Glancing at him from under her lashes, Angela surmised, “So now you think I’m unladylike, right?” She snorted, “All women, except for those anorexic models, eat. Some just pretend otherwise in front of men, especially men like you. Put a plate of brownies in front of them during a girls’ night, and they’ll fight over the last one just like the rest of us.”
“Now that’s a visual. A bunch of scantily clad women wrestling over a brownie. I wouldn’t mind seeing that myself,” Chase joked, as he placed several bills on the table. “Time to go, Angel. I think you’ve cleaned them out.”
“Hey!” she protested as she followed him from the small café. “Don’t be mean!” She pouted and he wrapped an arm around her.
“Just teasing, babe. At least now I know not to come between you and food.” She elbowed him, frowning when he failed to flinch.
Chapter 11
Chase led the way to the Richards’ townhouse and pressed the appropriate buzzer.
“Hello?” a harried, female voice responded.
“Mrs. Richards?” Chase leaned closer to the callbox.
“Yes?” the woman shouted over the crying in the background.
“We’re here to talk about your husband, Dr. Richards,” Chase announced, his voice radiating authority.
“Oh, thank goodness!” The woman breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll be right down.”
Exchanging a look of surprise, Angela and Chase waited at the front door, the picture of professionalism. Minutes later, a young blonde woman, with a toddler on her hip, and wearing a stained blouse, opened the door to the brownstone. “I’m Melody, Allen’s wife. Thank God the police finally sent someone over.”
Unsure why Melody Richards needed to speak with the police, Chase simply waited for her to continue rambling. She ushered them into a messy family room and handed the sobbing toddler a bottle before setting him in a playpen. “I’ve called several times to report Allen missing, but no one would help me.”
Richards is missing? Now, why doesn’t that surprise me? Chase sighed internally and prepared to direct the conversation where he needed it to go. “When did you last see your husband, Mrs. Richards?”
“Wednesday, before he left for work. He kissed Christian and me good-bye around seven-thirty that morning. Later that evening, he called and said Abigail – that’s his mother – was sick and needed him so he wouldn’t be home. When he didn’t get in touch by noon on Thursday, I called his cell. He didn’t answer so I contacted Abigail. She said she was fine and had never even called Allen. He never showed up at her house either.” Melody’s voice rose continuously throughout her story and she finished with a wail. “Allen’s been kidnapped!”
“Did he say anything else the night he called you?” Chase prodded, even though he doubted the emotional woman had anything else to share.
“No!” she sobbed, picking up her son who had started whimpering along with her. “Someone called, pretending to be his mother and then took my husband. You will find him, won’t you?” Melody knelt in front of Chase and clutched his hand. “Please! I don’t know what we’ll do without Allen.”
“Did you notice Allen behaving differently recently?” Chase asked, shooting Angela a pleading look as he tried to extricate his hand from Melody’s grasp.
“No. He went to the office, stayed until 8:00 or 9:00 p.m., and then came home to sleep, just like always. He’s worked a lot since Christian was born.” She stood, wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, and walked to the bay window in the front of the room. “Money always seems to be tight even though he gets paid well.”
“Has anyone unexpected called since Allen disappeared?” Angela spoke for the first time.
Melody thought hard before shaking her head negatively. “No one’s called except for my friends, Abigail and my mother. Mom thinks Allen left us and wants me to come home.”
“That may be a good idea, Melody.” Angela interjected softly. “Just in case. It would be safer for you and your son.”
“Do you think so? I don’t want to abandon Allen, but if you think I’m in danger, maybe I should go visit my parents.” Melody’s lip quivered and she looked at Chase, clearly needing a male opinion.
“I agree, Melody,” he concurred quietly. “Why don’t you write down your parents’ address? We’ll contact you there if anything turns up.”
Quickly, the young mother jotted down an address in Worchester, a nearby town, and handed it to Chase. “Thank you for your help,” she offered with a watery smile.
“Someone will be in touch,” Chase replied before whisking Angela from the home to avoid any questions Melody might have.
“Missing! How can he be missing?” Angela complained the moment they stepped onto the sidewalk.
Chase hurried down the street, using the glass storefronts to check for a tail. Ducking into a small store, he pulled Angela toward the rear and shoved her out a side door.
“What are you doing?” Angela demanded as Chase dragged her down several alleys before rejoining the crowd on a main thoroughfare.
“We picked up a tail.” Chase lengthened his stride, and Angela jogged to keep up, Chase’s grip on her wrist preventing her from slowing her pace. “I don’t like the fact that Richards is missing either. His wife’s either an incredible actress or a total idiot. No one in their right mind would give that kind of information to someone without asking for identification. I wouldn’t be surprised if Richards just abandoned her and the kid. Don’t you ever open the door like that without verifying ID. Actually, IDs can be faked. Just don’t open the door.”
“Chase!” she gasped, her hand pressing against her ribcage. “I’m not an idiot. I can take care of myself.”
