by Graham, Jan
Both of them lay breathless for a long moment before Christian finally rolled to his side and pulled Angel back into his arms. She felt his fingers run over the side of her neck, inspecting the large, dark mark he had left on her.
“Looks like some bastard bit you,” he joked.
“Must have been one of the men I’m in love with.” Angel giggled in reply.
Christian held Angel until she went back to sleep and then slipped out of bed, donning a pair of pyjama pants and joining Daniel once again in the living room.
“Would it be childish to run across the room and high-five you?” he asked Daniel as he entered the room.
“Probably.” Daniel chuckled. “But I do understand the impulse.”
“I would never have guessed that I would come home to this tonight.” Christian flopped onto the sofa. “So, fill me in on what happened.”
Daniel told his brother what had transpired and Angel’s fearful reaction at his arrival home that evening. Christian agreed that her sudden concern about doors being locked was unusual, and the fact that she believed she could not go out was setting off alarm bells. They sat trying to figure out what may be happening. Angel had been closed off in relation to talking about certain aspects of her life, but she had never been scared to be in the house. Daniel and Christian both knew something was going on, but they were damned if they had any indication what it was. After all, Samuel was dead and Christian had found no indication Angel had ever had anything to do with Adrian Hastings. The woman Trevor had told him about was Samuel’s mistress and Angel had been his de facto wife. Christian tried to dismiss the uneasy feeling that started churning in his gut.
Instead, Christian questioned Daniel about Angel’s health. He had noticed her pallor and the weariness that often invaded her expression. He listened as Daniel explained his thoughts about placing Angel in too many emotional situations too quickly and agreed that may have been the reason for her being unwell.
“So why do you think Angel finally expressed her love for us today then?” Christian asked.
“Whatever happened to cause her to become afraid turned out to be incentive enough to make her realise that she loved us and didn’t want to lose that love,” Daniel stated. “We’ll find out what she’s scared of, and it doesn’t impact on the fact that she has finally come to terms with what she feels for each of us.”
“We’ll find out tomorrow night. I gave Angel until Wednesday to work out how to tell us what was bothering her last Sunday. Admittedly it’s now the following Wednesday, but I didn’t stipulate what Wednesday night we’d discuss it. Maybe they are the same thing. If not, we just include it in the discussion.” Christian looked at Daniel. He could tell by the look on Daniel’s face that he wasn’t going to argue about putting the discussion off any further.
“Then I guess tomorrow night will be just as interesting as tonight has been, but for very different reasons,” Daniel stated before bidding Christian good night and going to bed.
Christian wandered to bed not long after Daniel. He was still concerned that whatever was going on with Angel had something to do with Barnard’s death. As he looked at Angel sleeping peacefully beside him, he sighed. Trevor Duncan had told him the woman they were looking was Barnard’s mistress, but he had never actually stated the woman’s name. Still, the time frame of the missing woman fitted with Angel’s arrival at their home. Christian reminded himself that he had found no evidence of Angel having anything to do with the Hastings organisation, apart from living with Barnard.
“What is going on with you, my sweet Angel?” Christian whispered almost silently as he brushed a strand of hair from Angel’s face.
Love goes hand in hand with trust. Do you trust me enough to tell me everything I need to know? As Christian thought the words, he kissed Angel on the cheek, placed his arm around Angel’s sleeping body, and pulled her into his embrace before falling asleep.
Steve’s secure mobile rang at four in the morning. He had only just dozed back off to sleep after being woken continually throughout the night by the memory of Angel’s screams.
“What the fuck are you doing ringing me at this hour?” he snapped into the phone.
“We have a lead. You need to make tracks ASAP.” Trevor Duncan sounded as tired as Steve felt.
“Talk to me.”
“She accessed her bank account, same location as before. So, she either didn’t leave that area in the first place, or she has decided to come back. She purchased items at Bright Sparks Electrical Store, The Shoe Warehouse, the supermarket, and The Book Nerd, and she ate lunch at Eat This Café. How long will it take you to get there?”
