by Cindy Kirk
Between the lights, the sirens and the crowd of rowdy bystanders, that dingy street corner had taken on a surreal, almost circus-like atmosphere. Her uncle only added to the picture. The man had been out of control, spitting and cursing and, when that didn’t work, screaming police brutality. High on meth, his focus was on everyone but his niece—a fifteen-year-old girl crumpled on a dirty sidewalk in a pool of blood.
The bullet had nicked an artery, and as one of the first responders, it had been Officer Truby’s assignment to keep pressure on the wound until the paramedics arrived.
Now she stared solemnly at the officer. “I never said thank you.”
A look of surprise flashed across his features. “I was only doing my job.”
“You saved my life,” she said softly.
“So, it’s true.” Jake’s voice was heavy with disappointment.
Angel dropped her gaze and kicked the dirt with the toe of her sneaker. One of her clips had come loose, and she pushed back her hair with a surprisingly shaky hand. A return to that time, even if only in her memory, did not come without cost. “Yes, it’s true.”
The officers suddenly seemed anxious to wrap up their investigation. They asked a few more cursory questions and left.
Jake let out a pent-up breath. “I’ll take you home.”
The offer was grudging, but to Angel, the thought of walking held no appeal. “Thanks.”
They headed to the Jeep in an uneasy silence. Angel wasn’t sure what hurt more, her bruised neck or the knowledge she’d disappointed him.
When she’d accepted this assignment, all she’d thought about was the good she’d be doing: getting drugs off the street and out of the hands of kids. She’d never once considered that her deception would cause pain to someone she cared about.
The ten-minute ride home seemed like an eternity. Angel, who rarely found herself at a loss for words, didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t explain without blowing her cover, and wasting her breath insisting she wasn’t a drug dealer would be pointless in light of the evidence against her.
She should have felt relieved when he pulled in front of her house. Instead, the knowledge that the closeness they’d shared was gone twisted like a knife inside her.
If only she could know for sure where he stood. She’d always relied on her gut instincts, and her gut was 99.9-percent certain he was exactly as he appeared. But it was that one-tenth of one percent doubt that gave her pause. How could she risk the entire operation for the sake of her heart?
He turned off the motor and leaned his head back against the seat, lines of fatigue edging his mouth.
She was acutely aware of his presence, the warmth radiating from his body, the spicy scent of his cologne, his handsome profile that now looked set in stone.
Tentatively she reached out to touch his arm. “None of this has anything to do with the way I feel about you.”
He jerked away and his eyes blazed hot with anger. “How can you say that? You’re a liar. A fraud.”
Angel stared at him in astonishment. “Jake, can’t you understand—”
“Understand?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “What? That you want to sell drugs to kids? That it doesn’t affect us because it’s just business? No, I can’t understand that. My whole life is focused on helping these kids, not ruining their lives.”
Harsh and blunt though they were, his words gave her hope. Unless Jake was the best actor she’d ever seen, he was the man she’d thought him to be.
“Jake…”
“Angel—” He reached across her and opened the door. “Go. Please.”
She stared at the face of this man she loved. Loved? Even though she tried to deny it, she knew it was true. And she wasn’t going to wait until it was too late to say it. “I love you.”
His expression hardened. “Love?” he said derisively. “You don’t know what love is. Love isn’t coming on to every man you meet.”
She paused. Granted, she might have come on a little strong, but that had been an act, all part of the investigation. “I have never—”
“Don’t give me that.” He cut her off without apology. “I can think of four guys off the top of my head—” Jake held up his hand and counted them off. “Crow. Then there’s Mike, your best friend’s guy, but why let that stop you?”
“Will you just listen to me!”
He shook his head and continued. “Then there’s Jarvis. What was it you said to him at the Bible study? Something about how you liked to party and there was no need to worry about telling the boyfriend?”
“You misunderstood—”
“Let me finish.” He pressed his lips together for a second. “And, of course, there’s Jake Weston, the biggest fool of them all.”
A look of pain crossed his face, and a band tightened around her heart. She started to speak, but again he cut her off.
“Four men in three months. Quite a record.”
“You can’t believe that.” Hot tears stung the back of her eyes. “You can’t think that I did anything with those guys.”
“You came on to me. You let me kiss you,” he said. “I probably could have done a lot more than just kiss you if I had wanted. And I was your teacher.”
Anger surged. Her head pounded and her cheeks burned as if they were on fire. She wasn’t sure what bothered her more—that he’d accused her of being promiscuous or that he’d brought out into the open the one flaw in his character that she kept shoving to the side.
“Let’s talk about that, shall we?” Her gaze met his without flinching, any hint of tears gone. “You’re a teacher. I’m a student. What kind of man kisses a child?”
His face flushed, and he sputtered, “Are you calling me—”
Angel interrupted him with the same lack of regard he’d shown her. “If the shoe fits—”
“Let me tell you, Angel Morelli, I never would have kissed you if I hadn’t known—”
The ringing of her cell phone stopped his words. She answered it immediately. Only Crow had this number, and it was to be used only in emergencies. “This is Angel.”
