Angel in Training (The Louisiangel Series, Book One)

by C. L. Coffey

  She looked up at me, tears streaming down her face. “How do you know?” she moaned.

  “You’re just going to have to trust me,” I sighed. I don’t know why, but she nodded.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The Psychic

  We waited until someone from Victim Support arrived to take our place and take them into the morgue. After making sure the door had been locked behind them, I followed Joshua back to the car and sank in, exhausted. I can honestly say I would rather flog myself to death on the treadmill than ever go through that again.

  “You want to get something to eat?” Joshua asked me quietly.

  “I’m not sure how hungry I feel,” I replied, shaking my head.

  He pursed his lips and pulled away, but instead of taking the turn to lead us back to the causeway, he went in the opposite direction.

  “Where are we going now?” I asked him wearily.

  “To get some food.”

  “But I said I wasn’t hungry,” I sighed.

  Joshua firmly shook his head. “You said you weren’t sure, and trust me, after that, you will appreciate a very big steak.”

  “Whatever,” I half agreed, keeping my attention on the world outside the car. Despite living here for so long, I had never really explored this side of the lake all that much. In fact, as he turned off the main roads and onto the back ones, I realized that I had no real idea of where we were.

  I was too tired to argue anymore though. I just sat back and watched the cars passing by. We drove for a while until he turned off down a dirt road, driving carefully over the uneven surface until we pulled up outside a structure that resembled a shed, named ‘Gator Al’s’. I turned and arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

  He tutted at me. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he chided, getting out of the car.

  I followed him into the shed to be greeted by the most enormous man I had ever seen – both up and out. “Josh, it’s been a while.”

  “You got room for two, Al?” Joshua asked, gesturing around the half empty bar. Al laughed – a long, deep noise that had his belly wobbling at the effort. He indicated we should follow and led us through to a table at the back, by a window that overlooked the bayou behind.

  I sat down, examining my surroundings. Surprisingly it was much bigger on the inside than it looked from out front. It looked like a redneck hunting lodge. There were dead animals turned into trophies, hanging all over the room, ranging from a deer head, raccoons, possums – right up to the twelve foot alligator hanging over the bar. There seemed to be about four or five different sets of furniture, which, like the floor, were covered in a thick layer of dirt, leaves and the occasional crawfish shell.

  “You’re turning your nose up and you haven’t even had the steak yet,” Joshua said, disapprovingly.

  I wrinkled my nose. “A steak from what?” I asked, eyeing the gator. “And for the record, if the kitchen is anything like the floor, I'm not eating.”

  “Just think of it as seasoning,” he grinned at me.

  Al returned carrying two glasses of murky looking water, along with two bottles of beer. He placed one of each in front of us. “It’ll be a few minutes,” he told us, before disappearing again.

  “What will be a few minutes?” I asked as I examined the water suspiciously.

  “Dinner,” Joshua announced, taking a sip of his beer. “If you’re going to look at the water like that, drink the beer.”

  I blinked. “I haven’t ordered anything.”

  Joshua shrugged at me. “Al has one meal. You don’t get a choice, and if you come to Gator Al’s, you come for the food. Drink up.”

  I gave the water a sniff before setting it down and pushing it away from me. “It looks like it came from out there,” I informed him, jabbing my thumb in the direction of the swamp outside.

  “It probably did,” Joshua agreed with a smirk, taking another swig of his beer. He pushed the other one towards me.

  “I don’t drink,” I informed him, pushing the beer next to the water. “Which I have told you before, although you had almost drunk a bar dry at the time. More to the point, I’m twenty, remember. Isn’t it a little irresponsible for an officer to be handing me alcohol? And aren’t you on duty?”

  “Who are you? The police?” he asked, rolling his eyes at me.

  “No, that would be you,” I retorted, holding my hand out, palm up. “And if you’re going to drink yourself stupid, at least give me the car keys.”

  In a blink of an eye, his bedroom eyes had made a reappearance. “You know, Al has a room he allows those who have had too much to drink to use.”

  “I am not spending the night here, with you,” I responded, curtly.

  “And still you play hard to get,” he sighed, somewhat melodramatically.

  “I'm not playing hard to get,” I informed him. “I'm playing not interested.” I stood up abruptly enough to send my chair screeching backwards and made to stomp out. I'd spotted a phone by the door and I was ready to call a cab – or even Michael.

  His hand grabbing mine stopped me. “You have really got to learn when I'm playing with you, darlin’,” he drawled. “At least try the steak before you start walking home.”

  I took a deep breath and counted to ten before I exhaled. This was going to end badly and I needed to get out of there before I did something I was going to regret. Instead I sat back down. “Fine.”

  “That’s better,” he smirked as I slid back down into my seat. I sighed and stared out the window, watching something break the surface of the water enough to cause a ripple. “What did you do in there?” Joshua asked me, quietly.

  I looked back to him with a frown. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “When you spoke to Mrs. Montgomery. She seemed to take comfort in what you said,” he said, thoughtfully.

  I brought my elbows to the table, resting my chin in my hands. “I don’t know how I did it,” I admitted. “But if she did take comfort in it, then I’m not going to complain.”

