Midnight Angel

by Betst St Amant

  She blinked, suddenly not as certain. Ridiculous. Why would someone rearrange her artwork?

  Madison brushed off the nervous feeling, and began removing her jewelry. Maybe Rita had been upstairs earlier, and switched the pictures around. Even as she thought it, Madison dismissed the idea. Rita didn’t care about artwork or anything decorative. Why would she move her things around? It didn’t make sense, as much as she wanted it to.

  Still thinking, she laid her bracelet and earrings on top of the dresser next to her hairbrush, and then reached back and started to unzip her dress.

  Madison froze and then pushed a hand against her mouth to ward off the impending shriek. She distinctly remembered thinking earlier that it was time for her to clean out her brush again. The hairbrush lying on the dresser was free of hair.

  “Carsten!” She screamed as she fled the room and began descending the stairs, her damp dress flapping open in the back as she ran. “Carsten!”

  He sprang out of the kitchen at her cry, and took the stairs two at a time to meet her. He grabbed her arms. “What’s wrong? Is someone there?” He pushed her against the wall out of his way and continued climbing before he received an answer, his hand already on the gun he had tucked into the back of his dress pants.

  Madison’s eyes rounded. Since when does he carry a gun?

  Suddenly, nothing made sense. The room spun. She sank to a sitting position on the stairs. Was this a dream? The whole mood of the night was ruined. There were too many questions. And no answers.

  She stared aimlessly as water dripped from the ends of her hair, forming a tiny puddle on her knee. Her fairytale had just taken a horrible turn.

  Carsten. With a gun. She closed her eyes.

  “What’s going on?”

  Madison opened her eyes to see Rita hurrying down the hall from the direction of her bedroom. She came to an abrupt stop in the living room. “I thought I heard someone running…” She saw Madison crouched on the stairs, and rushed over to join her. “Are you hurt?” She seemed to notice Madison’s dress was halfway unzipped, and she frowned. “Are you—“ Her voice trailed off.

  “I got scared upstairs.” Madison’s lips turned up in a humorless half-smile. “Carsten is checking things out.” With a gun. She kept that thought to herself.

  Something hardened in Rita’s eyes, but before Madison could define it, Rita reached for her dress. “I’ll fix that for you.” She zipped up the back in a brisk motion. “There you go.”

  “Thank you.”

  Carsten appeared at the top of the stairs. “Everything is fine,” he announced with a hint of frustration. “What happened?” He tucked the revolver back behind him and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Madison looked down at her hands. What was she supposed to say? Someone broke into the house, rearranged my artwork and cleaned my personal grooming items? Had she imagined the entire thing?

  “I must have misunderstood.” She rose slowly to her feet. “I’m sorry,” she continued stiffly.

  “Maddie,” Carsten coaxed. “It’s all right to tell me what scared you. I want you to be safe. If something happened, anything at all that made you uneasy, I need to know what that was.”

  Madison shrugged, more than a little embarrassed. “Something just felt off.” She closed her eyes against the memory of the panicky feeling. “I thought maybe my pictures were switched around.”

  Carsten raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?” Relief rushed over his features.

  “Well, that, and my hairbrush was clean. I remember it being full of hair earlier. I know that’s gross, but I remember thinking that I needed to clean it out, but hadn’t gotten to it yet.”

  Carsten exchanged a look with Rita, his face tense. “Why don’t you ladies go to the kitchen and I’ll join you in a bit.” It was a command, not a suggestion. Madison had never heard him use that tone. She was more than willing to get away from it. She moved quickly down the stairs, Rita at her heels. What was going on? Did Rita have any answers? She knew something. That much was obvious.

  Madison decided to use the time alone to question the older woman. She somehow always seemed to know exactly what was going on around the ranch. Madison was surprised that Rita hadn’t noticed anything odd upstairs earlier in the evening.

  Or had she?

