breaking?
When they left, Lynn came in. “Have you heard from him?”
Julie had told Lynn everything the night after Gabe left. To say she was stunned was an understatement. “I should have guessed,” she’d said. “He talked like a cop.”
“But he didn’t look like one,” Julie had teased.
Right now, she’d give anything to see that crooked nose, those black eyes. Mostly she wanted to see his smile.
“Not a word,” Julie said as she poured them each a cup of coffee.
“How are you making it?”
“I love the guy, Lynn. What do you think?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I have no idea what Gabe had in mind. But I can think of a hundred ways for him to get hurt.”
“Gabe’s a seasoned cop. He won’t take unnecessary chances.”
“Let’s change the subject. This is my goddaughter’s last year in high school. Has she settled on a college?”
Lynn laughed. “You’d think Jake was planning the next presidential election the way he’s researched every college Jackie has mentioned. So far, he’s approved of Andover and Vassar.”
“Both very expensive. Don’t you have a say in this?”
“Of course I do, but Jake’s footing the bill. I listen. When they come to a decision, I’ll either agree or nix it.
“I’m worried, Lynn. Really worried. I should have heard from Gabe by now.”
“Give him time. We don’t know what he planned to do. Maybe it’s just taking longer than he intended.”
The bell announced another customer. Lynn stood. “Gotta run. Let me know if you hear from Gabe.”
“Count on it.”
But she didn’t hear a thing, and the day dragged into infinity. When Mia came in with her endless questions, Julie put the closed sign on the door, cleaned the shop, and left. The pastries were gone anyway, no point in seeing disappointed customers.
Her nerves were stretched to the limit. The bad feeling she’d had earlier had turned to a boulder in her gut.
When she got home, she settled Mia at the table to practice her writing, then told her mom she was going to her room for a while.
She changed into a pair of old sweats and sat down at the computer. It was past time to see if she could find out what was going on in Houston—see if any of it pertained to Gabe.
She brought up the Houston Chronicle’s website.
It didn’t take long to find the article on page three from two days ago. She held her breath as she read:
A shootout between a member of Valine’s mob and a Houston police officer ended in both their deaths. Detective Nate Holden died a hero when Sonny Garcia slammed into the detective’s vehicle, ran to the window of Detective Holden’s car, and shot point blank. But not before Detective Holden pulled the trigger and shot Garcia.
Police suspect it was a revenge killing on the part of the Valine mob, as the detective had gone undercover a year ago to get the necessary proof that put the mob boss behind bars for life.
Detective Holden will be given a posthumous medal of honor from HPD.
The last words were so blurry Julie could barely read them. She tried to pull herself out of the chair. She wanted to run away, do something. But she couldn’t move.
Her world crashed down around her. Just as it had once before—just as it had when she was told James had died in Afghanistan.
She couldn’t do this again.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, her brain refusing to accept the truth. Gabe couldn’t be dead. But she’d thought the same about James. And James never came home.
Neither would Gabe.
An hour later, she hadn’t moved. How can I live my life without him?
The same way you did when you lost James.
“I can’t do it,” she said to the empty room. “I don’t have the strength.” She reached for the phone. “Lynn,” her voice wasn’t her own. “I need you.”
“I’m there,” Lynn said, as Julie dropped the phone.
Ten minutes later, Lynn flew into Julie’s room. She was still sitting at the computer, still staring at the news article.
“What, honey? What’s happened?”
Julie pointed.
Lynn read.
“Oh, my God.” She grabbed her friend, pulled her to her feet, and held her.
That’s when Julie broke.
Deep heaving sobs shook her body as Lynn guided her to the bed and sat there with Julie in her arms.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Julie didn’t have the heart to tell Mia or her mother the sad news. Not yet. She had to get her emotions under control before she could face them with the horrible reality that would be her life. Again.
She lay in bed, watching the clock. She didn’t want to get up and go to the shop. She’d have to bake if she did. There was nothing left of Gabe’s pastries. Nothing left of Gabe.
How could she do it? She didn’t have the heart to go in and face the inevitable. She would have to close permanently. Finding a pastry chef who would be willing to live in Lobster Cove year round would be impossible, and she couldn’t do this alone. She’d thought about it though. She could bake the pastries, not with Gabe’s expertise of course, but she was a good cook. She could hire someone to take care of the customers.
During the night, she’d seriously considered it, even though she’d still have to do the ordering and bookwork. By morning she’d decided otherwise. She would shut down Julie’s for good and do something else. She couldn’t live with the memories of Gabe in the kitchen. His smile. The way he was so patient with Mia as he taught her to bake her cookies. See the customers’ faces as they lined up to look at his caricatures. Hear their laughter. See them happily wave to Gabe as they left.
Dragging herself out of bed, she forced herself to get up, shower, and get dressed.
Though her head was sluggish from lack of sleep and bouts of crying, she walked into Julie’s at four a.m. Usually, when she opened the door to her own place, a sense of achievement went in with her. Having a place to call her own gave her pleasure. She’d enjoyed every aspect of ownership. Hard work? Yes. Worth it? Yes.
So why are you giving up?
She looked around the empty space. Remembered when it was full of customers—full of the marvelous aroma of coffee and fresh baked sweets.
