Tin Angel

by Raine English

  His brow furrowed, and his skin paled. She looked away, afraid if she saw the pain in his eyes for a second longer, she wouldn’t be able to go on.

  “I’m not who you think I am,” she blurted. She wanted to run to him, throw her arms around him, and tell him she wasn’t the evil, despicable person he must think her to be. She knew he wouldn’t accept her embrace, though, and she couldn’t bear it if he pushed her away.

  “I’m Alice.” She sat on the edge of the sofa, her hands clenched tightly together. She didn’t know how she got the words out, but she had, and then the whole incredible story bubbled from her lips.

  “A miracle’s happened. I’ve been given another chance to live my life… The one I should have lived after Tom died. In fact, this was all his idea.” She paused a moment, half expecting him to say something…anything…but he stood there rigidly as if he’d been turned to stone.

  She ran her tongue over her dry lips and cleared her throat, then pressed on. “The tin angel, the tree topper Tom gave me, is a real angel.” She knew she sounded insane, but it was too late to worry about that now. She had no choice. She had to tell him the entire story and hope when she was done, she’d made him believe her. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s missing. Well, not missing as in stolen; missing as in it only appears when I need advice.”

  Jack still hadn’t moved. In fact, she was getting worried that he might keel over—his skin was such a sickly shade of gray—but she had to finish. “This miracle has a condition. I’ve only been given until the New Year to find true love or…” Her voice trailed off. This was the toughest part—telling him that she might only have one more day to live; however, she gathered her strength. “If by tomorrow night at midnight, I haven’t found true love, I’ll be transformed back to ninety…” She lowered her voice to barely more than a whisper, “And I’ll die.”

  She was surprised at the relief she felt at having finally told him everything. “I know it sounds incredible, but I swear to you, it’s the truth.” She waited expectantly for his response.

  He blinked, then narrowed his eyes as if trying to get a better look at her. She couldn’t read his expression, his emotions were so guarded. Slowly he moved toward her, until he came to stand before her. He placed his hands on her knees and leaned into her, staring directly into her eyes.

  “See, Jack, it really is me.”

  “Just how big a fool do you think I am?” His tone was as cold as the wind whistling through the windowpanes. He backed away from her, never taking his eyes from her face.

  “You’re no fool.”

  He spoke over her. “I asked for the truth. I prayed that you’d open up to me, trust me enough. But instead you tell me some crazy fairy tale that a five-year-old would have trouble believing.”

  By the time he reached the doorway, his voice had risen enough to send Jasper scurrying from the room.

  “Wait, please!” Alice sprang from the sofa and rushed over to the piano. “At least let me prove to you that I am telling the truth.” Her fingers flew over the keys, flawlessly playing Rachmaninoff’s “Rhapsody.” He knew that piece was Alice’s favorite.

  His eyes were veiled with what appeared to be regret. “The only thing that proves is that I really was a fool…to have fallen in love with you.”

  The quiet stillness he left her with was far more final than if he’d slammed the door on his way out. She laid her hands flat against the cool ivory keys and wished she could take back every word. Was this how her life was to end? Miserable and alone?

  She glanced up at the top of the Christmas tree, her vision blurred by tears, to where the tin angel used to sit. “Why did you grant me this miracle, give me this short taste of happiness and love, only to have it ripped so cruelly from me?” she sobbed.

  She sat there till her body and mind went numb, but she didn’t get an answer to her plea. The tin angel never appeared.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jack leaned against the headboard. He hadn’t even bothered to remove his boots before climbing onto the bed. The snow packed on his soles from the trek around the house started to melt, dripping onto his comforter. He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything.

  How could he have been so stupid as to fall in love with Ally? He’d kept telling himself over and over, be careful. Don’t lose your heart. Well, a lot of good that had done. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the picture of her that haunted him, but he couldn’t erase the memory of her touch or the intoxicating fragrance of her perfume. In that moment, he wanted to feel her soft body next to his and to drink the sweet nectar of her kisses.

