“Okay, okay. I need someone who’ll work cheap.”
Peter chuckled. “Somehow I don’t think we should be using the words lawyer and cheap in the same sentence.”
“Well, with things going the way they are, I need someone fast.”
“How about Rachael?” Paul pursed his lips.
“Good idea, bro.” Peter patted his brother’s back.
“Who’s Rachael?”
“You don’t know Rachael?” they asked at the same time.
Angel frowned. “Should I?”
“Duh. Rachael Rastovski is the babe renting an office at Tim’s church.”
“She’s more than a babe,” Paul said, rolling his eyes at his brother. “She’s a lawyer, and I’ve heard she’s very good.”
“I haven’t met her,” Angel said, “but then, I haven’t been to church lately. Let me guess. She’s new and working on charity cases.”
“Not new exactly. She was working with some big firm in L.A. Don’t know the specifics—just that she’s starting over. Talk to Tim about her.”
Angel hesitated. Maybe she could check Rachael out. First, though, she wanted to know why someone would leave a cushy job in L.A. to work out of a church in Sunset Cove. “Thanks for the tip.” She sighed and pushed herself to her feet. “I’d better get going.”
“Have dinner with us tonight,” Peter said. “We’re taking Mom out. She needs a diversion.”
“I don’t know.”
“We can do Asian. That Vietnamese place you like.”
Paul glanced up at her. “Come on, Ange. You have to eat.”
“Our treat,” Peter added.
“All right. I’ll meet you there. What time?”
“How’s 6:30?”
“Good.” Angel turned to leave and nearly ran down the hall to the elevator, though she wasn’t sure why. She still had thirty minutes before her appointment with Janet.
Going out the hospital’s revolving front entrance, she spotted the headlines on the Oregonian, Oregon’s primary newspaper, announcing that Billy Dean Hartwell’s funeral would be held the next afternoon. She bought the paper and tucked it under her arm.
Angel wanted to attend the funeral and yet she didn’t. She felt an obligation but at the same time worried that her appearance might cause more trouble. She would go, she decided, but she’d disguise her appearance and bring a camera so she’d fit in with the media that would undoubtedly be there.
Angel parked near Janet’s office and spent fifteen minutes walking through the nearby park. Five minutes before her appointment, she went inside the building.
She didn’t have to wait long; Janet met her as she came in and ushered her to her office. “I’m glad you decided to come back.”
“I don’t need psychoanalysis,” Angel said after they were seated. “Just let me come in here and talk to you once or twice a week to satisfy my boss.”
“That’s fine with me.” Janet leaned back in her chair and put her feet on the coffee table. “So talk.”
“About what?”
“Whatever you want. I’m here to listen.”
“Right.” Angel settled herself into the cushioned chair and tipped her head back. Closing her eyes, she waited. The silence built to deafening proportions, and she finally had to break it. “You want to hear about the shooting?”
“If you want to tell me.”
“I don’t really. Besides, you know about it.”
“Not from your perspective.”
“Yeah, I guess not.” So Angel told her what had happened that day. From the call to investigate the robbery at the drugstore to finding Billy Dean and pulling the trigger.
“The papers said you shot him three times. You only mentioned shooting him once.”
Angel opened her eyes. “I only remember shooting once. The guys told me it happens like that sometimes. You get so caught up in an adrenaline rush and can fire off an entire magazine without realizing it. I wish I could remember for sure. I mean, obviously I shot him, but...”
“I may be able to help you remember for sure.” Janet lowered her feet and leaned forward.
“How?”
“Hypnotherapy.”
Angel shook her head. “You’d hypnotize me? I don’t think so.”
Janet smiled. “It’s not what you think. A lot of people freak out about the idea of hypnosis, but it’s a valid tool. I don’t put you under or anything like that. It’s really all about relaxation.”
“I don’t know.”
“No pressure, Angel. Just think about it. Sometimes after a traumatic experience like yours, the memory does odd things. You may remember what happened at any time—or you might not remember at all. Do you still have my card?”