She didn’t have to quit. Gabe would call it cowardly. Damn him. He’d promised to come back. Instead he’d gotten himself killed. Her insides shook. I can do this. She turned on the smaller coffee machine, then went to the wall that held the sketches he’d drawn.
Her fingers traced one, then another, until she stopped at one of Mia’s and smiled. Over the weeks he’d been here, Gabe had caught her in a half-dozen poses. With cookie dough on her face and up to her elbows, her grin stretched wide across a mouth open with laughter; another holding a monkey cupcake in each hand, her face matching the cupcakes.
He’d been so gifted. Pastry chef. Cop. Artist. Plus he was a good man—good with Mia. Look what he did for Chad?
She sighed and turned away before she started crying again.
There would never be anyone like him. She’d never get over the loss of the man who’d walked into her life a stranger and walked out with her love.
She let out a strangled cry in the silent room.
Going to the kitchen, she robotically wrapped an apron around her waist.
Gabe would want her to keep her business open. In fact, if he knew she’d quit because of him, he’d be angry. She was angry, too. He should have stayed here. The mob would never have found him. According to his story, he’d hidden his tracks well, had changed his looks and most importantly, no one would suspect an undercover cop who’d been in prison for over a year would be whipping up pastries in a small shop on the edge of the Maine coastline.
She went to the pantry and pulled out the ingredients for her tarts, as well as what she’d need for cookies, and slammed them onto the workspace. At her insistence, Gabe had written out his recipes. She’d pick a couple and get to work. Then she’d make some oatmeal applesauce muffins. The customers would like them.
She could do this. With a little help, she’d bake those birthday cakes as well. Maybe she’d hire an intern.
The blueberry tarts and the first batch of cookies were cooling on the counter, the second batch in the oven. She had the muffins mixed and was pouring them into a pan when she heard the roar of a motorcycle.
Her head reared up. Who, besides Gabe, had one? Several that she knew of. But would they be out and about this early?
For a moment, she wondered if the sound of every motorcycle would bring back Gabe’s memory. She wiped a tear with the edge of her apron and continued her job.
She’d get over it.
Finished, she took out the last of the cookies, stuck the muffins in the oven and set the timer.
“You look busy this morning, pretty lady.”
“Gabe?” Had she wanted him here so badly she was hearing his voice? This was bad. Really bad.
She looked up to see him standing there with a smile she’d never seen before. .
Now she was seeing him? Was it Gabe’s ghost? Was he here to tell her she was doing the right thing? A message from beyond?
He walked toward her. She edged back against the counter, blinked her eyes. He’d be gone when she opened them. But he wasn’t. He was still there, looking at her now with questions in his dark eyes.
“What’s wrong, Julie?”
Was he real? Or was she dreaming? She reached out a hand and touched his face. “Gabe?” she whispered.
He took her hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “Yes, my love?”
“Am I dreaming?”
He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “I’m sorry I took so long. But things happened.”
“You’re dead. I read it in the Houston Chronicle. They said you were killed in a gun fight.” Her body shook with sobs she couldn’t control.
He jerked back. “You weren’t supposed to see that.” He looked into her tear-filled eyes. “Tell me you didn’t tell everyone? Not Mia or your mom?”
She shook her h
ead. “No one but Lynn. I was worried about you, so I looked up the news and saw the article.”
“Come. Sit.” He led her to a barstool, helped her sit down. A good thing since her legs were mush. “I’m so sorry. My plan didn’t go off as I hoped.” He told her what had happened, how he’d shot one of Valine’s henchmen at the same time the henchman’s gun went off.
“Luckily, the bullet grazed my Kevlar jacket and hit my arm. It could have been a lot worse. My FBI friend was close by and took over. It was a through and through, but I lost consciousness for a few minutes. He told me later how he’d made a big deal of how I was dead, pointed to the guy I shot, and shouted that he’d killed me. He asked over and over if anyone else saw what had happened. No one had. He was setting the death scene for Valine and his henchmen.
“An ambulance my friend had on standby was called in, and I was whisked away. I woke up in the hospital under an assumed name. They patched me up, and I’m almost as good as new. I was out of there in a few hours. My friend took me to his apartment where I spent a couple of days while he cleaned up the mess I left behind. I got here as soon as I could.”
Julie couldn’t control the tears running down her face. Gabe was standing in her kitchen. Alive. “You should have called.”
“I wanted to. But thought it better not to. Nate Holden was dead at the hands of the mob. I didn’t want anyone in Houston to think different.”
“Is that what you planned all along?”
His face turned grim. “I did. I just didn’t plan on it turning out quite the way it did.”
She kissed him on the mouth, pouring her relief, gratitude, and love into it. When she pulled away, she held his face in her hands. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I’m here, Julie. Now I can stay.”
“You’re not really a wandering man, are you?”
He laughed. The sound lifted Julie’s spirits a mile high. “No. I’m not.”
“That’s a relief.” She paused, studied him closely. “Would you rather be a cop? Go back to your old job?”
He took her in his arms again. “I became a cop to find my parents’ killer. I did that. I like certain aspects of law enforcement, not others. Frankly, I’m more comfortable in the kitchen cooking up mouth-watering pastries. Mom always told me I had the touch. I think she’d be prouder of me as a pastry chef than a cop.” He paused. “I know I’m a lot happier, especially when I look up and see you.”
Angel in Disguise Page 13