After a quick glance at her face, Chase slowed slightly. He caught sight of an entrance to the “T,” Boston’s subway system, pulled her down the stairs, purchased two tokens, and jumped onto the train that was just pulling out of the station.
“Where are we going?” she hissed, glaring at him.
Chase smirked as he pulled her into a seat in the back of the car where he could monitor the doors. “I thought I’d take you for a ride.”
“Well, this isn’t the kind of ride I’d prefer,” Angela snapped back.
Chase snatched her off the seat and set her in his lap. He loved her fiery attitude.
“I’m not a toy or a sack of potatoes. You can’t just haul me around like this, Chase,” she insisted, struggling against his vise-like arms.
“I know you’re not a sack of potatoes or a toy. You’re a very beautiful, appealing woman, and I’d like to keep you that way. We had to move fast to lose the tail we’d picked up.” He leaned his chin on the top of her head as she squirmed in his lap. “Babe, stop wiggling. Any other time I’d enjoy what you’re doing, but we’re going to have to move quickly at the next stop.”
Angela froze for a moment. Then, as an evil smile crossed her face, she rubbed her butt against him once more.
“You little devil,” he groaned. “Payback’s a bitch, Angel.” Lifting her off his lap, he stood and marched her to the doors, just as the train stopped. They exited and joined the crowd headed for the street.
Chapter 12
Back at the hotel, Chase reclined on the bed, smirking when Angela rested her hands on her knees and tried to regulate her breathing. He kicked off his shoes and gestured for her to join him. Shaking her head, she sat primly in the armchair despite the overwhelming desire to feel his arms around her.
“Two men followed us from the Richards’ place. I’m pretty sure one was a fed, but the other is an unknown.” He closed his eyes and pictured the two men, knowing Zach would expect an accurate description.
“I didn’t see anyone earlier. Were we followed all morning?” Angela walked toward the window and glanced outside.
“No,” he answered. “I’m guessing they picked us up at Richards’ place and followed us because we talked to the wife. The feds probably have the place under surveillance, if Richards
was in someone’s pocket.”
“What do you mean?” Angela rifled through the mini-bar, located two bottles of water and tossed one to Chase before opening the other. The cool water helped ease her parched throat.
“Chances are he was involved with someone who ordered your father’s death. Richards either provided the drugs or was simply part of the cover-up. His wife indicated they had financial problems, so I’m guessing the good doctor owed money to someone who was involved in or benefited from your father’s death.” Chase paused for a moment, clearly pondering what they had learned. “It’s possible Richards had a drug or gambling problem. Something like that would create financial problems and put him in debt to the kind of people who’d be involved with Mac’s death.”
“Gambling?” Angela nibbled delicately on her lower lip as a memory flashed through her mind. She had sneaked down the stairs after bedtime, hoping to steal a cookie from the kitchen. Her dad and Derrick were standing in the family room, so she sat down on the stairs, waiting for them to look away so she could sneak by the open doorway to get to the kitchen.
Derrick, you have to stop! Her father had yelled. You’re in over your head with these people.
I’m fine, Mac. I just find the track relaxing. I can’t believe you’re acting like this over a little betting on a horse race. She remembered Derrick laughing as he raised the bottle of beer. Shit, Mac. You’ve forgotten how to have fun.
I don’t consider losing $20,000 fun, Derrick. How in the hell do you plan to come up with that kind of money? And don’t tell me you’re going to accept Christoph’s offer! The last thing you need is to be indebted to the mob. Her father had slammed his hand on the top of the table, frightening her and she’d scurried back to bed without the cookie.
Angela shook her head to clear the memory and sighed. “I think Derrick had gambling problems years ago. I don’t know the details. I just overheard a conversation one night. Dad complained about Derrick betting on horse races.”
Chase swung his legs over the edge of the bed and tugged her to stand between his legs. “How long ago was this?”
Angela ran her fingers through his dark, thick hair, massaging his scalp. His green eyes darkened, and he practically purred as she caressed him. “I was around eleven or twelve, I think,” she guessed. “I was trying to sneak into the kitchen for a cookie after I was supposed to be asleep and heard Dad and Derrick arguing about Derrick losing $20,000.”
“Gambling problems could explain why Mac bought out Derrick’s share of the partnership,” Chase reflected, easing her into his lap.
“You know, there are chairs in the room,” Angela commented idly, not really objecting to the maneuver but feeling a need to say something.
Chase’s eyes sparkled, and she suspected he was about to tease her. “Actually, as long as you’re in my lap, you can’t get into trouble.”
“Oh, really?” Her eyes lit up and she smiled impishly. “I think I could find all sorts of trouble in your lap.”
Chase’s lips descended on hers just as he murmured, “Only the best kind of trouble.”
Angela stopped thinking within seconds, simply enjoying the pleasure that took over her body as their lips and tongues delved, caressed and played. A few minutes later, they lay tangled together on the king sized bed, Angela’s head resting on Chase’s chest. She could hear his heart beat as he toyed with her curls.
“We need to talk, babe.”
