by Diane Bator
“I’m on my way to see Brady.” When he heard Shelley comment over the phone, he stuck it in his pocket.
“Brady? Seriously?” Angel batted her blue eyes and huffed. “Do you still think that loser is innocent? You’re crazier than he is.”
“No, actually, I’m thinking about switching sides. I think he’s guilty and I plan to push for the death penalty so I can have his wife for myself.” Not a total lie.
“What? What is it with that woman? How does she always get the guys? I should’ve killed Christina when I had the chance.” Angel’s leer turned into a sneer. “Do you really think Brady Ryan had the guts to shoot Gage in the head? You’re as dumb as he is.”
“Actually, I know he didn’t do it.” Leo folded his arms across his chest, not surprised Angel knew Rose Ryan’s real name. “That’s why I’m here. I think he was drugged and got one good shot off before he collapsed. My guess is that’s when you stepped in.”
Mouth open wide, she sat on the couch and stretched out her legs. The lower half of her robe fell open to reveal enough thigh to distract most men. “Go on.”
Leo fought to ignore the way Angel licked her lips and leaned forward to reveal more skin. “Was it jealousy or did he brush you off? Did he tell you he’d rather sleep with boys than girls?” He paused. “Maybe he mentioned you were past your prime and he wanted you gone.”
Angel reddened. “You’re wrong. Totally wrong. Gage never wanted me or Brady.”
“Are you sure? Who did he want then?” His heart raced. He already knew the answer.
“Rose or Christina, whatever you want to call her.” Angel pouted. “Once Gage met her, nobody else was good enough. Nobody posed like Rose. Nobody moved like Rose. Nobody made him feel like Rose. Nobody was as talented as Rose. Christ, he was the bloody twenty-four hour Rose Ryan channel. The problem was she could out paint that loser blindfolded and he got jealous. He never even knew who she really was.”
“Is that why Gage got involved with Brady? Payback?”
She shrugged and let the sleeve of her robe slide down over her shoulder. “How the hell do I know? Brady was a miserable, moon-eyed troll. He only wanted Gage because your friend Rose had him first. That’s the way he works. Why don’t you come and sit beside me? We can have some wine and talk.” Talking was the last thing she looked like she wanted to do.
Leo took a step back. “I’ll bet you do know. I’ll bet Gage wanted Rose back and Brady was the only person standing between Gage using Christina’s art as his own to make a lot of money.”
“Well, if you’re not going to fool around with me, at least be a dear and get me a glass of wine.” She indicated a blue bottle on the counter.
He poured her wine from the open, full bottle and set her glass on the coffee table. Out of her reach. “First you have to answer a few questions.”
Angel grimaced. “Anyone ever tell you what a jerk you are?”
“Pretty much daily.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Why’d you frame Brady for Gage’s murder?”
She sat up and reached for the glass. “He was whiny and stupid and totally deserved it. All I wanted was Gage dead and for that liar Rose to take the fall. She told me she’d be back by then, but only Brady showed up that night instead.”
Leo’s stomach did a flip. “You wanted to set Rose up instead?”
“Oh, hell yeah.” She gulped her wine and made a face. “The farther that little witch is out of my life, the better. All I ever wanted was a life with Gage. A life full of parties and paintings and free-flowing booze.”
“Instead you got dumped for a pudgy, bald guy.”
“Don’t rub it in.” Angel frowned. “Gage had no idea what Brady was really like. He never knew the whole story about Marty or that Brady only married Rose to pay off his debts. She danced for free while he played with his boy toys.”
No surprise. Brady wasn’t faithful to Rose, nor she to him.
“So what happens now?” She sipped again, her words beginning to slur. “You are going to whisk me off to jail where I can live happily ever after?”
“Something like that.” How much had she drank before he’d arrived? He glanced around for a second bottle. The same dazed look he’d seen on Christina’s face at The Tipsy Duck now settled over Angel’s features. He took her wine glass away. “Were you planning to drug me or was this all for you?”
