by Robin Janney
“Saves me the trouble,” said Les lightly.
“Thanks Dad.” Craig shook his head. Picking his plate up, he said, “If you get ahold of her, let her know I’ll arrange a flight for her as soon as I can talk to her. I’m going to my room.”
Les nodded. “Take a nap at some point, you look like shit.”
“I should,” he commented as he walked away. “That’s how I feel.”
“H e’s torn up, but he didn’t kill the other woman,” Stafford said as the elevator descended. The Moore’s lived higher than most in this building, but thankfully they didn’t live all the way at the top. Stafford wasn’t fond of elevators.
“I agree. I caught a glimpse of his shoe tread as they went in the bag,” Leila commented, shifting the bags in her hands. “They don’t look like what we found on the roof. Whoever was up there with the victim is a bigger shoe size.”
The pale-skinned man nodded as the elevator doors opened into the main lobby. Finally. “Yeah, I saw that too. He’s got issues with his momma though.”
Leila chuckled. “Stepmomma, you mean. Quick to point that out. They exchanged words while Dad was showing us out.”
“Doesn’t like her touching him. Gives Tim’s story more credence. He didn’t corroborate, but I think he would if pressed.” Stafford shook his head as they walked out into the rain that was beginning to fall outside the building. High above the buildings, thin streaks of lightning raced from cloud to cloud. “Sure do hope Harper and Lyndsey got everything off that roof before this rain started.”
“They should have.” Leila sounded confident. Walking up the block to their police issue car, the two stowed the evidence bags in the trunk. Shutting it, they climbed in the front. “Cute young wife like he’s got, I can’t see Moore trading her in for either Kathryn or his stepmother. Can’t rule it out completely, not without more evidence.”
Behind the wheel, Leila continued her thoughts as she shook rain off. “He offered his clothes quick.”
Stafford shrugged. “Swabbed his mouth without argument, too. And gave his prints. If he had something to hide, I think his father would have done more talking. Les was in his lawyer mode up there, so if he knew his son was hiding anything, I think he’d have pulled some lawyer stuff on us: tried to block us from gathering evidence, made us get a warrant, that kind of shit.”
His partner nodded. “Les believes his son.”
Stafford gave a light laugh. “You do too, Leila. Hell, so do I.”
“Doesn’t mean I won’t look at him deeper, see if he hired someone. He wouldn’t be the first rich kid to want to add more to his portfolio.” Leila shrugged, no doubt irritated at the morning traffic and the rain. “But this is the second case we’ve got with the Moore’s at the heart of it; we still haven’t found out who hired Les’ shooter, even with all the leads we’ve had so far. Something tells me we need to cross every ‘T’ and dot every ‘I’ with this case.”
Stafford laughed now. “We usually do anyway, especially when dealing with the upper crust. There’s no clear motive I can see for Moore to off Kathryn. He has to be smart enough to know he’d be our first suspect, even if he hired someone. Now, if his wife was here, I’d suspect her first before him.”
Leila smiled with one side of her mouth. “Did you get her number?”
“I did.”
“Try calling her. See if she’ll answer for us.”
Stafford pulled out his pad and smartphone. In short order, he was shaking his head and putting the phone away. “Nope.”
“We’ll keep trying, and we’ll need to verify that she’s at home in Montana and not here in the city somewhere.”
“And maybe check to see if there are any connections between the two cases?” Which they already had talked about already. What were the chances?
“My thoughts exactly.”
39
I t was midmorning by the time Angela reached her destination. It was one of their picnic spots; a large open space against a huge rock overlooking their ranch. The northern boundary of their property was just on the other side of this knoll. Hobbling Belle a distance away at the bottom of this slope of land, she hooked her safety helmet on the saddle before taking her backpack and feeding the remaining apples to her horse. Hiking the short distance uphill to the rock, she set the area up just like she was having a normal picnic.