“Probably about three hours, maybe a little longer, anything else?”
“Yeah, she bought a phone charger so it looks like she has decided she might need a phone soon.”
“Okay, well, I’m not going to try and call her. She’ll probably run. I’ll be in touch.”
Steve hung up the phone and sat on the edge of the bed with his head resting on his hands. Angel Wylde was slowly killing him. He wandered to the shower and let the cold water run over him. He needed something to wake himself up if he was going to drive for the next three hours. Steve dressed and then packed. At least being in one place for a few days had given him time to do some washing. Angel’s house was fully equipped with all the mod cons. If he could manage to keep her alive, then she may actually get to enjoy living here at some stage. He had already discussed with Trevor the possibility of using the place as a safe house to hide her until Adrian was taken care of. It seemed like the most logical answer to keep her safe until everything was sorted out. Of course, that all depended on two things. First, Steve needed to find her, and then Christian needed to convince her to accept police protection. Steve was more confident in Christian’s side of the equation than in his.
Steve grabbed his bag and bike keys then looked down at the additional box of items he had gathered to take with him. That just wasn’t going to cut it on his Harley. He walked over to the keys hanging on a hook on the wall. He picked up one of the sets of keys and fingered the key ring. “Slut’s Car.” The words were scrawled across a picture of a buxom blonde dressed in high heels and a string bikini. Samuel Barnard was definitely a pig. Steve was sure Angel wouldn’t have picked a key ring like that. It was definitely a Barnard touch.
As he locked the house and carried his gear over to the garage, Steve decided Angel’s car was a good choice of transport. It was only a few years old, fairly conventional, so it wouldn’t draw attention to him, and of course hers, if they needed to drive back here once he found her. They could easily accommodate any luggage and groceries that they may need. Also, the box of items that he packed into the small hatch’s boot, including Barnard’s laptop, were protected from the elements. The stereo had Bluetooth connectivity, which meant Steve could listen to his iPod as he drove. Steve laughed as he heard himself justifying the practicality of his choice of car. He finally admitted the main reason he had decided to take it was because he knew Angel would be happy to have it back. Hell, he might even win some brownie points for finding it for her. God knows he needed to do something to get into Angel’s good books.
It was half past five when he finally got onto the freeway. Given that he needed coffee desperately, Steve decided his only stop would be at the next roadhouse he came across. After that it was straight onto the mall and hopefully some information on how to find Angel. If all went to plan, he should be arriving at the mall by eight o’clock. Steve thought about how he would find Angel. It would be so much easier if she would just answer her damn mobile, or at least return one of his messages. The woman was definitely stubborn when she wanted to be.
He had spent weeks worrying that she might be dead or in the hands of the Hastings gang. How much sleep had he lost over her since she went AWOL? And now he finds she didn’t have her bloody phone charger with her. Hopefully she would get her act together and contact him today. That would certainly save him valua
ble time in hunting her down. Still, chances were she would ignore the previous messages he’d sent.
Stubborn bloody woman!
As he pulled into the roadhouse for a coffee Steve contemplated sending Angel a new text, maybe telling her he had found her car to encourage her to reply. He was reluctant to try and manipulate her in that way though, and he definitely didn’t want to spook her. If she ran again now, the chances of getting another lead on her were slim. He had to ensure his own impatience to find Angel didn’t make him do anything to limit his chances of achieving that goal.
Steve got back on the road fairly quickly. His double-shot espresso with five sugars really was doing the trick. Steve felt the rich coffee concentrate pulse into his veins becoming more alert with each slurp.
Steve wound down the window before lighting a cigarette. Yep, he was an addict…coffee and nicotine, no better way to start the day. He knew Kathy would be disappointed in him. He hadn’t smoked for three years. But when a man’s away from home, feeling stressed and awake at two in the morning after having yet another nightmare, old habits come easily. It didn’t help that the previous owner of the house had left a carton of his favourite brand of smokes in the study. Some circumstances just made it easier to fall than others.