Angel nodded.
“How are those sleeping pills working for you?”
“I haven’t gotten the prescription filled yet. I just haven’t had time. I mean, first there was the break-in, and then my father’s heart attack.”
“I understand that,” Janet said. “But I have a feeling that isn’t what’s kept you from getting the medication. It’s okay to take something, you know. And you can quit acting like everything is fine. We’re old friends, remember? I know you like to stay in control, but you also need your rest.”
“Humph. I’m not sure I know what control is anymore.” Angel’s lips curved in a half smile. “I know. I’m defensive, but I can’t afford to let this get to me. I have to stay on top of things.”
“I understand. But not getting enough sleep will wear you down faster than dealing with this situation. A good night’s sleep will help you cope much better with everything.”
Later in their conversation, Angel brought Janet up-to-date on her dad’s condition and told her about the latest bombshell, being brought up on charges. Janet was easy to talk to, and pretty soon Angel was thinking counseling might actually do some good.
When their time was up, Janet walked her to the door. “I meant what I said, Angel. Call me anytime. And why don’t you come in Friday at 11:00, and we’ll try the hypnosis? Sooner if you want.”
“Thanks, Janet. And thanks for taking me on as a patient. I know it’s unusual to take on a friend as a client, but I just don’t think I could trust anyone else.”
On the way home, Angel struggled with her anger toward Brandon, or more specifically, Brandon’s father. How could he do something like that? It was a slap in the face, and she was furious with Brandon for not standing up to his father. If he really cared about her, wouldn’t he just leave the firm? But maybe Brandon didn’t have the backbone for it. After mulling it over, though, she decided she was more disappointed than angry—at least with Brandon. Michael Lafferty was another story.
When she pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex, she was surprised to find the place clear of reporters. She eased into her regular spot and hurried up the stairs.
Angel paused at the landing and cautiously slipped her key into the lock. She held her breath. Would the intruders be back? At Callen’s insistence, she had gotten the locks changed after they’d cleaned the place up, but she doubted if it would make a difference. If the vandals wanted to get in, they could. Angel hauled in a deep breath as she let the door swing open. She doubted coming home would ever be the simple act it had once been.
She stepped inside. Her breath caught. Someone had been there, only this time was far different from the last.
Whoever it was had left the place immaculate. Someone had cleared out all the garbage. In place of the old sofa and chair were a matching set with a soft floral print. Her slashed mattress had been replaced, and the bed made with a new comforter set in her favorite pastel colors. Though she hadn’t checked the cupboards or the linen closet, she had a feeling nearly everything she’d lost had been replaced.
Tears gathered in her eyes at the unexpected act of kindness. She didn’t even know who to thank but suspected Tim and Susan had instigated the project. She opened the cupboards and shook her head. Whoever her benefactor was had
stocked her kitchen with everything that had been destroyed, and more. In one cupboard she found a new set of pottery mugs, a set of dishes for six, and glasses in all shapes and sizes. Canned goods, flour and sugar, spices, and all kinds of stuff kitchens were supposed to be stocked with filled the pantry. If her mother hadn’t been spending most of her time at the hospital with her father, Angel would’ve suspected her of masterminding the cleanup effort.
After pulling down one of the mugs, Angel heated water in the microwave and fixed some herbal tea. She carried the mug over to the new stereo. Propped up against it were three CDs, Celtic Romance, Classics, and Quietude. Angel put them in the CD player, thinking she’d get an idea of who to thank by listening to their choice of music. It wasn’t the type of music she usually listened to, but it soothed her, and by the time the changer had gone through one of the disks, she had fallen asleep on her new sofa.
Angel awoke to the ringing of the doorbell and peered through the peephole. Tim.
“Hope I’m not disturbing anything.” His questioning gaze took in her disheveled appearance as she opened the door.
“I was taking a nap.” She yawned. “What do you want?”