“We need to talk.” Crow’s voice was tight and controlled.
“Hold on.” She looked at Jake. “It’s one of my many lovers. He needs me desperately.”
She pushed the door fully open and slid out, casting Jake one last glance. “I’m sure you understand such desires.”
The door slammed shut. On their relationship. And on her heart.
“Go ahead,” she said in a seductive voice loud enough for Jake to hear. “I’m all yours, babe.”
Chapter Fifteen
Tom Jorgen’s sprawling ranch sat on approximately five acres outside Woodland Hills in an affluent subdivision known as Echo Park. The area was heavily wooded, and Angel had carefully hidden her car in some overgrown brush down the road.
She’d come immediately in response to her partner’s call. Even with his directions, it had taken her a while to find him. He sat in the shadows of the trees edging Tom’s property, his high-power binoculars specially made for night viewing in his lap.
“How long has Mike been in there?”
“Over an hour. He came here right from the ball field.”
Angel frowned. “Where’s his car?”
“Must be at home with his other toys. This time he came on a Harley. One of those old ones, an Indian, I think.” Crow shook his head in amazement.
Angel wasn’t into motorcycles at all, but it was apparent Crow was impressed. “Where is it?”
“In the garage,” Crow said. “The kid drove up like he owned the place. He punched a remote and he was in.”
Angel’s brows knit together. “So, he comes here a lot.”
“Looks like it.” Crow glanced at her sideways. “By the way, how are you doing? Those were some mean dudes.”
“I’m okay,” she lied. She wasn’t fine at all. Her head ached, her neck ached, and most of all her heart ached. “That big guy was something else.”
“G
ood thing Weston showed up.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Angel didn’t want to talk about Jake. It had been a long time since she’d been so disappointed.
“Speaking of Weston—” Crow jerked his head in the direction of the drive “—look who’s decided to join the party.”
Angel turned her head slowly and her heart sank at the sight of the Jeep pulling up to the house. “What’s he doing here?”
Although Crow’s poker face gave little away, for an instant Angel swore his disappointment mirrored hers. But Angel knew she must have been mistaken—Crow had never liked Jake.
“My guess is—joining his partners,” he responded.
Shocked, she could only stare. “You actually think—”
“He’s one of them.” Crow draped his arm companionably around Angel’s shoulder. “Good thing we never let him in on the investigation.”
Crow was being kind when he said “we.” She’d been the one convinced all along of Jake’s innocence.
“Yeah.” She remembered how close she’d come to confiding in Jake. “It’s a real good thing.”
Tom Jorgens leaned back in his leather wing-back chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. “By Friday.”
Mike nodded. “I know you said you wanted to back off for a while, but I thought maybe one last time….”
“I don’t know.” It wasn’t like Tom to be so indecisive, but he really didn’t know. His sources were usually reliable and they’d warned him to be extra careful. “Any chance that girl’s a cop?”
“Angel?” Mike laughed. “No way.”
Irritated by the boy’s cavalier attitude toward something so serious, Tom’s voice came out harsher than he intended. “How can you be so sure?”
“For one, she’s just a girl. She’s not old enough to be a cop,” Mike said confidently. “For another, I recognized those guys that stole her stuff. If she was a cop, they would have known her. Third, she didn’t tell the cops any—”
“That’s enough.” Tom waved him silent, tired of the boy’s ramblings. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to get rid of some of the extra stuff he had on hand. Just in case.
Still, in some ways he’d like to keep it for himself. It was surprising how he’d grown to view his indulgence as a way of life. And even though he’d made the decision to save it for “special occasions,” a part of him resisted limiting the one thing that brought him pleasure.
“Hey, man. I don’t have all night. What’ll it be? Yes or no?” Mike spoke with the impatience reserved for the young.
Tom rose and paced the room. He had a bad feeling about this whole deal, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.
“They’ll be paying top dollar,” Mike said, as if that would be an added incentive.
“The money doesn’t matter,” Tom said.
“Don’t give me that, man.” The teen laughed. “As much as you do, you couldn’t afford not to sell.”
“You think you know so much.” Tom shook his head in disgust. “You don’t know anything.”
Getting involved in the manufacturing and sale of the stuff had never been about the money. Initially it was a way to have a guaranteed supply. Then it had been about the thrill—the rush of feeling alive again, of living on the edge. It had been about the forgetting. When he was high on crystal he didn’t think about Jane, and he didn’t miss her quite so much.
Tom glanced at the boy. It wasn’t about money for Mike, either. The kid’s folks were loaded, and he had access to unlimited funds. And Mike didn’t even like to use that much. “It’s not about the money for you, either, is it?”
Mike shifted and stared Tom straight in the eye. “If I wanted to talk about my feelings, I’d see a shrink.”
Tom nodded approvingly. There was nothing soft and wimpy about this kid. He realized suddenly he liked Mike, liked his in-your-face attitude. “Okay, we’ll do it. One last time. You’ll have your stuff by Friday.”
“Is Gade closed down for good, then?”