  “Damn you,” he spat, “not only are you dishonest, but you’re a witch too. I fell under your spell, and now I’m paying for it with my heart.”

  The telephone’s ringing interrupted his thoughts. He was in no mood to talk to anyone, but he strained to hear the caller’s message. Despite everything, he half hoped it was Ally.

  “Jack, love, are you there?” Bethany’s smooth voice flowed from the answering machine. “I hope you are and that you’re listening to this. Forget what I said about needing more time. I’ve got a fabulous idea. Since I can’t be there with you, why don’t you come to Boston and be with me? I’ll give you a New Year’s Eve you won’t forget.” She made a noise that sounded like a growl, then hung up.

  If he was smart, that was exactly what he’d do—leave this town and that woman downstairs, whoever she might be, far behind. He should spend a night with Bethany having wild, incredible sex and forget about Ally and love. Both brought nothing but trouble.

  He rolled onto his side and turned off the Tiffany-style lamp on his nightstand. The streetlight shining in through his window kept the room aglow. He squeezed his eyes shut, too drained to even pull the window shade.

  After what seemed like hours, he drifted into an uneasy sleep and woke at six a.m. still wearing his clothes from the night before. He undressed and padded toward the shower.

  As the water ran over him, his thoughts drifted back to Ally. His plan had failed miserably. She not only didn’t confide in him, she must think him an idiot to have fed him that crazy tin angel story.

  He wanted to hate her, but he couldn’t. How could he have fallen so hard for a woman he knew nothing about? He didn’t even know her real name. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. What if that part of her story had been true? What if Ally Hart really was her name, and what if she really was from Syracuse? Then maybe that was where he’d find Alice.

  He knew he was probably grasping at straws. He should call Pastor Riley and the police, but he was going to get to the bottom of this once and for all, and the only way to do that was to go to New York.

  * * *

  Alice hung up the phone when Jack’s answering machine picked up. She’d already left three messages. If he would just talk to her, she’d find a way to make him believe her.

  Tired and cranky from a night spent tossing and turning, she was in no mood to be ignored. She slipped on her coat, then took the spare key from the hall table. If Jack wouldn’t pick up his phone, he’d darn better answer his door, or she’d have no choice but to let herself in.

  I’m not giving up on you, Jack Billings, even if you have given up on me.

  She stomped through the snow to the back of the house and raced up the stairs to his apartment. She banged on the door. “Open up, Jack, or I’m coming in.” She waited a few moments, then put her ear to the door, hoping to hear the sound of his footsteps. But all was quiet. She knocked again, waited, then stuck her key in the lock.

  “I’ve given you fair warning. Now I’m coming in.” In case he’d been in the shower and not able to hear her banging, she opened the door slowly. An image of him wearing nothing but a towel filtered behind her eyelids.

  “Hello,” she called, before entering the dark apartment. The lingering scent of deodorant soap hung in the air. He couldn’t have left that long ago, but for where?

  She walked into the living room
and sank onto the sofa. Defeat sagged her shoulders. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed quietly. The telephone’s ringing broke through her misery, and she looked up, her cheeks wet with tears. Jack’s sexy voice pierced her heart as she listened to his greeting play from the answering machine. After the beep, she heard a woman’s voice.

  “Jack, I hope you took my advice and decided to spend the New Year with me. If you’re not here soon, though, I’ll have to make other plans.” The annoying drone that was Bethany’s call disconnecting seemed to go on forever before the answering machine clicked off.

  Alice wanted to scream in frustration. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t go back with that woman. Not out of anger. Not when he loved her… And she loved him. She might only have one day left, but, by golly, she was going to tell him what he meant to her before it was too late. She grabbed the phone and dialed Silvercreek Cab Company.

