Fallen Five

by Erica Spindler

  Stevens jumped in. “She described her to me. It sounded like the woman, so I showed her a picture from Facebook.”

  She took out her phone, tapped the screen, then held it out. “That’s her.”

  Micki studied the image a moment. “And that’s the woman you saw here, Thursday night?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Again, the turban bobbled.

  “You’re sure?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  Stevens jumped in again. “Geri saw her leaving Sarah’s apartment. Her name’s Tara Green. Like I said, she works with Keith at the ad agency.”

  “Here’s the thing,” Micki said. “Even if her being here is proof Keith was cheating on Sarah, how does that support your theory that he’s partly responsible for your sister’s death?”

  “Maybe they were working together?”

  “To do what?”

  “Get her to kill herself.”

  Micki shook her head. “But why? What would they get out of it?”

  Stevens stared blankly at her. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

  “Gerard and your sister weren’t married, so he was free. There’s no insurance money, bank accounts or property to be gained. Nor kids to fight over. So why do it? And not just one person, but two? I’m sorry, it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Maybe they’re just evil?” Steven’s voice shook. “Rotten, horrible human beings who get off on hurting people? Please, Detective Dare, you have to help me!”

  She started to sob. Pinned by the neighbor’s accusing glare, Micki agreed. “Okay, I tell you what. I’ll talk to her, see what she has to say and and get back to you.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  8:35 A.M.

  Angel heard Micki moving around the kitchen. She’d waited up as long as she could the night before, wanting to tell her about the pregnancy as soon as possible.

  Instead, she’d fallen asleep, sketchpad in her lap, charcoal smeared on her fingers. Her sleep had proved fitful, her dreams populated with Seth and their baby.

  And nightmares, too. Of the baby being taken—snatched from her arms in one and stolen from its crib in another.

  Angel set aside her sketchpad and climbed out of bed. She still wore her sweatpants and T-shirt from the day before. She glanced in the mirror and made a face. She had a charcoal smudge between her eyes and on both cheeks.

  She tiptoed to the door, cracked it open and listened, using the moments to mentally prepare herself. Now or never, she decided. She had to do it. This particular issue wasn’t going anywhere—for about six months, anyway—and she certainly wasn’t going to be able to hide it.

  She darted into the hall and ducked into the bathroom. She took care of the necessaries, including washing her face and combing her hair, then headed to the kitchen.

  “Morning,” she said.

  Micki looked over her shoulder at her and smiled. “Good morning, sweetie!”

  Sweetie? Not quite Micki-like, but maybe she and Zach had finally done something about that thing that was always simmering between them?

  Angel frowned slightly. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Why?”

  “You just seem a little . . . off. You sleep okay?”

  “Great. Want some breakfast?”

  “I’ll get a bowl of cereal. How about you?”

  “Already ate.” She smiled. “A peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk.”

  “Your go-to.” Angel pulled out a bowl and the box of cereal. “Are you on your way out?”

  “I’ve got a few minutes. Why?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Good, because I wanted to talk to you about something, too.”

  “About what?” Angel added milk to her cereal and carried it to the table.

  Micki poured herself a cup of coffee, then came and sat across the table from her. “I heard you cry out last night.”

  “You did?” The cereal turned to ash in Angel’s mouth, and she had to force herself to swallow. “What did I say?”

  “You were calling for Seth.”

  “Oh.” She set down her spoon. “That’s kind of what I want to talk to you about.”

  “Good.” Micki reached both her hands across the table. “Take my hands.”

  Angel hesitated. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re sort of—”

  “Humor me. Take them.”

  Feeling a bit foolish, she did. Micki grasped them and looked her in the eyes. “You need to let Seth go.”

  “What?”

  “He’s not coming back, Angel.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  She went to pull her hands away, but Micki grasped them tighter. So tightly it hurt. “He would have come back by now if he was going to.”

  “Something could have happened to him. He could be hurt or—”

  “Grow up, Angel! I hate to say this, but I have to. He doesn’t love you. He never did.”