Steve dialled Trevor’s secure mobile. He needed a few things sorted out, and Trevor was his man to get things done. Well, at this time of the morning he was the only contact Steve had, so there was no other choice really.
“Hello, Uncle Fred.” Trevor’s voice was warm and friendly.
“I take it it’s not a good time to call you, Aunt Mildred.” Steve laughed his reply.
“No, not really, I’m in a meeting. But if it’s important I can give you a minute.”
Trevor was a man true to his word. He had told Steve he would always talk no matter what was happening, and he had always honoured that promise.
“Okay, I’m travelling in Angel’s missing Toyota. When you get a chance, can you check that there is no stolen vehicle alert on it? I’m pretty sure she said the police weren’t interested when she said Barnard had taken it, but best to be safe. I have a box of goodies that needs to be secured, so I need to get them to you ASAP. I will deliver it via our friend in the Major Crimes Unit. There’s good info that we can use when the time’s right. Also I’m going to stay at Shore’s place instead of a motel until I have to leave the area. Can you let him know I may be there when he arrives home? I’ll use the key I have to let myself in.”
“Consider it done. Talk to you soon, Uncle Fred.” With that statement, Trevor disconnected the call.
Steve assumed Trevor must have been meeting with Internal Affairs. He’d told him he had info on the spy, and IA was the mob to deal with all that shit. He smiled to himself as he glanced at his watch. Six-fifty in the morning. Markham would be toast if it was the IA team with Trevor at this time of the morning. The two guys he knew from IA used to gloat about the fact that they took on the role so they only had to work normal office hours instead of the shit hours and constant shift rotation that most cops worked. Any emergencies outside of regular daytime hours instantly got IA back up and ensured the cop being investigated had a black mark against him before the investigation even started.
Couldn’t happen to a nicer shithead.
Steve had taken great delight in busting up Markham’s face a few weeks ago. Any cop who would work for Adrian Hastings as a snitch deserved what he got. Steve was sure that Markham would be getting paid handsomely for the information he provided. However, money wasn’t nearly as important as honour. In Steve’s line of work, a man would lose his very soul if he didn’t stay grounded by maintaining strong moral and ethical principles. As far as Steve was concerned, Markham had sold his soul to the devil, and the devil always viewed his lackeys as expendable pawns if they were exposed.
Steve had often referred to the investigation against Hastings as being just a big game of chess. Whoever had the best strategy and most skill would eventually win. So far there had been losses on both sides, but Steve was beginning to sense a change in the wind. Hastings’s pieces were eventually being taken out of the game, and that was slowly leaving the king exposed. Steve could see checkmate in the not too distant future.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As he drove down the road, Steve saw the mall in the distance. It wasn’t large, just a single-level structure with a moderate, outdoor car park. It was a far cry from the multilevel monstrosities he was used to in the city. Its size would definitely work to Steve’s advantage. Apart from the supermarket, Steve assumed it would probably contain no more than fifty specialist stores. Angel had been in at least four of those stores yesterday, and if this was where she had been hiding for the past few weeks, then the chances are she had been in more. In an area of this size, the odds of someone knowing or recognising Angel were vastly increased.
Steve knew it would be more difficult to find out information here than it had in the tiny community where “good old Sam” had set up his second home. This community was larger, but it still catered to the rural and semirural suburbs of the shire it serviced. He hoped that, unlike a large city, there would be less resistance to helping someone out. Hopefully, people here would be less suspicious than they were in the city and more willing to talk about a new face in town.