  “Were you home the whole time that Carsten and I were out?” Madison tried to keep her voice sounding relaxed, even while her body tensed tighter and tighter. She hid her clenched fists in her lap.

  Rita pulled out the barstool next to Madison, handing her a clean dishrag. “You might want to dry off a little. You must be freezing.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, I was home tonight, but I was in my room most of the evening. I took a bath, and then began watching a movie on television. I think I dozed off for a little while. I never heard a thing from upstairs.”

  Madison frowned, squeezing the dampness from her hair with the towel. “Maybe my imagination was just running wild. I could have been mistaken. Maybe I did move the picture and clean my brush, and I just don’t remember.”

  Rita kept silent, an unusual decision for the outgoing woman. She looked as if she was trying her best not to say something.

  Madison pursed her lips and tossed the rag onto the counter. “Are you—”She was interrupted by Carsten entering the kitchen.

  “I’m almost through checking the house. I wanted to make sure you were all right.” The words were spoken to both of them, but his eyes stared straight into Madison’s. She ducked her head, still unsure of how she was feeling. That gun had changed so many things. She’d realized this was a ranch, but wouldn’t that mean shotguns and rifles? Not pistols.

  What else did she not know about Carsten?

  She needed answers. Now. She turned back to Rita.

  “How about some tea?” Rita put on a bright smile and began rummaging through the pantry. “That will calm us right down. I do love a good cup of strong tea when I need to relax.” She turned on the faucet to fill the kettle as Carsten exited the room.

  “Rita.” Madison leaned forward, resting her elbows against the counter, trying to get the woman’s attention.

  Rita glanced over her shoulder and then pretended not to have heard.

  “Rita!” Madison didn’t mean to raise her voice, but her patience was rapidly approaching its limit.

  “Oh, all right.” Rita turned on the fire under the kettle and faced Madison with a huff. “I do know more than I’m saying, and what I am saying is that you need to talk to Carsten before you hear anything from me. And that’s all I’m gonna say.” She took a deep breath.

  Madison couldn’t help but grin at Rita speaking so flustered. “I’m sorry to push. I just hate secrets.”

  Rita mumbled something under her breath, and Madison decided this wasn’t the best time to ask her to repeat it.

  She needed at least one answer. “Why was he carrying a gun?” Madison lowered her voice. Carsten might be within earshot. But Rita kept her back to Madison, and didn’t answer. Was that part of what she refused to discuss? Madison blew out a frustrated breath. Had everyone gone crazy?

  Carsten came back inside the kitchen, squelching her vain attempts to gather information. “We’re clear,” he stated. He dropped onto the vacated barstool beside Madison and leaned on top of the counter, resting his face in his palms. He rubbed his hands roughly across his forehead, and then lifted his gaze to meet that of the women.

  “Tea?” Rita held up a glass, her answer to the world’s problems.

  Carsten shook his head. “I suppose we should talk.” His gaze met Madison’s gravely.

  “Living room?” He stood and gestured in the direction of the den. Madison followed reluctantly.

  Just minutes ago, she was practically floating, feeling free as a bird and certain her destiny had caught up with her. Now, each step felt as if she were edging closer to the gallows. Not toward her own death, but rather to the death of the relationship forming so delicately between her and Carsten.


  17

  Madison sank into the corner of the couch and tucked her feet underneath her. She was still wearing the dress she had gone out in, and she tugged at the hem to cover her knees. The magic of the dress, and the whole evening, had disappeared. All that lingered was the remnants of fear and the imminent sense of peril that Madison couldn’t shake.

  Carsten reached over and draped a down blanket over her shoulders. This time, his touch didn’t bring the measure of safety it usually did. He must have sensed it too, because he moved to sit on the hearth of the fireplace, rather than on the couch near her.

  She couldn’t decide if that bothered her.

  “Are you all right, Maddie?”

  The question was so soft that Madison wasn’t even certain he had asked it. He appeared to be waiting for a response, though. “I’m fine. I mean, physically, I’m OK.” She adjusted the blanket, wrapping it more securely around her body, wishing it could do a better job of hiding her.