  Tears burned her eyes. Angel blinked furiously against them. “Why are you doing this?”

  “It’s for your own good. This brooding isn’t healthy. It’s time to move on.”

  Angel yanked her hands free and jumped to her feet. “You don’t know anything! You don’t know—”

  “I know enough.” Micki got to her feet, rounded the table. “I know he lied to you. Manipulated and used you. You’re lucky he didn’t get you pregnant.”

  Angel backed away from her. “Why are you being so awful?”

  “What’s on the inside of your thigh, Angel? You carry the mark of the beast. Because of him.”

  A triple six, tattooed in that sensitive spot. Against her will. And Seth had watched. And done nothing.

  Angel felt sick to her stomach; the tattoo burned. Something seemed to glow in Micki’s eyes. Like she was pleased with herself. Almost . . . happy. That hurt most of all.

  “I can’t believe I trusted you.” Angel backed away from her. “I can’t believe I thought of you as my family.”

  The contents of her stomach rushed up to her throat. Hand over her mouth, she ran toward bathroom.

  Micki called after her. “You’re only upset because you know I’m right. You’ll thank me someday.”

  Never, Angel vowed, slamming the door behind her and twisting the lock. She made it to the commode just in time. Dropping to her knees, she retched until she had nothing left but tears.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  11:00 A.M.

  Angel hopped off the streetcar, calling goodbye to the driver, who knew her by name. She rode his route three times a week, always alighting at the Telemachus Street stop.

  She adjusted her loaded backpack and darted across Canal Street, heading for Lost Angel Ministries. Eli would know what she should do. He would understand. He always did.

  Micki had left the house shortly after their argument, not even checking on her or calling out goodbye. Angel supposed that small slight shouldn’t hurt, but it did. It hurt a lot.

  Micki had said those things about Seth before, from the very beginning. That he couldn’t be trusted, that he didn’t love her and wasn’t coming back.

  But never that way. Almost gleefully, as if she knew how much her words were hurting Angel, but didn’t care. No, worse than that. Like she was getting off on Angel’s pain. And her whole “take my hands” thing had been so creepy. And condescending. Like Angel was a stupid little girl.

  Angel unlatched the iron gate and stepped through, securing it again behind her. The rain of the night before had left the brick steps littered with leaves and other debris. She would sweep the porch, she thought, pressing the call-buzzer and looking up at the camera, as soon as it was dry enough.

  A moment later the lock turned over and she stepped inside. It was unnaturally quiet, especially for this time of day.

  “Professor!” she called. “Eli! It’s me, Angel.” She stopped at the foot of the stairs. “Where is everybody?”

  Arianna emerged from Professor True
bell’s office and came to the top of the stairs. “Hey, Angel. It’s just me here today. We canceled classes.”

  She looked up at Arianna, battling the urge to cry. “You know when Eli’s going to be back?”

  “I’m not sure. It could be a couple days.”

  She tried to hide how devastated she was at the news. She’d really counted on Eli being here. She shrugged with forced nonchalance. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you around.”

  “Don’t go.” Arianna came down the stairs. “It’s really lonely around here, and it’s almost lunchtime. How about I fix us something? There’s leftover pizza.”

  Angel eyed her suspiciously. Arianna had always seemed nice enough, but she had never really talked to her. Pizza sounded good. And she had nowhere else to go.

  “Sure.” She dumped her backpack, followed the other woman into the kitchen and plopped onto a chair.

  She tilted her head. “You and Zach look so much alike. Not the smile though. His is different.”

  Her expression altered slightly, and she looked quickly away. “No, not the smile.”

  Then Angel understood. “That’s from his dad, isn’t it?”

  “It is.”

  Arianna laid half a dozen pieces of the pizza on a baking sheet and slid it into the oven. “How about a salad? I have everything we’d need.”

  Angel automatically started to refuse, then thought of the baby. “That’d be great.”

  She watched Arianna get the lettuce, tomatoes and a bag of shredded carrots out of the refrigerator. “My mom dumped me, too. But you probably know that already. Mine’s never going to show back up, though.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “I kind of do. It’s okay. I think it’s cool that you came back for Zach.”