And a poor picnic it was too, she thought grimly. She’d eaten two apples on the ride up here, before giving the rest to Belle. All that left her was the cookies, and the bottled water. Angela knew she’d have to start eating better soon, but her heart wasn’t in it today.
She sat on the blanket she’d spread out and for a long moment she just sat there motionless, hugging her knees to her chest. How had her relationship with her husband deteriorated so quickly? As much as she liked to believe it was just a result of Craig being so far away, the insecure part of her questioned it. Had things been alright before he left? She thought they had, but she was no longer sure.
She hadn’t been able to tell him about the stunt Sherry had pulled, or the memories with Michelle. Had that been the starting point? Angela didn’t understand why she had such a hard time telling him, not really. He’d always listened to her without judging before. Aside from the fact that Sherry was one of the few women her husband called a friend, she’d had no good reason. Just irrational fear.
Leaning up against the boulder they’d often picnicked beneath, Angela relaxed and let the tears come. She didn’t know why she had chosen to come here. Maybe she had wanted the good memories. So much love had been had here.
The only time Craig ever let her come into the woods without ranch hands following her was when he was with her. It had been often in the early days. Not so much recently. How many times had he covered her with his body here, pressing inside her with a burning passion? She loved his touch and faced with the possibility of a life without ever experiencing it again was depressing.
Again, she tried to distract herself from the pain she was experiencing. It was too sharp and too deep. She glanced at the sketchbook she had borrowed from her husband’s office weeks ago and frowned. Her sketching would have been easier if she’d gone to the actual location; she wasn’t good at sketching from memory like Craig was. After all, those few acres were where she wanted to build her dream. She had no talent at sketching, but she was able to manage a base idea for her husband to go from if he ever came home.
At this point, it was all rather moot. Like Angela had told Jared last night, Craig stood at his own crossroads now. She knew that. That part of her dream had been clear. Perhaps in actuality it was more of a fork in the road, rather than a true crossroads. But the point remained: her husband had choices he needed to make. Even Kevin had agreed with that much.
And it was far more complex than which woman he loved. God, if it had only been that simple. Katie was the path he had abandoned, from a life long ago. Craig might be regretting that choice. Angela was what? Just his wife?
Hardly.
She was fraught with impulsiveness, depression and insecurities. And irrational fear, she mustn’t forget that. She was the complicated path.
She and Katie also represented two different ways of life. Even though the two of them lived on this huge ranch, and to Angela it was an extravagant lifestyle, she suspected that to her husband it was a far simpler lifestyle than what he had grown up in. A lifestyle he was immersed in now. Judging from his and Katie’s attire in the pictures from the party, it was an especially lavish lifestyle. And Katie was a beautiful woman obviously accustomed to that lifestyle. She’d looked at home in that dress and those impossible shoes.
Angela couldn’t compete with that. It was beyond her. How could she compete with a bejeweled beauty? Ample breasts coupled with a slim waist and those short but shapely legs! And as for Angela, she was an underweight mental case! The images from the dream with the red sandy crossroads tormented her, the sick and crippled woman at whom Craig looked at with pity inste
ad of the love he used to have for the magnificent Angel.
Wiping the tears from her face, Angela knew she was being too hard on herself. Craig had always called her beautiful, though she suspected his heart colored his vision. Isn’t that how it was supposed to work? Love making even the homeliest person beautiful? What was his heart feeling now?
Did Craig still love her? Was he still angry with her? Had he cheated with Katie last night? The thought that he could be with another woman right now, even as she sat mooning over him made Angela sick to her stomach.
Beginning to pack her things back into her backpack, Angela’s stomach continued to churn despite having finished the cookies and a bottle of water. Dr. Ryan had said she was far enough along for morning sickness to start cropping up. So maybe it wasn’t her thoughts causing it to toss and turn, though they surely didn’t help. Maybe it was the baby growing inside of her causing her to toss her dinner the past few nights and not her tormented thoughts. Unlikely, but possible.