  “I wasn’t trying to criticize,” he hurriedly told me. “I just… I’ve had to deliver that news a few times now, and I’ve been with Leon a couple of times as well. Every time I’ve seen a person in hysterics, they have never come around from it so quickly. In fact, I’ve seen some where a doctor has had to be called to sedate them. What you did was… pretty impressive, however you did it.”

  “Oh,” I responded, slightly surprised. “Well I suppose I can do something right,” I added under my breath.

  “What do you mean by that?” he asked, curiously.

  I quickly shook my head. “I’m just not getting much right these days.” Thankfully I didn’t have to elaborate as Al arrived with two plates piled high with cheese and bacon topped mashed potatoes, sweet corn, and a steak that took up more than half of the enormous plate it was sat on.

  “Hey Al, have you got any cans of Coke?” Joshua asked before Al walked away.

  “Coke?” Al repeated in disbelief. “Seriously?”

  “It’s not for me,” Joshua informed him with a roll of his eyes, and nodded to me.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Al sighed, clearly displeased at the fact I wasn’t drinking what he had brought me.

  I ignored his retreating back and turned my attention to the food in front of me. There was enough on the plate that Joshua and I could probably have shared it. It also smelled delicious, much to my disappointment.

  “It won’t kill you, you know,” Joshua pointed out as he took the knife to his steak.

  I pulled a face. “Have you seen the kitchens to accurately assess that?”

  “I thought I was the one that had to worry about dying, considering you’re already dead?” Joshua asked with a smirk.

  I threw him an unimpressed look and took a small bite of the steak. It was good. Very good.

  “I told you so,” Joshua told me smugly, seeing the surprised look on my face.

  “So how many notifications have you had to g
ive?” I asked him, curious, after Al had returned with a can for me.

  Joshua shook his head and quickly swallowed his mouthful of food. “Nope. No shop talk when I’m eating. That’s the rule.”

  I returned to eating my meal in silence. The concept of a conversation not involving ‘work’ was alien to me. The furthest my imagination had gone certainly didn’t involve ‘talking’, I’ll be honest.

  “You’re blushing,” Joshua noted.

  “No I’m not,” I objected, almost choking on my food.

  Joshua laughed, his eyes sparkling. If I wasn’t blushing before, I was now. “So, Angel, what do you do in your free time?” he asked me.

  “I don’t really have any free time,” I told him, frowning as I considered it. “Technically, I’m on call all the time. I went out with a couple of angels,” I added as an afterthought. “But if I’m not with you, I’m training in some respect.”

  “Well, what did you do before you became an angel?” he asked.

  “Drinking and dancing,” I grinned. “Far too much of both. Otherwise, I was studying.”

  “Sounds like an enriching life,” he muttered, although he was smirking again.

  “I never said it was,” I pointed out. “But I was never the sporty type, I don’t read unless I have to, and I don’t write. I can’t play any instruments, I can’t sing – in fact, I’m tone deaf. Children can draw better than I can, and I don’t have any patience when it comes to collecting things. And what about you? What do you do?”

  “I read,” he told me, surprising me. I didn’t take him as a reader.

  “And?” I asked, waiting impatiently for him to continue.

  He shrugged at me. “That’s all you’re getting.”

  It might be all he was admitting to, but I had learned a few other things in the past couple of days, including the fact that he had a thing for cars. His was immaculate and I had caught his eyes following the cars he liked as they drove past. “Alright, when is your birthday?”

  “Not for a couple of months,” he told me, cryptically.

  I rolled my eyes. “If you’re not going to talk ‘shop’, at least make some effort on the other topics,” I instructed him before resuming eating, grumpily. He was somewhat infuriating.

  There were a few moments of silence while we both attacked what sat on our plates. Then he sat back, washed down what he had eaten with that swamp water, and cocked his head. “I always knew I was going to be a cop. My daddy was a cop, so was his daddy and his daddy. I never intended on being a detective though.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  For a moment, I thought that was all I was going to get. Then he responded. “I wanted to work on the front line – catch the bad guys without getting caught up in the paperwork.”

  “So what changed?”

  He shrugged. “Beth was always telling me I could help more when I was a detective.” He sighed when he registered my blank look. “Beth was my sister. After Katrina, things changed. Maggie was having problems with the insurance and the builders who ripped her off – I needed more money to help her out, and the hours helped too. When Asmodeus offered me the chance of getting on this accelerated detective program, I accepted.”

  When he continued eating, I knew he wasn’t going to share anymore. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do,” I admitted, quietly. “When I told Maggie I was still trying to find my way, it wasn’t far from the truth. If I wasn’t doing this, I still don’t know what I would have been doing, or what I was going to do.”

  He nodded. “I wouldn’t know what else I would do if I wasn’t doing this.” He paused, frowning. “And for the record, I don’t drink that much.” When I nearly choked on my food, he rolled his eyes. “On the anniversary of Katrina, I have a couple of drinks for my sister, that’s all.”

  A couple? There had certainly been more than a couple of empty bottles on the table when I had found him in The Salty Dog, and I also had a suspicion that I’d know when Beth’s birthday was, because I would find him back in a bar having another couple.