“Silly boy.” She laughed and lay back on the couch. “Do you really think I’d waste a fine wine on you? I know you’re not a drinker. Actually, I know a lot about you.”
“Like what?” Leo grabbed her phone to dial 9-1-1, while Shelley barked commands over his cell phone.
“Like you’d never pass by a damsel in distress. I saw a lot of things while I hung around Packham and spied on you and your little girlfriend. I even know you slept with her.” Her head lolled to one side and her words slurred. “I know you’d never be able to sleep at night if you left me here to die. Soldier or not, I’m not the enemy. Brady is.”
“You’re Christina’s enemy.” He asked the emergency operator for an ambulance, positive from the white powder and wine that Angel had already ingested enough drugs to cause an overdose. On his own phone, Shelley shouted for him to unlock the door, she was on her way.
Angel sighed. “She’d never leave me to die either. Don’t let the naked dancing fool you, honey. She’s a goody-goody. That’s why Brady and Gage loved her. She’s everything I’m not.”
Leo unlocked the apartment door. “What kind of drugs did you take, Angel?”
“Who wants to know?” She giggled. “God? Is God going to save me now that I told you the truth? Hey, God,” she shouted so the operator could hear. “I killed D.J. Gage. I tried to frame Rose Ryan, but she never freaking showed up so I clocked her husband on the head and stuck the gun in his hand instead.”
“What was that?” the operator asked.
Leo lowered his voice. “Just listen and send an ambulance.”
“An ambulance is on the way, sir.”
Angel laughed so hard tears rolled down her face. “I killed Gage, I framed Brady, and I took enough painkillers to numb the pain for good. Forever and ever, amen.” She rolled her head to face Leo. “If I say amen does that make it a prayer even if it’s a murder confession?” Her eyes rolled closed.
“Hurry!” Leo barked into both phones, then knelt on the floor next to Angel. “What did you take? Where’s the bottle?”
Her laugh turned into giggles that dissolved into a flood of tears. “Gone. You’ll never know and it’ll haunt you for the rest of your miserable life. And so will I, just because you’re so damn cute.” She gasped for air, her voice thinned. “Forget the medics and just let me die, Leo Blue. I deserve it. I’ve been a bad little girl.”
“Yes, you have. You’re not going to die, Angel. No one can punish you if you die.” He raced around the apartment to search the garbage cans. By the time Shelley and the medics arrived, he’d discovered the pill bottle in the trash and had re-corked the wine.
The medics worked furiously to revive her then carted her off to hospital. Leo closed his eyes and groaned. Angel probably wouldn’t make it. At least he had her confession and needed to talk to Brady before he could return to Packham and talk to Christina.
Shelley followed Leo down the hallway away from the police interrogation room an hour later. “I can’t believe you managed to get Angel to confess on tape.”
“Both you and the operator heard everything. The police found Angel’s prints on the wine bottle in Gage’s apartment that night. She’d originally said she bought the bottle, which gave her more opportunity to drug it. The ME also found traces of her lipstick on both Gage’s face and Brady’s. If she hadn’t seen Brady that day, he wouldn’t have had any on his cheek.”
“And the smoking gun?” She quickened her pace to keep up with his long legs.
“None of her prints were on the gun,” he said. “Just on the bullets. My guess is she used gloves or even the sat
in sheets on Gage’s bed to hold the grip. The lab techs did find powder burns on the bedding.”
“Holy shit.” Shelley stopped. “So that’s it? Brady’s actually innocent.”
Leo faced her. “He still fired a weapon at another human being. Whether that shot was one that actually hit Gage or went into the wall is still up to ballistics to figure out. Chances are, Brady couldn’t hit the broad side of an artist.”
She let out a groan. “So we’re done.”
“Aside from springing the loser out of jail? Yeah, we’re done.”
An awkward silence surrounded them until she sighed. “That’s too bad. I was just starting to like you. You’re a good guy. Make sure you keep in touch, maybe I can put you to work again sometime. What do we do with Brady now?”
Leo shrugged. “I’d love to leave him in jail for a while longer just to make a point, but he has some loose ends to tie up.”
