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Bad Habit

Page 13

by JD Faver


  She matched her rhythm to his, crying out in little moans with each stroke.

  Angel felt her excitement blaze out of control as pleasurable little tremors pulsed through her body. Her passion engulfed him as he joined her pleasure. They clung together, wet and spent in the aftermath.

  He smiled and brushed damp hair away from her forehead. Gazing into her eyes, he saw only tenderness there.

  “I am,” she gasped.

  “In love with me?” At her nod, a deluge of happiness filled him, threatened to drown him. He leaned down for another kiss. “But you can’t quite say it, can you?”

  She shook her head.

  “As long as you feel it, I can wait for you to find the words.”

  They lay together and eventually slept.

  When the first rays of sunlight slanted into the room, they were still entangled in each other’s limbs.

  Angel opened his eyes and cautiously turned his head to gaze at Teri’s sleeping face. Her expression was peaceful and relaxed. She embraced him with an arm and leg stretched casually across his torso, her face on his shoulder. This was what he’d wanted. Now that she was here, he wondered if he had come to this place honestly.

  He examined her features, feeling overwhelmed by longing. She had resisted when he first came on to her. Last night she gave herself to him, but he’d continually pursued her. Perhaps she felt she had no choice.

  He tried to erase the negative thoughts bombarding him. He wanted her to want him. He couldn’t deny the passion they’d shared the previous night, but did she love him? Why can’t she say it?

  He realized her eyes were open and she was watching him intently. “Good morning, Querida.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  He felt her voice resonate from her throat pressed against his chest. He smiled and brushed the hair away from her forehead. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

  “Your face.” She shifted her position slightly, causing a surge to his libido. “We may be fairly new together but I’m becoming an expert on gauging your internal temperature by your expression.”

  “Think so, huh?” A grin spread across his face. “Gauge this.” He pressed her hand against his erection.

  “I noticed,” she said. “You seem to be a morning person.”

  “I’m interested in you twenty-four/seven.”

  “Is this part of the passionate Latino thing you were telling me about?”

  “Maybe I’m just glad to see you.”

  A knock at the door, interrupted anything she might have said.

  “Teri?” Esme knocked again.

  “Yes,” she responded.

  “Mama’s making pancakes and she wants to make sure everyone’s at the table so she can serve them hot.”

  “I’ll be right down,” Teri said.

  Esme could be heard knocking on other doors.

  Angel chuckled close to her ear. “Why couldn’t you tell her you’re allergic to pancakes?”

  She laced her fingers through his and pushed herself into a sitting position. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s crawled under your skin since last night?”

  He kissed her fingertips. He gazed into her eyes and sighed. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “What makes you think you’ll lose me?” Her wide eyes searched his, demanding answers. “Do you think I’m the kind of woman who falls into bed so easily?”

  “I think you were right when you said you were tired and vulnerable last night. I took advantage.”

  “Don’t you think it was the other way around?” Teri asked. “I was the one who asked you to stay. We’ve been skating all around the elephant in the room since we met. I thought it was time we addressed the elephant.”

  “The elephant being sex?”

  “You call it sex. I call it the great physical attraction between us. If it’s just sex then the curiosity should have been satisfied last night.”

  “You know it’s more than sex on my part.”

  “I know and I feel the same way. I hope you realize that.”

  “I think so,” he said. “But I’d like to hear you say it. You act like you love me but, for some reason, you’re not willing to tell me.”

  “I just...” She looked away, blinking as though to prevent an onrush of tears.

  Angel sighed. “I’m not going to pressure you any more, Teri.” He brought her attention back with his fingertip on her cheek. “You’ve been through a lot in the past few weeks. I’ll be the most patient man on earth. All I want is for you to tell me your feelings, whatever they are.”

  She released a heavy sigh. “I’m feeling like I need a shower.”

  Disappointed, he tried to smile. “Grab your robe and run.”

  As she exited the room he lay back on the pillows. That didn’t go the way he’d intended.

  Angel’s cell rang. He frowned and answered it.

  “Detective Garcia? It’s Sister Clement.” Her voice sounded strained.

  “Yes, Sister. What can I do for you?”

  “I...I’m with someone who wants to talk to you.”

  “Detective Garcia is it?” A man’s voice came on the line. The hair on the back of Angel’s neck stood at attention. He recognized the accent as being unmistakably from the East coast.

  “Who is this?”

  “I’m the guy who has the little nun, Sister Clement here.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I saw you yesterday outside the nun’s place. I recognized the woman with you and she’s got something I want.”

  Angel cleared his throat. “What makes you think so?”

  “Don’t play games, Detective. Have Teri Slaughter call me. Tell her I’ve come for what’s mine.”

  #

  Bernie saw the new janitor standing on a small step ladder in the hall outside her classroom. He was changing the air conditioner filters. She waited for him to complete his task and climb down from the ladder.

  He stared at her uneasily, holding the used filter at his side. He was well over six feet tall and had a stocky frame.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met, sir.” Bernie extended her hand. “My name is Sister Bernadette. I’m the art teacher.”