  I kept my mouth shut. For the rest of the meal, (which I had to reluctantly admit to Joshua was the best steak I’d ever eaten, followed by a reluctant thank you for making me eat – both of which kept a smug grin on his face all the way back to New Orleans), conversation was limited to trivial things like the weather and how the Saints were going to do this season. Regardless, it had made me feel slightly more at ease with everything. Then he threw another wrench into the works.

  “Look,” he said suddenly, once again breaking me free from my own thoughts. “I'm not saying I believe in heaven and hell, and angels and demons, and I'm not saying I'm ever going to believe any of that. But you’re alright.”

  I looked up at him, wondering where he was going with that statement.

  He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Just don’t go getting another charge just yet.”

  I watched him for a moment. He seemed sincere, and yet, with everything he did, he would contradict it as soon as I started believing him. Hell, he’d just contradicted himself then – I don’t believe in angels, but I don’t want you to go?

  “Fine,” I agreed. “However, you have got to stop saying you don’t believe in angels then using it against me.”

  “When have I done that?” he asked me, incredulously.

  “Oh, I don’t know – yesterday?” I suggested. “Five minutes after yelling at me that you didn’t believe in angels, you were asking me to protect you from skin cancer?”

  He had the decency to nod in agreement with me. “Fine.”

  “And you have got to stop using your bedroom eyes on me,” I added, hurriedly.

  This caused him to turn and smirk at me. “Bedroom eyes?”

  “Yes,” I told him, feeling my face heat up. “You’re doing it now. That thing you do with your eyes makes me feel like you’re undressing me. Stop it. And stop with all the flirty comments. The only kind of relationship we are ever going to have is a professional one.”

  “Who said I ever wanted a relationship?” he smirked.

  I leaned over and smacked his arm. “That is exactly what I'm talking about. When you can’t get rid of me with disbelieving comments about angels, you try to use sex. Behave and act the gentleman I know you can be and that Maggie wouldn’t be ashamed of.”

  His fingers tapped a rhythm on the steering wheel and he nodded. “You’re right. And I apologize for my behavior. Strictly professional from here on out.”

  I settled back into my seat. I should have felt satisfied with the result. I had just made some form of headway with him. Yet, even though it was forbidden, the thought of only ever having a professional relationship was soul crushing. I liked him, I realized. Despite everything, I was freaking falling for him. Maybe a strictly professional relationship was for the best.

  * * *

  Despite the fact it was pushing nine, it was still reasonably busy in the precinct. As well as Leon and Leanne who I recognized, there were a couple of other faces I didn’t, who all looked up as I followed Joshua back to the desk he shared with Leon.

  “How on earth can you work on such a cluttered desk?” I asked Joshua as he took a seat.

  “Organized chaos,” he muttered, leaning forward to pull his notebook from his pocket and threw it on his desk. “So, going on the theory that I believe you were murdered,” he said in a low voice. “You believe that you were murdered by the same person as Emily Montgomery.”

  “And Callie Edmunds,” I added.

  Joshua looked back at me with a frown. “Callie Edmunds was found off St. Joseph Street: the Warehouse District,” he added at my blank look. “Early evening. The MO’s are completely different.”

  “Just don’t rule it out too soon,” I told him, reaching for the file.

  He made an impatient sigh and took the file from me. “Look, don’t touch.”

  I held both hands up and backed up a step. “Fine, no touching,” I sighed.

  Joshua ran
his hand over his stubbly jaw. “Follow me,” he said eventually, stacking Emily’s file on top of Callie’s. He paused for a moment and then started collecting some blank pages from a drawer. “Leon?” he called.

  “Josh?” Leon returned.

  “Have uniform given us their reports yet?”

  Leon barked out a laugh and walked over. “Uniform? Reports already? Have you been drinking?”

  “Fair point,” Joshua muttered. “I take it asking about the coroner’s report is out of the question too?” At the look Leon gave him, Joshua nodded. “Fine. I will be in room three if you need me.”

  “With Lucy?” Leon asked, a little puzzled.

  Oh crap. I had forgotten I had given the police a false name when I had been arrested.

  “Her name’s Angel,” Joshua told him, shooting me a look.

  “That’s not the name she gave us,” Leon said, folding his arms as he stared at me.

  “My name’s Angelina,” I confessed. “I might have panicked slightly when I was arrested.” Not strictly a lie.

  “And your brother?” Leon asked, pressing his fist against his mouth.

  “Half-brother?” I offered. Again, not too far from the truth. “I moved here a few years ago, although I’m actually a US citizen now. I live with my aunt up on Lakeview,” I told him with a weak smile. “I played the tourist card in hopes that you might be lenient on me.”

  Leon removed his fist, placing his hand on my shoulder. With his other hand, he grabbed Joshua and pushed us out of the room and down the corridor to an empty conference-style room. He closed the door behind us and turned to face us. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you should be in?” he asked me. “How much trouble you should be in?” he asked Joshua. He shook his head. “How much trouble I could be in?”

  “I'm sorry, Leon,” Joshua apologized. “I didn’t know she had given a false name.”