Deadly Aim

by Patricia H. Rushford

  Angel tipped her head back against the headrest and looked at him. “Thanks.”

  He nodded. “Just doing my job.”

  Angel sighed. “I... I’m not sure I want to press charges. It’ll just make the situation worse. They already hate me. Maybe they have nothing to do with the gang. Maybe they’re just family members trying to get revenge.” She remembered the pastor’s sermon cautioning them against the use of violence.

  “I don’t think loss is a factor. I doubt these guys were even part of the family. They’re more than likely opportunists, taking advantage of the situation.”

  Angel turned to look out the window.

  “You can’t let them get away with this, Angel. I’ll take you down to the station. You can give your statement and take a look at the guys who attacked you.”

  The idea made her stomach ache. She changed the subject. “I have to get another car.”

  “You can call a rental agency. My truck is in the shop, otherwise I’d loan it to you.”

  “Thanks, but it’s my problem. I’ll take care of it.”

  “You shouldn’t be alone, you know.” Callen frowned. “These guys will probably be out by tomorrow. Do you have any place you could hide out for a few days?”

  “You may be right. Maybe I’ll take the twins up on their offer and stay at their resort.”

  Callen raised his eyebrows. “Twins? Resort?”

  Angel told him about her brothers and their new resort.

  “Sounds like a nice place. Don’t suppose they’d have an extra room for a worn-out cop.”

  She smiled as though she might not mind his company. “We could ask.”

  The thought of staying at the same resort with her was far too appealing. And far too impossible. He had to change the subject, and fast. “How did things go with Joe yesterday?”

  She turned slightly in her seat. “Not good. They want me up on man one.”

  “No way.” Callen couldn’t believe they’d actually go that far.

  Angel leaned back and stared out the window.

  “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he said. “The public has been leaning pretty hard on us lately. Every time we have to use deadly force, they turn against us. Look at the incident last month when that psycho kidnapped his son and threatened to kill him. Officers shot the guy, and his family threw a fit. He wasn’t armed, but our guys didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah, we do our job and then have to take the criticism. It’s not fair.” Angel sighed then looked over at him again. “I should’ve waited—with Billy, I mean. I should’ve tried to talk to him first. Maybe then I would’ve seen that his gun wasn’t real.”

  “You indicated that he was a threat. The gun could have been real. Then it would’ve been your funeral. I can’t say what I would’ve done in the same situation, but from what you said in your testimony, I doubt that any police officer would’ve acted differently.”

  “I appreciate that, Detective.”

  Callen pulled up in front of the police station. “Good, now do the right thing and file charges against the hoods who messed up that great car of yours.”

  He waited until she stepped inside before driving off. He was beginning to feel like a hooked fish on a line. The more he fought, the more securely the hook embedded itself. Angel was reeling him in bit by bit, and Callen was willing to bet that she had no idea she was holding the pole.

  At the station, Angel gave her account of the attack. By the time she’d finished, anger had replaced the fear. How dare they ruin her car? She loved that car. And what would Luke say? It would cost a fortune to have it fixed. People could be mad at her, but they had no business breaking into her home or destroying her property—and they had no business threatening her life. She wasn’t certain what had prompted her to consider not taking action against the men who’d attacked her. Nerves, maybe. Or fear that they’d come after her again.

  Well, let them. She’d go after them until they either killed her or were put away for a long time. Callen had been right in advising her to press charges. He had been right about a lot of things. She thought back to his remark about coming to the resort with her and wondered what it would be like to spend some time with him without the pressures of the criminal investigation.

  Since Eric was on his way out when Angel left, she asked him to drop her off at the hospital. Her father was doing well. His color looked good, in spite of all the tubes and wires. Still, her mother insisted on spending the night and insisted Angel go home and get a good night’s rest.

  For once she obeyed her mother.

  Brandon dropped by Angel’s apartment at 6:00 that night, bringing another bouquet of roses.

  “What’s this, a peace offering?” Angel asked.

  “I figured you needed some new ones.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek as though nothing had changed between them. “How are you?”

  “Things could be better.” She stepped aside to let him in.

  “I heard about your run-in at the cemetery today.” His brow furrowed and worry lit his blue eyes. “When I saw that footage I couldn’t believe it. I... I should have been there with you.”

  Angel went to him, and they held each other for a long time. It felt good to be held and comforted, but her mother’s words drifted around in her head. You don’t love him. You’re using him.

  Brandon took a step back. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

  She looked at him and raised up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “You haven’t done anything wrong, and I don’t blame you for your father’s decision.” She was feeling magnanimous in light of the fact that she now had a terrific lawyer.

  “I just wish there was something I could do.” Brandon sighed.

  “You can. Just be a friend.”

  “I can handle that.” He settled on the couch. “Where did all this furniture come from? I thought your stuff got trashed.”

  “It did. I have no clue who did this. I came home the other day, and it was all here. There was no note or anything. My family denies having anything to do with it. Was it you?”