“Is that anyway to treat your favorite brother?”
Angel rolled her eyes and gestured him inside. Instead of entering, he stepped aside and ushered in an attractive brunette with eyes that sparkled like aquamarine gemstones. She wore jeans and a classic white shirt topped with a navy jacket, and carried a black leather briefcase.
“Angel, meet Rachael Rastovski.”
The woman grinned, revealing a deep set of dimples, and extended her hand. She shook Angel’s with a firm grip. “Nice to meet you, Angel. I’ve heard a lot about you. I hear you’re looking for an attorney.”
“Peter and Paul told me you needed one,” Tim offered. “Um—I mentioned your dilemma to Rachael, and she’s agreed to represent you.”
“Did they also tell you I couldn’t afford to pay you much?”
“Hey, it’s not a problem, honest. Tim and Susan and I have a great working relationship. He provides the space, Susan feeds me, and on occasion I get a paying client so I can actually pay the rent.” She chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll work it out.”
Angel rubbed her forehead. “Tim, I wish you’d called me first.”
“Hey, if you’ve found someone else, no problem.” Rachael waved her hand.
“It isn’t that, Rachael; it’s just that my brothers tend to take over, and I really like to make my own decisions.”
“We just want to help,” Tim said. “Is that so bad?”
“I understand totally.” Rachael’s dimples appeared again. “I have two older brothers. They can be incredibly bossy. Listen, we can send Tim away and you and I can talk. If you don’t like me and decide not to hire me, it’s okay. I can take it.”
Tim started backing away. “I’ll wait in the car.” He turned toward the door then turned back. “Hey, your place is all fixed up. Looks great.”
“Like you didn’t know. Come on, fess up, you got your congregation working on the place, didn’t you?”
He looked surprised. “I didn’t. I’d planned to ask for donations, but with Dad sick and all, I didn’t get around to it. I’ll ask around, though. Maybe my team went on ahead of me.” He grinned at her then turned to Rachael. “Just come down to the car when you’re ready.”
“Why don’t you go back to the office?” Rachael suggested. “I know you have a lot to do. I can take a cab back.”
Tim was reluctant at first then acquiesced. “All right. If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
When Tim had gone, Angel offered Rachael coffee then set about making it.
Rachael wandered over to the sliding glass door. “I assume you want to know something about me.”
Angel nodded. “I heard you’d worked in L.A.”
“Yeah. Criminal law. I didn’t much care for living in L.A. though. It was about as appealing as going to the dentist every day. I’d visited the Northwest a few years ago and fell in love with it. So I quit my job and moved.”
“Where do you live?”
“I bought a little house on Cliff Road. It’s only two blocks from the beach, and I love it.”
“This must be quite a change for you. Do you work alone?”
“Yeah. Except for Sherlock.”
“Sherlock?”
Rachael laughed. “My cat.” She turned to look out at the ocean. “I had a chance to work for a prestigious law firm here in town but decided not to.”
“Which firm is that?”
“Michael Lafferty’s.”
“Really. And you turned them down?”
“I’ve had my fill of the big guns,” Rachael went on. “Too restrictive. I want to be able to handle any case I want, regardless of whether or not they can afford to pay the big bucks. I like working for myself.”
“You’re hired. When can you start?” Angel poured coffee into two mugs and handed one to Rachael.
“Thanks. How about now?”
“Great.”
“Let me get a pad and we can get started.” Rachael retrieved a legal pad and pen from her briefcase, and the two of them settled on the couch. Rachael asked questions, and Angel answered the best she could, relating the shooting incident and everything that had happened in the aftermath.
“Angel,” Rachael said, picking up her half empty cup. “If you don’t remember shooting more than once, then maybe you didn’t. I’ll get the autopsy report and talk to Callen.”
“You mean Detective Riley? Do you know him?”
“We’ve met.”
Angel got up and took her cup to the kitchen and rinsed it out. “I don’t think it’ll do much good. Someone made off with the evidence.”