  “I know who you are,” the man said. “I’ve seen you around.” He wiped his large hand on his coveralls and shook hers. “I’m Klaus, Ma’am. Klaus Grunfeld.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you Klaus. I didn’t know that Herman was planning on leaving us. He’s been here since long before I arrived.” She looked at him expectantly, her clear blue eyes searching his.

  “I don’t know him.” He folded the ladder and tucked it under his arm. “I have work to do.”

  Bernie felt herself reddening. “Yes, of course. I just thought you might know if he’s alright.” She realized Klaus was much younger than she’d originally thought, perhaps in his late twenties.

  “I don’t know, Ma’am. Excuse me.” He hurried down the hall without looking back.

  Bernie stood staring after him, feeling a vague sense of unease.

  #

  Teri sat at the Garcia breakfast table. She’d taken a quick shower and tossed on her clothes. Thanks to her cropped hair she could get away with combing it wet and leaving it to air dry.

  The sideboard was laden with bowls of fruit, various flavors of syrup, confectioner’s sugar and pitchers of ice cold milk and orange juice along with the steaming hot coffee.

  Isabel was making stacks of fragrant buttermilk pancakes to order.

  Teri waited while everyone was served. She smiled at Angel’s great-grandmother as she ate a pancake with sliced strawberries and confectioner’s sugar.

  “Teri,” Isabel said. “How many pancakes would you like?”

  “Oh, I’m waiting for Angel.” Teri couldn’t help but blush when everyone at the table gave her a look. She could only imagine that they knew she’d defiled their son and brother.

  “No waiting. He’ll be down when he comes down.” Isabel stoo
d over her, anticipating her request. “How about three to start with?”

  “Yes, that’s fine,” Teri said. As soon as Isabel set the plate of pancakes in front of her, Angel came loping down the stairs. He looked tense as though some dark mood had mysteriously descended upon him.

  Teri raised her face, expecting the usual forehead kiss.

  “I have to go out,” he said gruffly.

  “Angel, you need to eat your breakfast.” Isabel’s voice held a plaintive whine.

  He gave her a look that silenced further objections. “I’ll be back,” he said. “Teri, you are not to go out of this house. Do you understand me?” He stood, pointing a finger at her as though she was a disobedient child.

  “I understand,” she said softly, a roiling sensation in her gut. His change of attitude frightened her. She watched him leave through the kitchen and slam the door behind him.

  Angel’s family exchanged speculative glances. Teri cut into the pancakes and stabbed a forkfull into her mouth but found it tasted like sawdust.

  #

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Mother Imaculatta cleaned her glasses with a cotton handkerchief. “Missing? Sister Clement isn’t missing.” She raised her thin brows under her straight bangs. “I saw her at breakfast with the other young ones.”

  Angel frowned at her across the polished conference table. He recalled his first meeting with Teri in this same room. Now, he didn’t have time to waste on softening the truth. “Sister, I received a call this morning from Sister Clement and the man who’s holding her. I need to know exactly when he grabbed her. I thought she was staying here at the convent.”

  “Yes, they all are. Since Sister Bernadette left and the man was murdered near their apartment, Sisters Clement, Constantine and Miriam are staying together in the old south wing.”

  “Would it be possible to talk to the other two sisters?”

  “Of course, Detective.” Mother Immaculata used the telephone to dial into the public address system and called the two nuns to the conference room.

  Sister Connie was the first to arrive, looking puzzled when she spotted Angel. He stood, gesturing for her to be seated. Sister Miriam scurried into the room, blushing as though she was a tardy school girl.

  The three nuns sat facing Angel, their expressions reflecting curiosity and concern.

  Angel cleared his throat. “Sisters, I need to know when you last saw Sister Clement. She’s missing.”

  Sister Miriam covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide.

  “We had breakfast together in the dining hall,” Sister Connie said. “Afterwards, Clem said she was going to run over to the apartment and print out her lesson plans on the computer. She should have come right back.”

  Sister Miriam recovered a little and spoke in a breathless voice. “That’s correct. She left right after breakfast.”

  “And what time was that?” Angel asked.

  “It must have been almost seven,” Connie said. “The sun was up already. I watched her take off at a trot.”

  He resisted looking at his watch. That had been almost two hours ago. She could be anywhere by now. “Would you let me borrow a set of keys to the apartment so I can see what happened?”

  “Are you going to look for clues?” Miriam asked in a hushed voice.

  Angel nodded, loathe to alarm them further.

  Connie held out her keys. “Please find her, Angel.” She crossed herself.

  Angel dialed Sergeant Tolliver’s number as he strode briskly to the apartment. He explained the situation as succinctly as possible. Tolliver said he’d meet him at the apartment immediately. Angel sprinted up the stairs and used Sister Connie’s key to enter.

  He swung the door open and saw the aftermath of an obvious struggle. The computer monitor had been swept off the desk and a layer of papers was strewn across the floor.

  Angel stepped inside and tried to walk around the edges of the crime scene. He checked the two bedrooms but there were no other signs of disturbance. The back door stood ajar. It led from the kitchen on a circuitous route past the dumpsters to the side street.

  “I thought I told you to wait for me!” Sergeant Tolliver’s booming voice resonated from the front door. “Now you’ve gone and ruined a possible crime scene.”