She had wanted to tell Craig last night. Had even thought of telling him in the voicemail message she’d left him. But she wanted her announcement to be a happy event, not emotional blackmail. If Craig was going to choose her and the life they’d started here, it was going to be based on his love for her and not from any sense of responsibility to the life he’d fathered inside of her.
Please, God, Angela made her way back down the sloping land to where Belle was hobbled and prayed silently. Please let him choose…
Choose who? What if she wasn’t making him happy anymore? Did she want a life with a man who didn’t truly want to be with her? A man who pined over what could have been? A man grown impatient with the invisible intangible torments his wife went through? A wife who didn’t even remember their wedding?
What if he chose Katie? Would Angela be able to disappear like she’d mentioned to her brother last night? Could she be petty enough to deprive Craig contact with the child growing within? Yes, she thought as she stumbled over a fallen branch, she could – and she would. Even if Everett had gotten rid of the trust fund, her birth father would bend over backwards to help her and would probably have to be talked out of killing the man she loved. Philip would try to convince her to forgive; he had raised her to forgive and give people second chances, so Angela knew it was out of the question to go to him with her current problem.
Thinking of forgiveness brought a worse scenario to mind. What if Craig had cheated, but regretted it and wanted to make up with his wife? Could Angela ‘kiss and make up’? It was bad enough to have the image of the other woman’s lips on her husband’s, how would she manage anything more?
Angela took a deep breath and gritted her teeth, quieting her frantic thoughts. She didn’t want to lose what little food she had in her stomach. If this was what being off her medicine was going to be like, it was going to be a long pregnancy. Extremely long! It would be easier if her husband was here, but she’d find some way to do it without him if she had to.
The truth was – she could ‘what if’ herself to death if she wasn’t careful. There wasn’t any point in worrying about any of this. Because at this point, his choice had already been made. The deed had been done. Or not. If she had just waited for her iPhone to charge before she left, odds were she’d already know. But she had rushed, needing to be alone because she was never alone anymore. Had needed the quiet of nature, had wanted to think and pray.
She sucked at both since coming out of the coma. She remembered enough of her experiences with prayer before then…sweet times of communion with the Savior she had once met in the field of daisies. She could never seem get to that place of peace and joy again.
Regardless of Craig’s decision, for her or Katie, Angela determined in her heart to forgive him and move on. Either way. Even if it turned out in Katie’s favor and Craig didn’t let her keep the home he’d built for her and she had to ask Everett for help. How that would burn her pride! But she loved her husband enough to let him walk away if it would bring him greater happiness. It would hurt, but she’d survive.
Somehow.
If Craig decided to stay with her…regardless of what was happening now in New York…she would do everything in her power to not complicate his life. She would take the new medicine like Pat wanted, she would even try hypnosis to see if she could recover more memories. Her husband deserved better.
Coming up to Belle, Angela smiled at her black beauty and said, “Hi girl.”
Belle whinnied in greeting, her head bobbing up and down. The horse pawed the ground with a hoof as if anxious to go.
The morose young woman ran her hand along the tall horse’s neck and leaned into her for a hug. All her resolutions to be brave dissolved, and she sobbed against the horse’s neck. Her honest prayer was muffled into the horse’s neck. “I just want him to come home! I just want him to love me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted!”
Belle lowered her head over Angela and wrapped one of her front legs around the sobbing woman. Returning the hug in this last moment of peace, the horse showed her love for her human.
A shot rang out, loud and close. Belle neighed as if in freight, rearing to her back feet. Dropping her backpack, Angela scrambled away from the frightened horse. Her tears were forgotten, and she attempted to calm her horse. And herself.
“Easy Belle, easy,” she said, calmer than she felt. She was as startled as Belle. As the horse settled, Angela scanned the surrounding forest.