“Yeah, but he should have something.” Rachael chewed her lower lip. “In the meantime, get some rest. You look terrible.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Rachael waved her hand. “Don’t mention it.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, wow. It’s almost 6:00. Want to catch a bite to eat? I’ll buy if you take me home after.”
“Sounds good, but I’m having dinner with my family.” She paused. “Why don’t you come along? You’d fit right in.”
“Really? Hey, I’d love to if you’re sure it’s okay.”
“More than okay. You already know Tim and Susan. And you must know the twins—Peter and Paul. They told me about you.”
“Oh yes. The twins.” She smiled. “I met them once. They’ll be there?”
“Uh-huh. I take it you approve.”
Rachael placed a hand over her heart. “Approve? Angel, I have died and gone to heaven.”
Angel shook her head. “Sounds like you have it bad. Which one are you in love with?”
“In love?” Rachael chuckled. “I don’t know either of them well enough for that. I only saw them once, and that was very brief. But the memory is definitely lasting.”
“Hmm. I think you had the same effect on them. Especially Paul.”
“No kidding. Which one is Paul, the fast talker or the quiet one?”
“The quiet one.”
“Mmm. Things are looking up.” Rachael set her briefcase on the coffee table. “Um... did you want to take a shower or something before we go?”
“I guess I should. You’ll be okay out here?”
“Go ahead. I want to make some more notes.” Rachael went back to her pad and began writing.
Angel showered and dressed in fresh jeans and a pale blue T-shirt, then pulled a bulky sweater over it.
“Ready?” Angel took a jacket out of her closet and draped it over her arm.
“More than.”
They left the apartment and were halfway down the stairs when Angel noticed several members of the press back on duty. “Oh no. I thought they’d given up.”
“Are you kidding? You’re a big news item. They’ll never give up. Want to talk to them?”
“No.”
“
Then let’s go. Just keep moving. They tried to talk to Tim and me on the way up.”
Angel and Rachael reached the car at about the same time as the members of the press. Angel ducked into the driver’s side and shut the door. Several cameras flashed. Bodies pressed against her car. She honked her horn and shifted into reverse. One reporter tapped on her windshield. Another went around to the passenger side, intent on talking to Rachael.
“I can’t believe this. They won’t even let me back up!”
“Just do it.”
Rachael rolled down the window a crack and pulled out her cell phone. “I suggest you all move out of the way. I’m calling the police. I’ll have you all arrested for harassment.”
“Angel!” one of the reporters shouted. “We’ve heard rumors that the DA is about to bring formal charges against you. How do you feel about that?”
“She has no comment!” Rachael yelled back.
A tall angular man leaned over and peered into the passenger side window. “Rachael Rastovski, is that you?”
“Last time I checked. Hi, Sam.”
“You representing Angel?” Sam asked.
“Maybe.”
“Talk to me.”
“Hey, Sam, do me a favor. Clear these guys out of here, and I’ll give you an exclusive interview in my office tomorrow.”
Sam grinned. “Yeah? Is that a promise?”
“Word of honor. Tomorrow at...” Rachael glanced at Angel, giving her a play-along-with-me look. “What time can you be at my office?”
Angel shrugged. “Ten, I guess, but...”
Turning back to the reporter, Rachael repeated the time and rolled up the window.
Angel blew out a frustrated sigh. “What did you do that for? I don’t want to talk to these guys!”
“Of course, you don’t. And you don’t have to. I’ll talk to him.”
“But you told him I’d be there.”
“Uh-uh. I asked what time you could be there—not that you would be. And I promised him an exclusive. He’ll get that.” She grinned. “From me. It’s better if you don’t say anything anyway. Could cause problems down the road.”
As she backed the car out, Angel decided that she liked Rachael. She inched her car forward as the reluctant news crews stepped out of the way, and a smile crept to her mouth. Maybe, just maybe, things were beginning to turn around.
Deadly Aim Page 15