“His runaway bride,” Shelley said. “So what do we do? Hand him over to Marty or bring him to Packham? If Marty doesn’t want him, could you make sure he gets to Christina’s bakery?”
He hesitated, not convinced reuniting Christina and Brady was a good idea. “I’ll call around and drop him off with the highest bidder, but you’d owe me big time.”
“Honey, you send me your expense report and I’ll do whatever you want.” Shelley winked. “Anything.”
Leo grinned. “Then keep Brady as far away from Christina as humanly possible.”
“Except that.” She handed him a letter. “His highness requested you take him to see her for Christmas.”
Leo flared his nostrils. “No way in hell.”
“Too late. I already made arrangements for the courts to release him into your custody until all charges are dropped.” She flashed a saccharin smile. “You don’t have a choice.”
“Why didn't you tell me this sooner?”
Shelley winked. “It must have slipped my mind while you were saving the day. You have a Merry Christmas, Leo. Have a good trip back to Packham with your co-pilot.”
Chapter 24
Eyelids still heavy, Christina sat up on her bed then fell back. Having Lucy’s help, even for a few precious hours, was fun and had given her an energy she’d only felt while painting with Gage. She closed her eyes and released a long sigh.
Lucy had been a fresh reminder of all Christina’s dreams discarded along the roads she’d taken. While Lucy fought to become a writer and make her dreams come true, Christina had given up. Even worse, she’d let Gage, Mel and Brady decide her fate. They’d fought to undermine her talents while she’d stood by in naive silence.
Gage had tried to pass her paintings off as his own.
Brady had used her to pay off his debts.
Mel wanted her to fill in for her mother.
Christina was done. She had her own dreams, her own calling. She refused to be a doormat for the men in her life anymore.
Once Christmas was over and Packham rang in the New Year with the last of her sugar cookies and gingerbreads, she’d pack up her meager possessions and move to New Mexico. In the anonymity of the desert, she’d become the artist she’d always dreamed. She’d live her life alone in a small cottage overlooking the sagebrush and breathtaking Taos mountains.
For now, however, she flicked on Clancy’s television while she debated how to start her day. Should she shower first then go the bakery, or just pull on her work clothes and stumbled down the stairs in the cold, showering later so her hair didn’t freeze?
The early morning news came on and, as she stood and stretched a kink from her neck, images of Brady and a gurney carting off a body bag filled the screen. Gage. Her heart seemed to stop and her entire body grew heavy. On the verge of collapse, she sat at the end of the bed and turned up the volume as an image of Angel flashed onto the screen.
“...the exotic dancer was reported to have committed suicide after admitting to the murder of local artist D.J. Gage less than a month ago. Jennifer Sinclair, better known as Angel, a performer in Rascalz, was recorded in a nine-one-one call confessing to the murder shortly before she succumbed to an apparent overdose of drugs and alcohol.”
Christina turned off the television, the image of Angel burned into her retinas. “Why?”
Angel had always been her good friend. Her confidante when she’d met Gage, who’d gushed over her talent and beauty. Her shoulder to cry on when she’d discovered the arrangement between Brady and Marty.
“Crap.” She rolled over to pound a pillow. “Crap. Crap. Crap.”
While she’d wanted Brady to be innocent, this wasn’t the ending she’d hoped for. She opted for the shower and cried until she had nothing left inside. Life had to go on. The town still needed their bloody cookies and fresh-baked buns to survive the holidays. After braiding her hair, she pulled on clean cargo pants and a tank top then reached for her mom’s old sweater. Even the soft acrylic did nothing to help her feel grounded.
She slid into her running shoes and made her way to the bakery. Her mind numb from shock as she turned on the ovens and took out her ingredients. As she turned to set eggs and shortening on the table, she noticed the note propped between two shiny new cookie cutters. “On the eleventh day of Christmas, someone gave to me eleven silver bells.”
Eleven silver bells meant today was Christmas Eve.