Pouting, Angela looked up at him through her lashes. “I thought we were going to…you know.”
“Have sex?” The corners of Chase’s mouth tipped up in a broad smile, and Angela blushed at his blatant perusal. Just when she thought he would kiss her again, he sighed softly. “Sorry, Angel. It’s not happening. I must admit, I’m enjoying playing with you though.” He placed gentle kisses along her jawbone as he spoke.
“You, you, you ass!” she sputtered, jolting upright, full of righteous anger. “You’re playing with me? Who the hell do you think you are, mister? I’m not some kind of toy! I have feelings, you know!”
“I know, Angel,” he assured her, pulling her back into his arms. “Which is why this isn’t going any further. I don’t want to hurt you, and if we take this to its natural conclusion, you’re going to become emotionally attached to me. That’s not in your best interest.”
“Why the hell not? It’s not like you’re some kind of criminal or something!” she retorted, turning on her side to glare at him.
“How do you know what I am?” Chase shot her a level look.
“I just know,” she snapped back, pushing against his chest. “Look, Chase, I refuse to believe you’re a bad guy. If you were, Uncle Zach wouldn’t have sent you to protect me. Besides, I trust you, and Dad taught me to rely on my instincts.”
“Fine.” Chase changed the subject. “Walk me through what you actually know, Angela,” he insisted, changing the subject and shifting as he piled pillows against the headboard and leaned back.
“I know that someone killed my dad,” Angela snarled. “Since you’ve changed the subject, maybe we should talk about what we’re going to do about Dad’s murder!”
“Set that aside for the moment, babe.” He closed his eyes, and Angela wondered if he was running out of patience. “We need to figure out what everyone is looking for and where your dad hid it first.”
“How do we even know he took it? Whatever it is! Everyone keeps insisting he stole this thing. Dad wasn’t a thief.” Angela narrowed her eyes. When he met her gaze calmly, she stomped over to the window.
“Say he wasn’t.” He stopped and held up his hand when her eyes cut angrily to his. “Let’s assume that he took the item to safeguard it. Where would he have hidden it?”
“How would I know?” She tossed her hands in the air, frustrated by the situation and his persistent questions.
“Well, who would he have trusted with it?” Chase probed. “Come here, Angel.” He patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Come here and talk to me. I can’t do this without you.”
Angela paced back and forth for a few minutes. It took only five steps to reach the other side of the room. Chase waited patiently until she flopped onto the bed next to him and buried her face in a pillow. “I don’t know, Chase. I just don’t know.” Her voice was muffled, but her frustration came through loud and clear.
Chase hauled her onto his chest and kissed her forehead. “You know more than you think. Just talk out what you know.”
“Okay, so Daddy went to work – I think – in Boston. He called Uncle Zach that day. But from what you’ve said, Zach didn’t call him back.” She glanced at Chase and he nodded, agreeing with what she’d said so far. “Sometime before he….” She paused and cleared her throat. “Died, he arranged to have my birthday present engraved. Then he collapsed on the sidewalk.” Angela stopped, gathering her thoughts.
“How did he make the arrangement for the engraving? In person or via phone?” Chase threaded his fingers through her curls and massaged her scalp.
Angela leaned into his touch. “He stopped at the jewelers. J & J Jewelers to be exact. It’s in Boston. I spoke to the owner.” She paused, recalling the conversation with Mr. Jenkins. “He didn’t think Dad acted out of the ordinary; he was just in a hurry. Apparently, he changed his mind about having my present engraved.” Shrugging slightly, she reached up and toyed with her necklace. “I know something’s going on with Derrick since Dad bought out his share of Investigations, Inc. I found the papers showing the dissolution in a floor safe in Dad’s office. When I confronted Derrick, he denied it, claiming Dad just loaned him money. I didn’t get a chance to ask him what he needed the money for. That was the day we met. Remember, Derrick and I were arguing on the porch?”
Chase nodded, his body tensing when she mentioned the argument with Derrick. “Zach was supposed to look into Derrick, but I have no idea what he found, if anything. So if Mac couldn’t reach Zach and he doesn’t trust Derrick, who would he reach out to? Who would he trust
with something important?”
Angela sighed in response to Chase’s question. She wondered the very same thing. “Normally, I’d say me, but I didn’t get anything.” She jolted upright and turned to look down at Chase. “I haven’t been home! I went straight from the office to the airport when I got the call about Dad. What if he sent it to my apartment?”
Her face fell when Chase shook his head. “It’s not likely, babe,” he advised. “Your apartment has probably been tossed several times by now so I doubt whatever we are looking for was there. But it might be worth a trip to DC to make sure.”
Chapter 13
Several hours later, Angela woke, her gun digging into her back as she reclined against the leather seat. She struggled to open her heavy eyes, panicking when she realized that the driver’s seat was empty. She reached over and placed her hand on the still warm seat. She blew out a breath, relaxing even more when she spied Chase jogging toward the car.
Angel on Fire Page 9