Madison frowned. Who did this guy think he was? “I’m sorry, but the sale was final. I’ve already grown quite attached to the angel. I have a collection.”
“I understand that, miss, but the problem is that I sold it by accident. My brother will be very upset if he does not get it back. It’s of extreme value to him—a family heirloom of sorts.” He was talking faster now, sounding almost desperate.
With a sigh, Madison touched her fingers to the sides of her pounding head. She couldn’t take this right now. She had to deal with Carsten first.
“I’m very sorry, but I can’t help you. Thank you for calling.” Madison shut the phone with a quick motion, confused that someone would try to reverse the sale. In all her many transactions, she had never had such a request.
“Sorry about the interruption.” Madison shoved her phone back into her purse and folded her hands in her lap, mostly to keep them from shaking.
“All is fine. So, we were just discussing when you might be able to start the project.” Carsten’s eyes warmed and Madison felt like diving right into them. She fought the instinct and stood abruptly.
“Carsten, I can’t go,” she blurted before she could change her mind. She held out her hand for a professional, polite handshake. “Thank you for the generous offer, but I can’t leave my business at this time.”
He needed to leave, now. Her stilted tone and formal language wouldn’t hide her heart for long.
Carsten rose slowly from his seat and accepted the handshake, never breaking eye contact. “As you wish, mein engel.” With a nod and without a glance back, he once again disappeared from her life.
As before, time froze in place. Madison sat and stared at the empty chair across from her, wondered how it was possible that one man could leave such a strong presence behind while taking her heart along with him. It didn’t seem to be a very fair trade.
Carsten’s words echoed in her ears. “My angel,” he had called her. Not sure how long she sat staring at an empty space that used to hold a miracle, Madison jumped when Shan appeared in the open doorway.
“Please tell me you did not send that handsome man packin’.”
Madison dropped her head onto her folded arms and mumbled against the desktop. “I did.”
“Madison,” Shan whined, drawing out her friend’s name until it sounded six syllables long. She dropped into the chair that Carsten had vacated and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you nuts? The finest looking man I’ve ever seen waltzes in here and offers to sweep you off your feet, and you all but say ‘no thanks, I like standing right here in my designer heels just fine’.”
Madison raised her head just enough to look at Shan. “You were eavesdropping?”
Shan’s gaze fell to the floor and she shifted in her chair. “Not eavesdropping, exactly. Just, you know…intentionally not turning off the intercom after I buzzed him in.”
Madison groaned and let her head drop back against the desk. “You’re right, I’m an idiot.”
“I never said that,” Shan argued.
“But it’s true.”
Madison was greeted with silence at her claim. It was true. She had just turned down a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and for what? The smog of New York City? The crazy cab drivers? The thirteen-hour workdays?
“You need a vacation,” Shan stated.
Madison raised her head and watched as Shan grabbed Carsten’s file from the desktop. She flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for, made a quick notation, and then she slammed the file down beside Madison.
Circled in Shan’s signature purple pen was Carsten’s cellphone number.
“You know what to do.” Shan gave an encouraging smile and slipped out the office.
“I’ll even keep the intercom off for privacy,” she hollered from the other room.
Madison grinned in spite of herself and absently traced the number with her thumbnail. One phone call and her life could change forever. She narrowed her gaze and envisioned a list of pros and cons, justifying the evidence of what she wanted Jetting off to Montana for a few weeks wasn’t really all that more spontaneous or dangerous that dancing with Carsten on the wall in Germany. And that had turned out fine.
That is, if fine meant her heart had been on a roller coaster ever since.
She thumped her fist on the table, determined to quiet the multiple voices arguing in her head. “Do it, Madison. Make the call. This will be good for your career.”
Madison picked up the phone, dialed all but the last number and then slammed down the receiver. Who was she kidding? She could never be that daring. Not for her career. Not even for love.
4
Madison multitasked as she entered her apartment. She kicked off her shoes at the door and dropped her keys into the holder on the marble entry table, all while flipping through that day’s mail and wondering what she had in the freezer to heat for dinner. Hopefully something other than another lasagna.
Throwing her discarded mail into a pile on the table, Madison rolled her neck to the side and then to the front in a stretch before turning to head down the hall. She stopped dead in her tracks, mouth open in shock. Heart pounding, Madison turned a slow circle, taking in her surroundings.
Her apartment had been ransacked. Drawers hung open, pillows and couch cushions lay in heaps on the floors, pictures had been knocked off the walls and chairs upturned. Madison clutched her hand against her chest and fought back a wave of panic, trying to steady the out-of-control rhythm of her heart. What had happened?
Common sense told her to get out of the apartment, but she couldn’t move. Her feet stuck to the carpet as fear caught her breath in her throat. Madison stood frozen in place, afraid to breathe, listening for any sounds that would prove the intruder was still inside. Silence, other than the steady ticking of the kitchen clock and her own pulsing blood pounding a rhythm in her ears.
Madison peeked around the corner of the hall and into the kitchen, not sure what to expect. It, too, was upturned, though not as badly as the living area. Madison plucked a steak knife from the spilled silverware on the tile floor and then crept slowly down the hall. She’d check the bathroom first.