Get out of here…now…
Battling her fear and obeying the familiar voice, Angela abandoned her backpack and climbed onto her horse without even putting her safety helmet back on. She crouched low over Belle’s neck, patting her side as she began to turn the horse toward home.
Another shot rang out, closer this time, and Angela gave Belle her head. Keeping her head low to her horse, the two flowed together. Through vines and branches, flying over streams and fallen timbers.
Angela didn’t know what was going on, and fear paralyzed her thoughts. She couldn’t even pray. She couldn’t see their path, Belle was galloping full speed and she could feel it jar every bone in her body. She was frightened for the life growing inside her and managed one brief prayer for her unborn child; Dr. Ryan had said absolutely no galloping or jumping.
Belle was moving faster than she ever had even in familiar terrain. And this wasn’t familiar terrain for the show horse who was only ever ridden in the corral through the courses their trainers had set up for them. She had chosen this horse for the trail ride because she’d needed her best friend today. All it would take was one unseen log, one unseen hole, one sudden dip in this rocky and hilly terrain…
Another shot rang out, and Angela was flying through the air as the animal screamed in pain and fell.
Having learned how to fall gracefully in karate did not help her much in this moment. Angela landed hard, rolling far too many times over the rocky ground. The wind knocked out of her, she couldn’t move for what felt like an eternity. Once she was able to inhale sharply, she took quick account of herself as her horse screamed in pain again.
Nothing felt broken, though she was seeing stars and Angela fervently hoped she hadn’t hit her head hard enough to cause another concussion. Forcing herself to move she crawled across the ground to Belle.
The frightened woman bit off the wail wanting to erupt from her. Now she understood why the last gunshot had caused Belle to fall. A bullet had torn into her horse’s shoulder. Training she’d forgotten was somehow second nature to her, and she was able to quiet her anxiety long enough to soothe the animal.
“Oh God, Belle. Belle.” Even without looking closer, Angela knew her horse was lost to her. Maybe if they’d been home, and the vet had been standing at their side, Belle might have stood a chance. Out here, miles from their actual home…her trembling hands weren’t even able to slow the bleeding, and she knew she was doing everything right.
The horse grew calm as she began to stroke the equine face, oblivious to the fresh tears
streaming down her face. Grieving deeply, wishing just once she didn’t feel so deeply when an animal was wounded, Angela whispered, “I’m so sorry Belle. There’s nothing I can do for you, I can’t even ease your pain…”
Belle snorted, blowing bloody foam from her mouth, and fixed her eyes on Angela.
And Angela stilled as a new sensation was forming in her, one she didn’t understand. Her heart froze at the unnatural glow in Belle’s eye.
You must go, Little Angel. You must run…
“No, oh God no…” she whispered, thinking her therapist must be right about her after all. “Now is not the time for a psychotic break!”
The horse snorted again, and Angela could have sworn she was being laughed at. No, Little Angel, my voice is very real. I am one of your Guardians, but this form is dying, and I must leave it.
“Belle?” Angela whispered, her fear beginning to mount again.
But one of my many names. I have had others and I will have new ones yet. Go, I cannot shield this area for much longer!
Angela became aware of a thrashing in the woods above her like someone was running through it. It didn’t sound close yet, but even she could tell that whatever or whoever it was, was coming closer and closer the longer she sat here.
“I’m sorry Belle…”
Run! Run Little Angel!
With a sob ripping out of her, Angela took off into the forest. She didn’t even stop when she heard her horse scream one last time, only to be silenced by another shot. Not knowing what else she could do, she obeyed her horse’s last wish: she ran.
N ikki Flynn cursed as she stood over the now dead horse. She hadn’t been aiming for it and hated having to kill the beautiful animal. She had spent the past few years practicing her aim for this moment and was pissed something had caused her to miss.
The morning had been windless, and remained windless…which is why the sudden gust strong enough to push her aim off scared her just a bit. But strange crap like that had been happening ever since she’d taken up with the New York woman. More so after her strange dream with Randy and the demon in it.