  A blush crept up Brandon’s neck. “I wish it had been. I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about you having to replace everything.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Angel stood with her hands on her hips, looking around the room again. There were things she hadn’t noticed before, like the blue marbled glass ball that sat on the end table. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “What are you going to do about a car?” Brandon asked.

  “Rent one, I guess.”

  “You can borrow one of ours. Or I can lend you our limo driver. Dad and I never use him unless it’s to impress some wealthy client. Mom uses him a lot, but I’m sure she won’t mind.”

  “I don’t want a limo driver.” Angel shook her head. “I can see it now. I’m shopping at Goodwill and telling him to wait outside.” She chuckled at the thought. “But thanks. I’ll get a rental. My insurance will cover it—I hope.”

  “Then use my car.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll figure out something.”

  Brandon sighed. “Okay, you don’t want to talk about it. I can take a hint.”

  Angel sat down beside him. “Tell me about the Kelsey case. How’s it going?”

  “Not good. Kelsey’s body turned up today.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “A tourist spotted him at the bottom of a ravine up toward Cannon Beach. Saw the body through binoculars.” Brandon settled an arm on the back of the sofa, his hand touching Angel’s hair.

  Angel moved forward slightly, and Brandon’s arm dropped to his side.

  “He’d been shot, and he either fell over the cliff or someone pushed him.”

  “Michelle?”

  “I don’t know. She still claims she didn’t kill him. The guys from the crime lab are going over the area, so we should have some answers before long.”

  “Are you still going to represent her?” Angel asked.

  “Yeah. I just hope
she’s leveling with me.”

  The phone rang, and Angel got up to answer it. Big mistake. The caller issued forth an assortment of vile names, some of which she had never heard before. As a police officer, she was used to hearing vulgarities, and at times even had them directed at her, but it wasn’t his words that twisted her stomach. It was the threats that went with them. Her hand shook as she slammed the receiver down.

  Brandon stood up and came toward her. “What’s wrong?”

  She could almost feel the blood drain out of her face. “It was an obscene caller,” she managed to say. “He threatened to kill me.”

  Angel wasn’t used to being the victim, and she didn’t like it. God, what’s happening to me? I’m a police officer. I shouldn’t be letting these guys upset me like this.

  “I’m scared, Brandon,” Angel admitted. “These guys mean business. I pressed charges against them. I don’t know, they... they’re like the mafia and I... well, I guess I don’t know how to fight back.”

  “You don’t have to. The police are supposed to do that.”

  But I am a cop! Or was.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Brandon took her hand and pulled her down the hallway toward the door.

  “Where to?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll drive up to the house. I want your opinion on something. Maybe we can get something to eat after and walk on the beach.”

  Angel grabbed her jacket. Getting out seemed like a good idea, regardless of where they ended up. “I’m not changing my mind. About the house, I mean.”

  “I’m not asking you to.”

  Brandon had parked at the north end of the parking lot, so by walking along the upper deck to the stairs at the far end of the building, they were able to escape the press and quite possibly the caller.

  Once on the road, she breathed a little easier. Several times she checked to see if they were being followed, but in the darkness it was hard to tell. For a long stretch, there was no one behind them—at least as far as she could see. She probably should have reported the call, but what good would that have done? She’d tell Detective Riley about it in the morning. Besides, she and Brandon would be safe out at the house.

  That’s not quite true, is it? You’re really not safe anywhere. Angel shook her head, refusing to give in to her fears and choosing instead to keep her mind on Brandon and the house.

  Brandon’s place was as magnificent as she remembered and looked even better now that he had started furnishing it.

  “What do you think?” He nodded toward the leather sofa and chairs. “My mom helped me pick them out.”

  “They’re very nice. Earthy. You’ll need more color though.” He’d brought a watercolor from his collection at home and placed it on one wall. Soft rose tones and lavenders depicted a horse and rider at sunset. “I’d probably pick up some pillows that match the colors in the painting.”

  He nodded. “Good idea. I got some rattan furniture for the solarium.” They walked through the great room to the solarium. The room was shadowed by plants, the only light coming from a spotlight that lighted the area around the Jacuzzi. Just before Brandon put on overhead lights, Angel thought she saw a shadow moving away from the shrubbery.

  Probably an animal. A panel of spotlights lined one of the frames in the ceiling. Except for the back wall, the entire room was made up of glass panels and doors. Angel imagined the room in daylight with sun streaming in. Colorful tropical print cushions accented the white rattan furniture. Two chairs and two chaises.

  “I love it.” The room was elegant yet practical and made a wonderful greenhouse. The ceiling fan with its wide, leaflike arms would cool the room when the sun overheated it. She lowered herself onto the chaise lounge and put her feet up, luxuriating in the feel of the thick cushions beneath her. “Nice.” She leaned back and closed her eyes.

  Angel almost wished she could say yes to Brandon’s proposal. If he asked her now, she might. It was tempting to let herself flow with the tide—to get married and have children. But you don’t love him, Angel.

  Of course I do. He’s kind and decent and loyal.

  So is a pet.

  “I have a feeling I’ll be spending a lot of time out here,” Brandon said.