  * * *

  Alice paid the taxi driver, offering him a hefty tip. She’d been a nervous wreck the entire trip to Boston. A wet snow was falling, glazing the road, and her trip had taken a lot longer than expected. But she wasn’t complaining. She was thankful she’d gotten to Chesterfield Hall safely.

  She stared at the large brick buildings in front of her, having no idea which one housed the dean’s office. As she walked toward the closest one, a student with an armful of books passed through its front doors.

  “Excuse me,” Alice said, “do you know where I can find Dr. Snow?”

  The girl held her stack steady by resting her chin on the top book. “Next building over to your left. His is the first office. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you.” Alice hurried along the sidewalk. She shivered as the cold wet snowflakes hit her face. She walked up the four concrete steps, taking care not to slip. Once inside, she blew into her frozen hands, then rubbed them warm.

  She was taking a chance coming here. Dr. Snow might not be in his office, and, even if he was, there was no guarantee he’d give her Bethany’s address, but it was the only hope she had of finding Jack. Getting this far hadn’t been hard. Jack had mentioned his former employer many times, but finding Bethany’s house was the tough part.

  She checked her appearance in the reflection of a large glass showcase. Using her fingers like a comb, she smoothed the snarls from her windblown hair, then straightened the waistband on her pants.

  Her heels clicked loudly over the highly polished floor as she walked toward the office. Her fingers trembled slightly, and she clasped them together. What was she doing here? This was crazy, chasing after Jack like some lovesick fool. She never would have had the courage to do this before. Part of her was proud that she’d overcome her fear to go after what she wanted, and the other part wanted to go home.

  Nervously, she knocked on the dean’s office door. At first she thought no one was in there, but as she was about to leave, a man’s deep baritone voice said, “Come in.”

  She took small, tentative steps forward, her gaze scanning the room for the man who’d spoken. When she reached the dean’s desk, his huge leather chair spun around. A distinguished gentleman with shiny silver hair and the same pale blue eyes as Bethany eyed her from head to toe.

  Taken back by the intensity of his gaze, she squared her shoulders, pulling herself up to her full imposing height. “Dr. Snow?”

  “Have we met befah?” he asked, his Boston accent pronounced.

  “I’m Ally Hart.”

  He reached across the desk to shake her hand, then said, “Have a seat and tell me what I can do for you.”

  She sank into the chair behind her and returned his attentive gaze. “I’m not a student here. I’m looking for your daughter. I was hoping you’d give me her address.”

  “And why should I do that?” His friendly demeanor was replaced with a suspicious gleam in his eyes. He tapped a silver pencil on the desk while he watched her.

  She should have known this wasn’t going to be easy. She thought for a moment, trying to figure out her best approach. In crossing her leg she kicked over her handbag, spilling its contents out onto the floor. Not that she carried much with her: a wallet, mirror, some face powder and lipstick, but it still took her a few moments to gather her things and shove them back into her bag.

  “Sorry,” she said looking up, her face burning with embarrassment. She followed the direction of the dean’s gaze and realized her scoop-neck sweater had slipped down enough to expose the lace trim on her bra.

  “I-I’ve come a long way,” she said, adjusting her neckline and sitting straight in the chair. “From Connecticut,” she continued, “and if I don’t find her…”

  He gave his pencil one more loud rap, then sprang from his chair to come stand beside her. “You’re one of Bethany’s old college chummies, come to ring in the New Year. I thought you looked a tad familiar.” He scribbled an address on a piece of notepaper and pressed it into her palm. “It’s not far from here. Just one block north.”

  “Thank you.” She shook his hand again, then quickly left the office.

  Once outside, she took a deep breath, inhaling the frigid air. She pulled up her jacket collar tightly around her neck, then headed across the school campus toward the lovely tree-lined road. She stepped onto the cobblestone street and followed Dr. Snow’s directions to Bethany’s house, a beautiful brownstone.