Holding her breath, Madison stepped into the room. Her bare feet were silent on the tile floor. The purple lacy shower curtain fluttered in the draft from the air conditioner vent above. Madison raised her knife, hoping she looked more intimidating than she felt. What would she do with the knife if she discovered someone behind the curtain? Horror stories of victims being killed with their own weapons swam in her head. Oh, God…help me. She grabbed the curtain and yanked.
Nothing.
Madison sagged against the wall and lowered her trembling hand. She sucked in air. She couldn’t relax just yet. Still several rooms to go.
Wielding her knife, she flung open closet doors making noises that resembled a Tarzan yell. When she’d finally finished the once-over of her home, she collapsed in a pile of nerves on her bedroom floor.
She curled up in a ball and rested her chin on her knees. Her body shook uncontrollably. What was she going to do? How would she even begin to put her home back together? How did the intruder get in? What did he want? Was it some kind of sick joke? Madison’s thoughts ran together in a confused jumble, and she finally decided the best plan was to call the police and then find out how her apartment had been broken into.
After making the call to 911, Madison walked about her apartment, checking every window. None seemed to have been bothered. She knew the front door had been locked when she came in, because she remembered struggling with the deadbolt. That left the back door and the fire escape as a possibility.
Madison held her breath as she approached the door that led out of her storage room and to the fire escape down the back of her apartment unit. Time seemed to stand still. Did she even want to look? Sweat beaded on her brow, and she tightened her grip on the doorknob. One, two, three…She ripped it open and held up the knife. The room was empty. But
sure enough, the outside door to the stairs was not only busted open, it was half hanging off its hinges.
Icy fear crept its way down Madison’s spine, tightening like a vice until she could barely breathe. The cruel image of someone kicking in her door and tearing apart her apartment left her gasping for air.
She let the knife slip from her limp fingers and crouched down, putting her head between her knees. She tried to breathe slowly and deeply, but the panic wouldn’t fade. She coughed—almost choked—as the fear pressed in tighter. Madison forced her nerves to obey. “Breathe. Just breathe.” She could get through this. It was just a robbery, right? She lived in New York City. She’d seen a lot of things. Heard a lot of things. She should be more rational than this.
A sudden pounding on her front door set the terror back into motion. Madison started. “Police!” came the brusque voice from the other side.
Madison peered through the peephole to see two uniformed officers, a man and a woman, standing on her welcome mat. She ushered the pair inside. They introduced themselves as Officers Peterson and Wilburg.
“Looks like a definite ransack,” Officer Peterson stated after a glimpse around the apartment. Madison barely refrained from rolling her eyes at his announcement of the obvious. She cleared her throat instead.
“Anything missing?” Officer Wilburg asked. She, at least, appeared sympathetic as she scribbled a few things on a notepad and looked at Madison with expectant eyes.
“I—I don’t know.” Madison stammered. “I just got home and found my apartment like this. I haven’t really gone through anything.” She decided to omit her earlier search of the apartment. There was no reason for these two officers to think her any dumber than she already felt. It’d been stupid, checking things out on her own.
Officer Wilburg raised an eyebrow and made another notation on her paper.
Madison tapped her foot, impatience and adrenaline brimming over. If she had called the cops sooner, would they have been able to do more? It wasn’t as if she had tampered with the evidence. But what did she know about any of this, anyway?
Maybe she should have been watching some crime dramas on TV all these years, after all.
The cops dusted some items for fingerprints, but to no avail. Officer Wilburg turned to Madison and looked her straight in the eyes. Madison’s heart stopped. By the look on Wilburg’s face, this wasn’t going to be good news. She took a deep breath.
“If you have someplace else to stay for a while, I’d suggest doing so. We don’t have much to work with here. Hopefully something will turn up. Sometimes, things like this just happen, and nothing ever comes from it. Other times…” The officer’s voice trailed off, and Madison caught the gist of what the woman wasn’t saying. Other times, people got hurt. She swallowed hard and nodded.
After filling out the report and responding to several more questions she couldn’t answer, Madison was almost relieved when the police left. They had, at least, helped her secure the back door, though to little effect. Madison knew she couldn’t stay home alone that night. If someone had broken in once, they could break in again, just as the policewoman suggested. And then what would she do?
Staring out the window into the foreboding blackness of the night, Madison ran her hands up and down her arms, fighting back the permanent chill that seemed to have taken over her body. What if someone was out there right now, watching…waiting?
She abruptly dropped the blinds and drew the curtains, determined to remain in control. She was an adult. She could handle this.
Madison thought about calling her father, but this would be just another incident for him to lord over her. She was tired of their constant fights. He’d always possessed this intense need for control that was forever clashing with her own desire for freedom. This wouldn’t help matters. She could call Shan, who could come over and help clean up the apartment, but Madison hated to ask her friend to get back out after having had such a long workday. She knew Shan would come in an instant, but even though she was scared, Madison didn’t want company. She wanted to be alone with her doubts and insecurities and try to make sense of them all. Shan would be good for a laugh and cheering up, that much was certain, but Madison wanted answers. And she was determined to find them, even if that meant putting her entire home back together by herself for clues.
