“Absolutely not, Noah. My decision had nothing to do with my partner. If anything, Jake did his best to talk me out of quitting.”
That was good to hear but until he talked with Mallory, he wouldn’t be satisfied.
Angela carefully watched Noah’s expression. Reading him was usually impossible but she had no trouble seeing what he was trying to do. He was looking for an out for her–a way to turn her failure around. Blaming himself or maybe even Jake instead of accepting that the mistake was all Angela’s. It was all on her.
Jake would have to give a full report of their ruined mission. She didn’t expect any special favors from him when he described her meltdown. Once Noah heard the detailed account, she was sure Noah would agree that she wasn’t operative material, no matter how much she wished it otherwise.
On their last day in London, Jake had been nothing but kind. She had half expected him to try to talk her out of her decision again but he hadn’t even mentioned LCR. Instead they’d played all day like two people who had nothing more on their minds but enjoying themselves. It had been exactly what she needed. Her only disappointment came at the end of the day when he’d kissed her forehead and told her what time to be ready to leave the next day. The train ride home had been equally uneventful. She’d caught a taxi from the train station and hadn’t seen him since.
“Samara will be happy that you made it back safely. I’d like for you to visit with her.”
Angela hid a grimace. Talking to Samara was something she usually welcomed. However, despite Noah’s assurance that she had nothing to be ashamed of, Angela knew she was a huge disappointment to everyone at LCR. Admitting that to herself was hard enough. Discussing it with another person, especially someone whose respect meant so much, was entirely different. Yet she understood Noah’s request.
She stood. “I’ll make an appointment with her. And I want to thank you for your understanding, Noah. I’ll do my best not to disappoint you ever again.”
“Stop it, Angela. You didn’t disappoint me this time. I just want to make sure you made the right decision for the right reasons.”
A lump developed in her throat for this man who’d been her champion from the moment she met him. He might be her boss, but she had always felt as close to him as she would a big brother. No matter what he said, she knew she had let him down. And maybe that was what hurt most of all.
“Did you sleep with Angela?”
Jake had known McCall would want to talk about the failed op, but he never expected it to take such a personal tone. He shot up from his chair and glared at his boss. “Whether I slept with Angela or not is none of your dammed business.”
McCall barely raised a brow at Jake’s explosion. “It is when it affects a mission.”
Telling McCall that Angela had decided to quit before they slept together wasn’t something he intended to do. What had happened between them was no one’s business but their own.
“Angela’s decision to quit was based solely upon her reaction to the skateboarder. I was as stunned by her decision as anyone. She’d given no indication that she was having second thoughts. She was professional at all times and I couldn’t have asked for a better partner.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’d like to see her go back into the field when she’s ready.”
Dropping back into his chair, Jake shook his head. “She seemed certain that she would never be ready.”
“Maybe.”
“Anything new on the case?”
“Zero. If he were keeping up with his timeline, he should have taken another woman by now and Clarissa Eaton’s body should have already been discovered. Then again, if he were acting in his normal way, Clarissa never would have been taken in the first place since she’s nothing like his usual victim.”
“Could be he’s added a new type to his preferences.”
“If that’s the case, then he’s going to be even more elusive. This woman is like thousands of women in the workforce.”
“Want me back on the op with someone else?”
McCall shook his head. “No. Riley, Eden, Shea and Sabrina will stay on the case until he’s caught. Be back here tomorrow morning at ten. There’s a case in the States I’m considering. I should know more by morning. I was going to send Dylan but I know he’d rather stay in Paris with Jamie. Their baby is due next month.”
That was another thing Jake liked about LCR. Their missions might be top secret and dangerous as hell but many of the operatives had families. Having someone to come home to after a grueling op could make all the difference in the mental health of an operative. That wasn’t something he’d given a lot of thought to. Having been on his own for several years, not having someone to come home to was the norm for him. When he’d been a cop, coming home to Teresa hadn’t been that great. She had worked as many or more hours than he had. He didn’t even let himself think what it would feel like to have someone waiting on him. It was never going to happen, so what was the point?
Could that be one of the reasons for Angela’s difficulty? Having no family to come back to made her more uncertain, less confident? No, that couldn’t be it. She had said more than once that LCR was her family, so why—
A light bulb clicked on in his mind. Hell, it was no wonder Angela had failed at her first op. Last Chance Rescue was her family. And she would hold herself up to the standard of every LCR operative. That was a damn tough thing to live up to. The first time she had experienced a scare and panicked, she had probably thought of women like Eden St. Claire or Shea Bishop, two seasoned operatives. They would have handled the situation differently now but how would they have reacted if it was their first time out?
Jake went to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
McCall’s dark eyes narrowed. “I can’t stop you from seeing Angela outside of work but you damn well better not break her heart.”
How the hell the man knew he was going to see Angela wasn’t something Jake even contemplated. The LCR leader sometimes read people like a damn psychic. However, his reasons for going to see Angela had nothing to do with romance and everything to do with her job.