Tom nodded. It had been a difficult decision to abandon the meth lab they had over in Trashtown. But when he’d found out it was under surveillance, he’d had no choice. “It’s gone.”
“You’re making the stuff here?” Mike’s voice was incredulous.
He could understand the boy’s surprise. Although he’d had the lab set up in the laundry room area off the garage for some time, they’d rarely used it. For no particular reason other than that he felt uncomfortable doing something he knew Jane would not approve of in what had been her house.
“I don’t have much choice,” Tom said dryly. “Right now, it’s all we have.”
“At least you’re out in the sticks.” Mike wrinkled his nose. “Nobody should complain about the smell.”
That had been the problem on Gade. Some of the neighbors had noticed a strange lingering odor and reported it.
“That’s where living in ‘the sticks’ has its advantages,” Tom said wryly, wondering what his neighbors would think of hearing their exclusive area referred to in such a manner.
“I need to get going.” Mike rose just as the doorbell rang.
The two exchanged worried glances. Tom waved Mike back down and headed for the door. “I’ll get rid of them.”
Jake shifted uneasily on Tom’s front step and hit the doorbell again. He sniffed. A strange odor that reminded him of shoe polish hung in the air. He sniffed again and hoped Tom didn’t take too long to answer the door. The smell was giving him a headache.
He glanced around the porch. He hadn’t been to the house since Jane’s funeral, and then the air had been filled with the cloying scent of flowers reserved for the dead.
He pushed the memory aside and focused on his reason for being here, although he still wasn’t sure he should have come. On the one hand, Tom had a right to know what was going on in his school. On the other hand, Jake couldn’t help but feel disloyal to Angel.
The thought that he could still feel anything for her after what she’d done showed just how big a fool he was. Jake raised his hand, ready to punch the bell one more time. Without warning, the door swung partially open.
“Jake.” Tom’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.” Jake hesitated, surprised when Tom didn’t immediately open the door and invite him in. “It’s important.”
Still, the principal hesitated.
“What’s it about?” Tom’s gaze narrowed. “Couldn’t it wait?”
“Actually it can’t,” Jake said. “It’s about Angel Morelli, one of the students that transferred in this semester. I found out something from the cops that I think you should know.”
He’d finally gotten the man’s attention. Tom opened the door wider and motioned Jake inside.
“Thanks, Tom. I—” Jake stopped short.
Mike Blaine stood in the foyer, clearly on his way out. “Mr. Jorgens, thanks for taking the time to talk to me. I appreciate it.”
Tom’s face was inscrutable. “Anytime, Mike.”
Mike shot Jake a hurried smile. “Coach.”
Jake nodded. “Mike.”
The door slammed shut behind the boy.
Thoroughly puzzled, Jake turned to Tom. “What was he doing here?”
Tom hesitated. “I really can’t say too much other than the boy has some personal issues I’m helping him with.”
“Why you?” Jake asked bluntly.
Tom raised an eyebrow. “In case you’ve forgotten—” Tom spaced his words and spoke distinctly, his irritation at being questioned evident “—I have a master’s degree in counseling.”
Actually, Jake had forgotten. “That’s right. You were a chemistry teacher, got the masters in counseling and in—”
“—educational administration.” Tom filled in the blank and motioned Jake into the kitchen. “Now tell me about this Angel person.”
There was the distinctive rumble of a Harley-Davidson starting up, followed by a backfire. Tom paled. “The fool—”
/> An explosion rocked the house and the windows shattered.
For a frightening instant time stood still. Angel had heard of this happening. It wasn’t at all unusual. After all, some of the ingredients used in making crystal were highly volatile, and any little spark could cause the lab to blow.
“Tell ’em we need an ambulance and let ’em know it was a meth lab that blew!” Crow yelled.
Angel punched in the numbers, relayed the message, then took off running toward the house. Toward Jake.
Chapter Sixteen
“The doctors said you were all very lucky.” Nancy Weston handed Jake a cup of hot cocoa. She set a plate of cookies on the table before taking a seat opposite him.
He took a sip to humor her, then put the mug on the place mat in front of him. “Is that what they said?”
Lucky? Funny, he didn’t feel lucky. Oh, he knew it had been a miracle the three of them had survived with such minor injuries. Mike had been hurt the worst, but less than two weeks later his burns had already started to heal. But all Jake felt now was tired. And disappointed.
“When I think I could have lost you, too…” His mother’s hands trembled and her cup joined his on the table.
“Well, you didn’t.” Jake reached over and covered her hand with his. Sometimes it was easy to forget how hard this had been on her. “And now that they finally believe I wasn’t involved, it looks like I won’t be taking that trip down the road to the state penitentiary.”
“That was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard.” Her eyes flashed, and Jake realized the formidableness of a mother’s ire. “I told that detective my son would never be involved in making or selling drugs. The very idea.”
“I told them, too,” Jake said, remembering the endless interrogation. The one thing that had surprised him was that no one seemed interested in Angel and Crow’s involvement. When he’d mentioned they’d been there that night, the cops had taken down their names, but their questions had revolved around Tom and Mike and what Jake knew about them.