Grabbing the nearest couch cushion, Madison shoved it back into place and then bent to grab the next. She worked like a woman on a mission for hours, not even stopping to eat dinner. Surprisingly, nothing was seriously damaged or destroyed, except for a few plates and mugs that had shattered on the kitchen floor. Madison was grateful for that much. However, her gratitude paled in at the realization that she hadn’t found even a hint of what her intruder had sought.
Madison fought back a wave of helplessness as she dropped onto the couch. Was she a random target? Just another victim of New York City crime? She chewed absently on her lower lip. Why ransack but not steal anything? It didn’t make sense. Did someone have a personal vendetta against her? But who? And why? All she did was work. What could she have of value—that the thief apparently didn’t find?
Madison closed her eyes. She had no other life, no chances to offend anyone. And her clients all seemed normal enough. There was no explanation, no easy answer. She needed a plan, a course of action, anything to distract herself from these crazy circumstances. Make that dangerous circumstances. She cast a worried glance at the locked apartment door. She couldn’t stay a second longer. But where could she go if not to her father or Shan?
An idea dawned, an idea completely ridiculous and without merit. But it was all she had. Within minutes, Madison had packed a bag with a change of clothes and some necessities and hailed a cab back to her office.
She needed that phone number.
5
“Hey, Miss,” the cab driver piped up, glancing at Madison in the rearview mirror. “You got a jealous boyfriend or somethin’?”
Madison frowned and leaned forward, unclear as to what the cabbie meant. “No.” That was an understatement. As if she’d even been on a date in the last six months.
“That black SUV’s been behind us ever since I picked you up at your apartment.”
Madison’s eyes grew round and she sank lower in the seat, heart pounding. Images of the latest NYC headline crimes flashed through her mind. She didn’t want to be another statistic. Thinking she would surely throw up, Madison fought back panic and tried to breathe.
Suddenly, a shot echoed through the night. Madison jumped. A second shot followed. Madison’s heart jammed into her throat. She squeezed her eyes closed and prepared for the worst. When nothing happened, she forced her eyes open and turned to look out the back window. A glimpse of the SUV bouncing out of control across the median confirmed that the front tires had blown.
Or been shot out?
Not certain if she had been rescued or if her situation had just taken a turn for the worse, Madison gasped to the cabbie. ”Go! You can lose them. Turn left at the next block and then double back to the address I gave you.”
Never before had going to work been this stressful. Madison’s thought’s traveled back to a little rhyme her late grandma used to quote on bad days. “When all your plans go awry and all you want to do is cry, trust in God; He’ll see you through, He always knows just what to do.”
Did He? She hoped somebody was in control. She and God had always possessed a fragile relationship. She asked for help when she needed it, and He provided. Madison didn’t want to bother Him with irrelevant details. He was busy, and so was she. Kind of like her real father.
However, in times like this…
Madison gulped. The cab pulled to a screeching halt in front of the doors to her office suite. Subtle.
Madison grabbed her bag and hurried out of the taxi, tossing the driver a bigger tip than originally planned. She thanked him over her shoulder as she ran inside the complex.
Madison unlocked the door to the suite and burst into her pr
ivate office. She slammed the door and locked it behind her. Should she shove a piece of furniture under the knob? She reached for the desk chair then stopped. This was silly. No one knew where she was.
She took a deep breath and then grabbed Carsten’s file, which was still on her desk where she had left it earlier. At the time, she had felt that shelving it would only confirm the fact that her favorite memory was once again just that—a memory shut out of her reality.
She flipped through the pages until she found Carsten’s cell number, circled in Shan’s purple ink. Then she grabbed the phone, punching in the number with shaky fingers. She waited. A glance at her watch confirmed the time. 9:30 p.m.
The German accent she had already come to adore picked up on the second ring. “Hallo.”
Madison froze. What should she say? She wasn’t sure why she had called in the first place; it was an act of pure instinct. She just craved safety, and for some unknown reason, Carsten represented that for her. The thought crossed her mind that it should be her father who represented that, but it wasn’t. It was Carsten.
Carsten cleared his throat. “Is anyone there?” His voice brimmed with impatience.
Madison realized she had been silent the whole time she was thinking of what to say. “Carsten, I’m scared,” she quickly blurted out.
She instantly bit her lip and regretted the words. A blush burned at the base of her neck. Not exactly the strong image she wanted to portray.
But right now, she didn’t feel strong. She closed her eyes, and her spirit fought to maintain hope that maybe Carsten could actually help her.
“Mein engel—is that you?”
Her breath caught in her throat at the nickname he had given her and she opened her eyes. “Yes, it’s Madison.”
“Maddie, what’s wrong?” Carsten’s concern came through the phone loud and clear, and Madison felt a warmth seep through her chilled bones. She had all but thrown him out on his foreign backside earlier that afternoon, and now here he was, with no hard feelings, no resentment, just concern.
Midnight Angel Page 3