He repeated what he’d told himself a million times before. “I’d die before I hurt Angela.”
“And I’d be glad to assist you in getting there if you did.”
Jake couldn’t help but grin. As death threats went, it was one of the mildest ones he’d ever received. Mild though it was, he knew McCall spoke the truth. And if he hurt Angela, Jake figured he deserved it.
She was being followed.
Angela picked up the pear from the trunk of her car that had fallen from her grocery bag. Pretending to exam the fruit for bruises, she peeked out of the corner of her eye. Yes, there he was. A man, maybe six feet tall, with shaggy, light brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses and a goatee. He was in a parking space a few yards away, looking under the hood of a white Volkswagen van. He seemed immersed in his tasks, however, as she turned her head away, she saw his gaze zero in on her again.
This was the third time she had seen him. The first time was two days ago when she’d been window-shopping on Rue Beaurepaire. She had spotted him standing at a doorway across the street from her. She had paid little attention. Years of men staring at her had accustomed her to their curious or glazed expressions. Having long legs and exotic features seemed to attract a certain kind of gawker and she’d had her share over the years. With so much on her mind, she had dismissed him as just another leerer. But she recalled a man of medium height and build, fair-skinned, and wispy, light brown hair.
Yesterday, she had run errands and had seen a man standing across the street from her dry cleaners. Since there was no bus stop or even a business close by, she had briefly wondered why he stood there. Then her cellphone had rang, distracting her. She’d grabbed it from her purse and when she’d looked up, he was gone.
She remembered that he had been dressed as a heavy-set tourist. A camera and binoculars hung from his neck, and he had a head full of thick, c
urly blond hair. Today he was more slender, slightly taller, had a receding hairline and wore glasses. Admittedly the three descriptions didn’t sound remotely similar. Make-up, wigs, facial hair, extra padding and shoe lifts were easily accessible items and could make a person look completely different.
Her operative training had included not only learning to disguise her appearance but also recognizing identity concealment in others. Too bad that training hadn’t kicked in earlier. Angela knew in her gut that she was looking at the same man from the two other occurrences. And this time, he had followed her home.
The Red Rose Killer? No, of course not. How could that be? She had received no roses. Besides, why would he have followed her from London? How could he have gotten her address? No one, not even Roddy, Club Drago’s manager, knew where she lived.
This didn’t make sense at all. She told herself she was being paranoid. That she was seeing a killer in some innocuous stranger. Her brain said it just wasn’t possible. Her intuition told her something else.
The same man, in three different disguises, within the course of three days? Who else could it be but the killer? Despite all the odds and her massive screw-up, she had actually managed to attract him. And he had come all the way to Paris for her. She had studied everything there was to know about this man. This behavior was completely out of the norm for him. Noah had told her a woman unlike his usual victim had been abducted. That could mean a lot of things but it could also mean that he was changing or expanding his preferences and routine.
Not for a second did she question whether she should play this out. She had no choice. She would do what she had been trained to do. Shoving aside all the doubts and fears she’d heaped on herself the last few days, she slipped a hand in her coat pocket, located her cellphone, and pressed Jake’s speed-dial number. Then, taking the wireless earbud she had attached to the phone, she acted as if she were pushing her hair behind her ear and clipped it on.
Jake answered on the first ring. “Hey, I’m glad you called. I’m headed your way. I need to talk—”
She kept her voice low and calm. “He’s here.”
“Where?” he asked sharply.
She appreciated Jake’s quick comprehension. “The parking lot of my apartment complex.”
“How close is he?”
“About thirty yards away.”
“Does he know you’ve seen him?”
“I don’t think so. He’s pretending to work on his van. This is the third time I’ve seen him. The first time, I was window-shopping and I thought he was just some creep leering at me. Then yesterday, at the dry cleaners, this man was staring at me from across the street. Again I dismissed him. Both times, he was disguised, but I’m sure it was the same man. And now, here he is again.”
Would Jake believe her or had he lost all confidence in her?
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m halfway across town. It’ll take me at least ten minutes to get to you. I’m texting McCall to see if he can get someone to you sooner.”
Even as he said the words, Angela knew there wouldn’t be enough time. If she continued to loiter in the garage, he would become suspicious and possibly leave. She couldn’t risk that happening. She was going to have to do this on her own.
“I can do this, Jake.”
“You have your weapon?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Okay. Wait till he comes at you. Then hold your gun on him until I—”
“What? No, Jake, he still has a victim. We have to go with our original plan.”
“We sure as hell do not,” Jake snapped. “We’ll bring the bastard in and get him to talk.”
“And if he won’t, what then? If there’s a chance to rescue this woman, we need to take it.”
“He wouldn’t have brought her all the way to Paris. Think, Angela! He’s probably already dumped her body somewhere. The most important thing is to capture the bastard before he can kill anyone else.”
“If this was another LCR operative, would you say the same thing?”
The briefest of pauses gave her the answer.