  Was she doing the right thing coming here? What if Jack wouldn’t see her? Or worse, slammed the door in her face. The temptation to turn around and go home was growing stronger by the minute. Her knees began to shake, not only out of fear, but from the raw winter cold. She needed to do something. She couldn’t just stand there or she’d freeze to death. Don’t chicken out now, Alice. Go do what you came here to do. It’s your one and only chance. If you don’t, you’ll never see Jack again, and he’ll never know that you loved him.

  With courage she didn’t know she possessed, she walked up to the front door and gave it a strong knock. The door opened, revealing a muscular, bare-chested man…and it wasn’t Jack. Tanned and gorgeous, with ripples in places she hadn’t known existed, the statuesque man stepped aside so she could come in.

  Perspiration glistened like liquid gold on his flawless skin. She felt awkward and uncomfortable by his raw sensuality. Her cheeks burned. “Is Bethany home?”

  “I haven’t been working up this sweat alone,” he said with a wink.

  At that moment, Bethany came up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed the back of his neck before she spotted Alice standing in the doorway. “Isn’t this a surprise? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m looking for Jack. I thought he might be with you, but I can see that’s not the case.” Her gaze quickly flicked over Adonis, then back to Bethany.

  “That’s right,” Bethany said coldly. “I’m through throwing myself at him. As you can see, I’ve moved on.” She tilted her head and kissed her new lover’s eager mouth. “I suggest you do the same. Why, if you don’t know where Jack is, maybe you should take the hint and go home. He might not want to be found.”

  Alice’s back stiffened, and she could feel the blood drain from her face. “I need a cab.”

  “Come on, I’ll call you one.” Bethany stepped around her to close the door, then headed into a large room on the right. “You can wait in here by the fire until your ride arrives.”

  The room was an elegant mix of old and new. Sleek leather furniture paired with centuries old antiques. Alice sank onto a chair close to the marble fireplace, but the warmth of the flames couldn’t melt her chilled heart. Hope of ever seeing Jack again had died. Her time was almost up and she was alone, just as she’d been before her miracle transformation. There was nothing for her to do now, but take Bethany’s advice and go home. A flicker of hope emerged. Could that be where Jack was? Could he be home now?

  * * *

  Jack left city hall with a heavy heart. This trip to Syracuse had been a waste of time. He hadn’t discovered a speck of information on any membe
r of the Hart family. He’d been lucky enough to engage the help of a clerk, but there was nothing showing that Ally had ever lived there. So that had been a lie. Everything she’d told him had been a lie. She wasn’t from Syracuse. Who knew where she was from or who she really was. She might not even be related to Alice. And just where the heck was Alice?

  How could he have been such a poor judge of character? The girl had completely conned him. The thought that he could be one of many who had fallen victim to her made his stomach churn, and for a second, he thought he might be sick.

  The only thing left to do was to call the police and tell them everything he knew. The thought of Ally in handcuffs presented a depressing picture, though. He couldn’t shake free the memory of her kisses…or the way her eyes deepened to a smoldering smoky gray when he touched her. Had her desire for him been a lie too? She couldn’t fake that, could she? No, her feelings for him had to have been real. At least he wanted to believe they were.

  He stepped carefully over a patch of ice as he headed toward his car. Against all logic, he found himself thinking of a good criminal defense attorney for Ally. John Gregory came to mind. He was one of the best around.

  Jack caught himself before those kinds of thoughts went any further. This craziness had to stop. He pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and started to dial the Silvercreek police, but the bitter taste of betrayal came into his mouth. He couldn’t make that call. He couldn’t do that to Ally. Not yet.

  Jack hung up, disgusted with himself. He shoved the phone back in his pocket and continued across the parking lot. When he reached his Acura, he realized he didn’t know where he was going. Dusk had settled in. He was hungry and tired, and it was New Year’s Eve. The long trip back to Connecticut would have to wait until morning. What he needed was a hotel room and a bottle of scotch.