  “But not emotionally.” Carsten finished her thought. He sighed. “That’s my fault. I know you saw the gun. I am sorry about that.”

  Madison nodded, not trusting the words that might slip out. She didn’t like guns. Although she’d never had a bad experience with one, she’d never felt comfortable in their presence. But Carsten couldn’t have known that, and she didn’t blame him for it—especially if he had been attempting to protect her from all this madness.

  But the question of why he had a gun still remained, and lurked like an elephant in the corner of the room

  “I like to be prepared,” Carsten began slowly, as if choosing his words carefully, too.

  Why would he need to if he wasn’t hiding something? Madison squeezed her eyes shut. She hated the level of distrust she now had toward Carsten. How much did she really know about this man, anyway?

  Except that he was ridiculously romantic and an amazing kisser. Facts that were great by moonlight but not so much in the stark light of reality

  “I didn’t realize it would bother you so much,” he continued. ”Now, I know. I’ll make sure you don’t see it again.”

  “Then that means you plan on carrying it again.” Madison couldn’t hide the frustration in her voice, even though she couldn’t fully understand where it was coming from. Was the gun really the issue here?

  She was afraid to answer that, afraid of what probing deeper would mean—even to herself.

  Carsten took a deep breath. “Madison, I have to keep you safe. You’re aware that things weren’t at their best when you left New York. I just want to be ready in case the worst were to happen.”

  “But it was in your suit pants! Did you have it with you throughout our entire date?” She swallowed against the lump in her throat, hating the sharp edge of her tone but unable to rein it in. None of this made sense.

  “Yes, I did. I keep it with me at all times.”

  It wasn’t about the gun. She couldn’t deny it anymore. The gun she could adjust to.

  It was how it had changed Carsten right before her eyes that she couldn’t reconcile with. She didn’t know him anymore.

  Silence strained between them.

  Then Carsten’s previous words sank in and Madison narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean by ‘the worst’? What do you think is going to happen out here?” She raised her chin, refusing to let the panic show. But her hands grew sweaty, and she gripped the blanket tighter. “I thought you said coming here would make me safe.”

  Even as the words left her mouth, she realized the truth. There was no safe. Safe was an illusion.

  He stood and began to pace in front of the fireplace. “I didn’t want to ever have this conversation.” His own frustration was evident. “But maybe you should know the truth.”

  “Yeah, maybe I should.” The sarcasm was a better blanket to hide behind than the down one covering her shoulders. She shrugged out of it, her anger warming her more thoroughly than the quilt ever could.

  If she could just stay angry, maybe the hurt would keep its distance.

  Carsten paused, bracing one arm against the mantle. Her stomach pitched.. What could possibly be that bad? What didn’t she know?

  In a sudden rush of words, the truth emerged. “Your father called and hired me to protect you the night of the break-in at your apartment. I’m your official guardian, Madison.”

  The room dipped; Carsten’s words swirled between them but refused to land long enough to comprehend. She reached desperately for one. Protect. Guardian? Her dad? How did he know her dad?

  “I—I don’t understand.” Madison hated herself for stammering. She needed control. She needed to be in charge. She squared her shoulders but the helplessness of the situation threatened to overwhelm her.

  Anxious, she clung to the remnants of her anger, fanning the flames afresh. Her father had hired Carsten?

  “Hired you? You mean, all of this—“ She gestured between them. It was fake. And his feelings for her…

  A knot settled in her throat and refused to budge “All of—” She couldn’t force the word “us” from her lips.

  “No. It didn’t start out that way.” Carsten’s eyes pleaded with her. He held out his hand. “Listen, Maddie—“

  “Don’t call me Maddie.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she hated that more than the hurt threatening to crack her heart in half “You lied to me.” She stood abruptly.

  “Don’t go.” Carsten reached out to stop her, but pulled his hand back as she jerked out of his reach.