“I’m going to let him take me. You can track me. He’s acting so against type, there’s a possibility he could have the woman with him.”
“Absolutely not. I can’t allow—”
“Look, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I need you to trust me, Jake. I can do this.”
“Angela, I said, no. That’s an order.”
“This might be our only chance.” When he didn’t answer, she added softly, firmly, “Jake, please…I can do this. I know I can.”
Instead of arguing, he said grimly, “Describe him.”
“A little over six feet tall, but he’s wearing lifts because yesterday he was a couple of inches shorter. He’s wearing a badly cut brown wig with a receding hairline, fake goatee, and wire-rimmed glasses. Yesterday he wore padding, had a bulbous nose and thick, curly hair; today he’s much thinner and has a beaky nose, which looks to be his own. And the first time I saw him, he was medium build and height with brown, thinning hair.”
Even though it sounded as though she were describing three different people, she was relieved when Jake’s only comment was “That’s probably how he’s stayed hidden for so long. Sounds like he’s damn good with disguises.”
“He’s in an older white Volkswagen van, maybe about five years old.”
“Can you see a license plate?”
“No, not from here.”
“Anything else stand out?”
“Looks like there’s a small dent on the left rear bumper.” She stretched her neck ever so slightly…it was awfully hard to look without appearing as if she were looking. “That’s all I can see.”
“Is there anyone else in the garage with you?”
“No. And I can’t stall any longer.”
“I don’t want—”
“Jake, please. I know I haven’t given you any reason to trust me, but I promise you, I can do this.”
Silence filled her ear for several taut seconds and then he said, “You have your trackers?”
Relieved, she answered, “My necklace and watch. My phone too but he’ll probably dispose of it.” And because, despite his obvious misgivings, he was going to approve her plan, she whispered, “Thank you.”
Another long tense silence and then his ragged sigh exploded in her ear. “Partners don’t thank each other until the op is over. Got it?”
Withdrawing the grocery bag from her car, Angela knew she had dawdled as long as she dared. She might be on her own but she would never be alone. At that thought a surge of warmth and comfort surrounded her. LCR was the best in the business and she trusted Jake with her life. Not for a moment would this be a solo mission.
Jake gripped the phone in his hand as he stared at the scene in front of him. Miles of stalled traffic and he was caught in the middle lane, in between two semi-trucks. No way in hell could he get to her in time.
“Dammit, now I’m stuck in a traffic jam.”
“Just track me as soon as you can. I’ll be fine. Really.”
Wanting to scream his frustrations, he forced himself to focus on making sure she knew her options. “Don’t let it go too far. If it’s between your survival and his, don’t hesitate. Take him down. Kill him if you have to. Understand?”
“Yes.”
He had thought watching Angela dance and strip in front of a roomful of salacious strangers was torturous. That was nothing compared to listening as a killer stalked her and being unable to do a damn thing about it.
McCall and three LCR operatives were headed to her apartment but they were even further away than Jake. No one would reach her in time. This man would act way before anyone could get to her. Would the bastard follow Angela up to her apartment and play out the same scenario as he had with the other victims? If so, what had he done with Clarissa Eaton? There was no damn way he would have brought her all the way to Paris. Would her body
be discovered soon since he was about to abduct a new victim?
When this was over, he’d kick his own ass for not considering that the killer had already targeted Angela. Had he been stalking her the entire time they were in London? How the hell had the man known her address in Paris? Could he have been on the train with them? Why had he not given any consideration that the bastard would come after her? Just because the maniac was acting against type meant nothing. Dammit, he should have stayed with Angela until the creep had been caught. If this went to shit, it was all on him.
Jake breathed out a ragged breath. Dissection of his piss-poor handling of the situation would have to wait for another day. The most important thing right now was making sure Angela stayed alive.
This was as far from their carefully controlled scenario as it could be. He had planned to be with her every step of the way. And despite his anger at her for disobeying him, he would back her up. When this was over, they’d damn well have a discussion about her following orders. For now, he had to trust that she could handle this. He had no other choice.
“Okay,” she said softly. “I’m headed up to my apartment. Stairs or elevator?”
“Stairs. I don’t want you on the elevator with him.”
“Okay.”
“Go silent. No talking to me after this.”
“K.” She paused a beat and then added, “See you soon.”
Hell, he hoped so. Horns blared as impatient drivers let their displeasure be heard. Jake’s total focus was on the sounds coming from his cellphone. Angela’s breathing, a door opened, then closed. Footsteps, light ones and then, though distant, he heard the distinct clop of heavier feet. Then the most ominous sound of all—a man’s voice.
Never had Jake felt more helpless than to listen as the woman he’d come to care about more than he’d ever thought possible was attacked by a serial killer.
Chapter Sixteen
As he followed the tall, beautiful Angela to her apartment, he smiled to himself. Everything was working perfectly now. How could he have doubted his Dark Angel?
CHANCES ARE (Last Chance Rescue) Page 14