Steve parked the car one row back from the mall’s front entrance. From this position, he had a clear view of the front entrance and the bus shelter located off to the front left-hand side of the mall. He could also see the overhead walkway and stairs leading into the car park from the small train station located across the road. Not that Steve planned to sit in the car all day and watch the entrance. He knew the best chance of finding Angel stemmed from talking to the shop owners who had seen her. He glanced around as he entered the mall. Most of the small boutique shops were closed, but given the amount of people with bags of groceries in trolleys walking past him toward the car park, he assumed the supermarket was open.
Locating the mall’s directory display, he looked for the stores that Angel had purchased items from. He made his way down to the supermarket located at the back of the facility. He spotted the café Angel had been to on his way past. It sat to the side of a large, open communal space. The sign out the front stated “serving breakfast now,” and Steve’s stomach immediately rumbled at the thought.
The supermarket hadn’t been much help. The woman on duty explained the rotation of staff meant they couldn’t determine who may have been working at the time of Angel’s visit. Steve realised the mechanics of staffing a larger store such as this and knew it would be a slim chance for gaining any useful information. The supervisor at the information counter had suggested he wait until the copy shop opened and make a flyer with “his sister’s” picture on it to put on the store’s notice board. Steve showed Angel’s picture to a couple of the checkout staff he had been told had worked the previous day before heading to the café. He glanced at the notice board on his way out of the store. It was covered in paper signs about items for sale, community events, and lost pet notices. He knew the supervisor was just trying to be helpful by suggesting the notice board poster, but Angel wasn’t a lost puppy for God’s sake. Hell, he didn’t even know if those signs accomplished getting a pet back anyway.
The café wasn’t very busy. Steve sat down at a table that could give him a clear view of the public access areas and stared at the menu. He was ravenous, the bigger the breakfast, the better. It didn’t take long for a woman to walk over to take his order. The woman was plump, dressed in black pants and a white button-up shirt. She had short, spiky, red hair with hints of blonde through it. She was probably in her forties, but Steve was never good at guessing women’s ages. Before he was married, Steve had relegated women into three age categories, too young, too old, and available for sex.
“What can I get you, honey?” She smiled as she approached, asking him the question long before she reached the table.
“I’ll have the
big breakfast and a double-shot espresso to start.” He smiled back at the woman.
“To start.” She laughed. “Well, just so you know I love a man with a good appetite, so order whatever you like. The big breakfast is a fair serve though, so hopefully we can fill you up.”
“You might have your work cut out for you. I’m pretty hungry. I’ve been on the road since four, so I’ve worked up an appetite.” Steve laughed, amused by the pleasantries of the conversation.
The woman was surprising him with the ease of the conversation. Most people looked at him with a slight wariness. Even the helpful supermarket supervisor had been a bit cautious at first. Steve knew it was the long hair and tattoos that sent up warning bells for most people, but in his line of work it had its advantages. Not that he looked the way he did for work purposes. He had started getting tats when he was in his late teens and leather and denim was what he felt most comfortable in.
“A four o’clock start would explain those dark circles under your eyes then. So are you heading into or out of the city?” she asked as she picked up the menu from the table.
“Neither actually. I’ve driven up from down south. I’m here for a few days.” Steve pulled the picture of Angel out of his pocket. “I’m actually looking for my sister.”
The woman took the picture of Angel and stared down at it before glancing between the photo and Steve.
“You have the same eyes, apart from the dark circles of course.” A hint of suspicion crossed her face. “So is she really your sister, or has she run away from you because you treated her like shit?”
Steve was taken aback, and obviously the shock showed on his face because the woman’s expression softened as he replied.
“She’s my sister. She used to live with a guy who treated her worse than shit though. By the time I found out how much danger she was in, the bastard had her so terrified she was scared to leave him. Anyway I was working on getting her to a safe place, and she disappeared. I have a few friends down here, and one of them rang me yesterday to say they thought they saw her hopping onto a bus out the front of here. So I drove up this morning to see if I could find her.” Steve paused briefly and, pointing to his eyes, added, “The dark circles are from nearly a month’s lack of sleep worrying about her.”