  You’re using him. Angel felt a flash of annoyance at her mother. Why did she have to poke her nose into something that was none of her business?

  “It’s relaxing and lets in a lot of light,” Brandon went on. “I have air-conditioning to keep it cool even with the hot afternoon sun.”

  “I’m glad you bought the house. It suits you.” Reluctantly, Angel got to her feet, afraid that if she didn’t she might never want to leave.

  “Where are you going?” He got up as well.

  “Um—nowhere. I’m just feeling restless.”

  Angel flipped off the lights and stood at the sliding glass doors, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness, admiring the sparkling lights of Sunset Cove. Above them, the moon showed its brilliant face in a cool white, with shadows of a smile. “You have a spectacular view.”

  He draped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. She thought about letting him. He didn’t. Nor did he remind her that she could have the view and everything that went with it if she changed her mind. And as much as Angel wanted the security Brandon offered, she couldn’t bring herself to alter the course she’d taken. Turning him down had been the right choice. She loved Brandon as a friend, and she doubted it would ever be anything more.

  Looks like you were right, Ma. She smiled, realizing she’d acknowledged that more than once in the past couple days.

  Brandon moved away. “I have some drinks in the fridge. Want anything?”

  “Just some water, thanks.” She stayed where she was a few moments longer, wishing Brandon would come back and wondering why she insisted on torturing herself like this. Wavering wasn’t usually part of her game plan. But the shooting and everything associated with it had set her reeling, and she couldn’t seem to find her footing.

  Angel took a long drink of the water he handed her. “So when are you moving in?”

  He shrugged. “I’m in no hurry.”

  She yawned. “Oh, sorry.”

  “Tired?” Brandon guided her back into the great room.

  “Exhausted.”

  “It’s no wonder with all you’ve been through lately. I’m not too excited about you staying alone though—not while the creep who called you is on the loose.”

  “I’ll keep my gun under my pillow.” No, she wouldn’t. Her gun had been stolen out of the evidence locker. And the goons that had vandalized her apartment had Nick’s.

  “Not good enough. What if there’s more than one? I’ll stay. I’ll sleep out on your couch. And if you won’t let me do that, I’ll camp outside your door all night.”

  Angel grinned at the thought of Brandon Lafferty sitting on her doorstep in his polo shirt and his designer jeans and leather jacket.

  “You can have the couch.” She didn’t have the heart or the strength to argue. Besides, the thought of Brandon being there gave her a measure of comfort.

  You’re using him, Angel.

  Angel ignored the pestering voice. She’d been going with Brandon for a long time and wasn’t about to break it off now—not until she felt certain it was the right thing to do.

  When Angel got up the next morning, Brandon was gone. He’d made coffee for her and set the newspaper on the table beside his car keys and a note.

  Angel, I had Carl pick me up this morning. Use my car. That’s an order. And be careful. I’ll call you later. Love, Brandon.

  She poured her coffee and picked up the paper. The headlines bore her name again. Someone had snapped a photo of her at the funeral and in the car with the gang of thugs pummeling it. While the photo of her car being beaten up might’ve brought a shred of sympathy for her in the public eye, the article below would nullify it.

  A well-known white supremacist had called An
gel’s actions “commendable.” The article quoted the man as saying, “The world will be better off with one less street kid who would (if he wasn’t one already) become a gang member.”

  Angel groaned. “Great. This is all I need.” She rolled up the paper and threw it against the wall. Then she poured mini shredded wheat into a bowl with milk, peeled a banana, and sliced it over the top. As she ate her breakfast and tried to calm down, she realized she was looking forward to seeing her shrink. Janet had penciled her in for Friday at 11:00, and she intended to go. Today was the day, she decided. This time she’d let Janet do her hypnosis thing. Maybe she’d remember details about the shooting. She had to try.

  Too early for her appointment, Angel drove to the beach and parked Brandon’s Lexus at an angle that gave her a clear view of the coastline north and south. Another sunny day. She’d worn a white sweater with jeans and Reeboks. She removed the sweater and tossed it into the backseat, then locked the car and headed toward the water. The tide was out, leaving the sand firm and perfect for exploring.

  Angel walked for about a mile, stopping to pick up agates and looking for shells. When she returned to the car, she realized she still had a thirty-minute wait. After watching a couple with a kid and a kite exit their van, she leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes.

  In the distance a dog barked. A child laughed. Angel’s eyes drifted open, and she stared at the beach beyond the windshield. The child laughed again, running with a kite twice his size. A young couple, probably his parents, urged him on.

  Did Billy ever fly a kite?

  The wind lifted the rainbow-colored kite out of the boy’s hands and carried it several yards before depositing it in the sand. Undaunted, the child tried again. This time the kite sailed higher and higher until it danced in the air currents, bound only by an invisible thread.

  Angel rubbed her eyes with her palms and dragged her hands down her face. The clock on the dash read 10:45. She had an appointment with Janet at 11:00. She started her car and backed out of the parking space.

  Minutes later she was lying on a couch under a blanket, listening to quiet music with the sound of rain. Janet’s soft voice guided her into a relaxed state.