  “Why? Because it’s not safe?” The word shot like a dart from her tongue. “You might be paid to be around me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make a decision to go upstairs on my own.” She was a grown woman, and while her father never saw her that way, she thought Carsten had.

  Her hands shook, and she clenched them into fists to stop the trembling. “I’m used to betrayal from my father. He was never around and never knew I existed growing up.” She laughed, a short, hard laugh devoid of any humor. “I guess that’s why he never realized that I have.”

  Carsten flinched, reaching for her again before thinking better of it and dropping his arm to his side. “I didn’t want it to come to this, Madison.”

  “So you wish you had kept lying?” How had she possibly thought she was in love with this man? He was no better than her father was. In fact, he was worse.

  Her heart throbbed a protest, but she couldn’t stop long enough to address it. If she did, she’d crack into a thousand pieces.

  Carsten sighed. “No, that’s not it either.” He paused. “Tell me something.” He moved toward her, grasping her hands firmly in his. This time, he didn’t let go when she tried to pull away.

  “Let me go!” She struggled harder, and the fact that she couldn’t wrench free just made her madder. Was she truly as weak and incapable as her father believed her to be? As Carsten now believed her to be? Tears filled her eyes.

  Carsten loosened his grip, but didn’t let go completely. “Just answer one question, Madison.”

  “What?” She quit fighting, but wouldn’t meet his gaze. Her lip quivered, and she bit down on it until she tasted metal. Blood. But she wouldn’t break down and cry. Not in front of him. Not until she was back in her room.

  At this point, facing down an unknown intruder possibly lurking upstairs sounded like a much better alternative to Carsten’s lies.

  “Why was it all right for me to protect you before? Why wasn’t it a problem for you to cry on my shoulder and share your fears with me?” He gently shook her hands, and she darted a glimpse into his eyes just long enough to regret it. “You already trusted me to keep you safe. What changed, Maddie? Why was it fine then, but not now?”

  Easy. This time, her gaze locked into his and a strength she didn’t know she had flooded her weary veins.. “Because then, I thought it came from your heart. Not from my father’s checkbook.”

  She yanked her hands free, and felt her heart tear away from him in the same fluid motion.

  18r />
  Madison paced in her room. She needed air. She needed space. But mostly, she needed to get far away from Carsten.

  She walked to the window and raised the pane, staring out into the night. A floodlight lit the backyard, and she could see the silhouettes of the horses in the paddock. One lifted its head and whinnied, a chilling sound in the darkness. The storm clouds were rolling by, bringing a brisk wind that lifted Madison’s hair and offered a feeble attempt to calm the fire that still raged in her heart.

  She turned her face up to the wind and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She knew how the horse felt. She too, wanted—no, longed—for her freedom. She was so tired of being manipulated. She felt just like the animal inside the fence. “You can jump,” she whispered to the stallion. “Just jump the fence, and you’re home free.”

  Madison rested her elbows on the windowsill, realizing that she could take her own advice. Nothing was physically holding her here. She had originally thought she would be safe on the ranch, but obviously not. If someone had broken into her room, they could get to her anywhere. The thought made the hair on her arms rise. She shut the window with a bang and locked it, letting the curtains fall back into place.

  A knock sounded on the closed guest room door. Her heart skipped a beat. She pressed a hand against her chest. “Sorry, I’m indecent!” It was mostly a lie, but she wasn’t up to talking to anyone, not even to Rita.

  Silence was her only response. She tiptoed to the door and got down on her hands and knees, peering underneath. She could just make out the black dress shoes Carsten still wore from their date.

  As he walked away, she closed her eyes tightly, forcing back the image of how handsome he had looked earlier in the evening. It had all gone so terribly wrong. Why couldn’t the date have ended at that perfect moment by the front door? With that perfect kiss?

  Her eyes opened abruptly. Their fairy tale was over. There would be no happy ending. Only shattered hearts, broken promises, unfulfilled dreams.