Christina sighed. One more week before her nightmare was over and she’d be free to leave. Free to mourn her losses and live the life she wanted. She just didn't know what kind of life that was just yet.
As she re-read the note, curiosity led her into the store. Amid the other ornaments, the tree was adorned with tiny silver bells that tinkled at her touch. At least her Secret Santa hadn’t given up on her.
After a few deep breaths, she set her brain on automatic and went about the day. Customer after customer entered asking for “those amazing cookies” their friends had served at Christmas parties, dinners and luncheons. Christina gave up baking bread and buns to keep up with the cookie demand. She considered calling Lucy to come back and help even if she had to bring the kids, but was just too busy to call or even to answer the phone that rang incessantly from ten until noon.
Worst of all was that everyone wanted to hang around the display case to discuss the latest in Gage’s murder case. Why would a stripper want to kill such a talented young man? Who was the guy they’d already arrested? Was he going to be released now? Christina, like the rest of them, had no answers.
When Clancy arrived shortly after lunchtime, his jaw dropped. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Christmas Eve and I can’t keep up with the demand for cookies.” She huffed a hair out of her eye. “People are going crazy for them.”
“Of course they are.” Clancy didn’t seem nearly as surprised as she was. “Lady, you’re the best baker in town.”
“I’m the only baker in town.”
“Potato, potahtoe.” He grinned. “You need anything?”
She winced. “Help.”
“Sure.” Clancy shrugged. “I’m closed for the holidays anyway.”
As he donned an apron and stepped behind the counter, Christina wanted to ask if he could call Lucy instead. She didn’t bother. “Thanks. You’re the best.”
He snapped his head toward her. “Was that a compliment?”
“No.”
“Funny, I could’ve sworn that was a compliment.”
Christina tried to hide her smile. “Well, it wasn’t. Get to work.”
From lunch until she locked the door at three o’clock, Clancy sold every last piece of baking on the shelves. He stood behind the counter and frowned. “No wonder you needed help, those people are animals. Is there anything left in the back?”
She shook her head. “Just the packages I put aside for you, Lucy and the kids.”
Clancy smiled. “She had fun yesterday.”
“Tell her if she ever wants a job...” She cracked her neck. “That won’t work. I won’t be here after the New Year. Doe
s she want to run a bakery?”
“No, but she’d gladly work for you again anytime,” he said. “Say, maybe during the busy seasons like Christmas and Easter. Maybe Dad will be back by then. He called me, by the way.”
“Oh yeah? What did he want?”
Clancy wiped at the same smudge on the table for a third time. “He’s not coming home for Christmas after all. He’s decided to stay in Florida for another month or two. I thought he hated that place.”
“So he said. Maybe he found a girlfriend.”
“Or maybe he had one down there all along. I wouldn’t put it past him.” He frowned. “Someone should keep the bakery open for Easter and people do love your sugar cookies.”
“So you think I should stay.”
He took off his apron and approached her. “I think you should do what makes you happy. If that includes running the bakery and painting in your spare time, then I’m all for it.”
Christina hugged him. “Thanks. And thanks for helping me out.”
“Anytime.” He caught her up in a bear hug and set her down near the Christmas tree. “Now, where did you hide my calzones?”
“I haven’t had time to make any today.”
“Then fork over the cookies.” Clancy grinned. “Don’t forget, you’re invited to Lucy’s house for dinner tomorrow.”
“Which is why I made the extra package.”
“Then you’re coming for Christmas dinner, Scrooge? That’s awesome.”
Christina gave him a playful punch to the arm then turned to clean up the bakery. “Be nice. I’ll be there. For Lucy.”
Once he left and the doors were all locked, the bakery seemed even quieter than usual. When her pocket vibrated, she assumed Clancy had forgotten something. “What?”
“Well, that’s a nice Christmassy greeting.” Brady snorted. “Hey, I’ve got good news. Leo got me out of jail. I finally get to go home and put all this murder nonsense behind me.”
“What do you mean behind you?” She flinched. She’d forgotten about the possibility of Brady’s release. “Are you serious?”