  “I was very careful, Sergeant,” Angel said. “I had to make sure there wasn’t an injured victim inside.”

  Tolliver jammed his fists on his hips and glared at him. “So, what’s your take, Mister Big City Detective?”

  “I’m thinking Sister Clement was at her computer. She told the other nuns she was coming right back after she printed her lesson plans. It doesn’t appear that the front door was forced but the back door was standing slightly open. There are scratches around the lock.” Angel gestured for Tolliver to follow him down the back stairs. “There might be prints. Don’t touch the railing.”

  “You don’t think I know that?” Tolliver stopped dead in his tracks and stared daggers at Angel.

  “Just a reminder. Are the techs on the way?”

  “They’re here. And just how the hell did you get in?” Tolliver asked.

  “One of the nuns gave me her key. Look! The shrubs are broken here. Sister Clem struggled with the kidnapper.” Angel knelt beside the shrubbery and pointed to a tortoise shell barrette. “That’s Clem’s. She wears it in her hair.”

  Tolliver called for a crime tech to come and bag the barrette.

  Angel followed the path to the where it led out of the complex onto the side street. This was the entrance he’d used before. He’d parked on this street when he left Teri crunched down on the seat and where she’d been seen by the man who took Clem. He alone, was responsible for the kidnapping of Sister Clem.

  #

  Angel returned home feeling dejected and guilty. The SUV was missing from the garage. He unlocked the back door and secured it behind himself. The large house was strangely silent. The knot of fear tightened in the pit of his stomach. He drew his weapon and soundlessly made his way from room to room, determining that the downstairs was uninhabited.

  He avoided the second step because of the loud creak and crept up the stairs, alert to any sound. He opened the first door, Elena’s room, but it was empty, as was Mikey’s. The next room was shared by Esme and Rosario but it was vacant as well. He crossed the hall to the room that he’d shared with Teri the previous night and swung the door wide. Empty. The next room was his great-grandmother’s room. They never left her alone. He peeked inside, but her bed was made up and she was gone. The only other room was his parent’s bedroom. He twisted the knob and opened the door in a rush, leading with his weapon.

  “Jesus!” Teri shrieked.

  “Holy Mother!” Isabel screamed.

  His great-grandmother sat quietly rocking and nodded at him in greeting.

  He drew a deep breath and holstered his gun. “Where is everyone?”

  “Angel! You scared me to death. Don’t ever do that again!” Isabel sat on her bed with her hands clasped to her heart.

  Teri stared at him, wide-eyed.

  “Sorry ladies.” Angel gave Teri a look and she came running to his outstretched arms. He felt the knot in his stomach untie itself as she clung to him.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered against his neck. “Please tell me the truth.”

  “There’s been a development in the case. I’m sorry if I scared you. The house was so empty.”

  “Arturo took the kids to school. Everyone’s gone,” Isabel said. “But you said Teri had to stay here so Abuelita and I stayed with her.”

  “Your mother was showing me the family album.” Teri gestured to the photo pages laid open on the bed.

  “That should scare you away,” he said. “We have to talk.”

  “You sound like a talk show host,” Isabel said. “Go ahead and talk.” She waved them out of the room.

  Angel led her to his room and closed the door. He took off his jacket and hung it over the hook on the back of his
door.

  “Let’s sit down.” He rolled up his shirt sleeves.

  Teri sank onto the bed, her face displaying evidence of a growing dread.

  He didn’t trust himself on the bed with Teri so he pulled up his desk chair and straddled it backwards.

  When Teri spoke her voice was soft and controlled, almost a whisper. “Whatever it is, just tell me. If you have to arrest me, go ahead. I’ll cooperate with the investigation, even if I have to sit in a jail cell until you’ve caught the killers.”

  He cupped her cheek in his palm. “If only it were that simple. I’m afraid that Clem has been kidnapped.” He watched her face register shock, anger and fear. “I got a call on my cell this morning from Clem. She handed the phone off to the kidnapper. It was the man who recognized you last night when we were at the nun’s apartment.”

  “Omigod! Not Clem. It’s entirely my fault.” Tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks.

  He shook his head. “No, it’s entirely mine.” He reached out to wipe away her tears. “This morning, I went to the convent to talk to the other nuns. They said Clem went back to the apartment. I checked there and saw signs of a struggle. It looks like one or more men took Clem out the back way to a car near where we parked.”

  A strangled sob escaped her throat. “What can I do? I’ll do anything you want.”

  “It’s a kidnapping, Teri. It’s out of my hands.” Angel stroked her cheek, watching helplessly as his words tore her world apart.

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “Tolliver called in the FBI. They’ll run the show from now on.”

  “Surely there’s something...”

  “The crime techs are processing the scene. They may recover prints or other identifiers. I want you to work with the police artist and come up with a picture of the man you saw.”

  “A sketch artist?” Teri asked.

  “They do it with computers now.”

  “Well, I do it with pencils.” She went to the corner and picked up her box of art materials and a sketch pad. She opened the box and removed a soft lead drawing pencil and settled cross-legged on the bed.

 

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