  “Thank you,” Arianna said, her voice sounding thick. “I appreciate that.”

  “I couldn’t give my baby away like that. I mean, if I had one.”

  Arianna joined her at the table, taking the chair across from hers and looking her directly in the eyes. “Sometimes in life, you have to do things you would have never thought you could. And when you’re a mom and it comes to your kids, you find this incredible strength to do whatever is necessary to keep them safe.”

  Angel nodded. “I get that.”

  “Good.” She patted her hand. “How about we start with our salads?”

  Angel watched as she picked through the lettuce leaves, discarding the ones that looked spent before putting them in a bowl, dropping in the chopped tomato and sprinkling shredded carrots on top.

  Angel tilted her head. There was something reassuring about the woman. And comfortable. Like a mom was supposed to be.

  Arianna looked over her shoulder and caught Angel studying her. She smiled. “Ranch or Caesar?”

  “Ranch, please.”

  Arianna set the salads on the table, then went back for forks and napkins.

  “Is it true you were held prisoner at a Dark Bearer prison?” Angel asked.

  “Yes, it is.”

  Angel brought a forkful of lettuce to her mouth, frowning as she chewed. After a minute, she looked back up at Arianna. “It was one of those birthing compounds, huh?”

  Arianna nodded.

  “It must have been pretty awful?”

  Arianna was quiet a moment, then met her eyes. “It was . . . hell on earth.”

  Angel swallowed hard. She didn’t know what to say, so she reached over and touched the other woman’s hand. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  “Thank you.” She turned her hand over and gave Angel’s hand a squeeze, then stood up. “How about I get us that pizza?”

  Angel watched as she took it out of the oven and transferred it onto plates. She gave herself two pieces and Angel four, and they ate in silence for several minutes.

  “How did you escape?” Angel asked, picking up her last slice.

  “I don’t actually remember.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I woke up in a hospital in Washington. I was found half dead at the side of the road with no memory of what happened.”

  Arianna pushed her plate aside. “I only remember some of my time at the compound. The doctors say there’s a chance more memories will return. But it’s far from a sure thing.”

  “Would you even want them to?”

  For a long moment, Arianna was quiet, the expression in her eyes far away. “No,” she said, “I don’t think I do.”

  Angel finished off the slice. “I don’t know how you got through it.”

  “It’s that strength thing.” She looked her in the eyes again. “You do what you have to do. That’s what you did, right, Angel?”

  The intensity of Arianna’s gaze made her uncomfortable. “You know my story?”

  “Some of it. I know about you going to save those kidnapped girls yourself. And I know about how you wouldn’t leave your boyfriend and went back to save him from that Dark Bearer.”

  “Seth,” she murmured, dropping a hand to her belly.

  “Why did you come here today, Angel?”

  “To talk to Eli.”

  “I know that. But why?”

  Angel shrugged and looked away.

  “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

  Angel’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

  “You forget where I’ve been. I recognize the signs. How far along are you?”

  “Three months.”

  “Does Micki know?”

  “No.” The word came out harshly. “And I’m not telling her.”

  Arianna frowned slightly. “Is the baby—”

  “Seth’s, yes. And he’s coming back for me, no matter what Micki says.”

  “Micki doesn’t think he’s coming back?”

  “Why would she? According to her, he never loved me at all.”

  Arianna seemed to ponder that a moment. “What are you going to do now?”

  Angel let out a ragged breath and folded her arms protectively around her middle. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s why you came here today, isn’t it? For help?”

  Angel nodded, tears stinging her eyes. She didn’t know if it was Arianna’s gentle voice or the tenderness in her eyes, but the story poured out of her. How her jeans wouldn’t snap and she’d bought the test, how she meant to tell Micki, only to have her say the most hateful things to her about Seth. How she had seemed to enjoy hurting her.

  “I can’t live there anymore,” she said. “Not after that.”

  “Are you absolutely sure he’s coming back?”

  “Yes. I know he is. I know he’s good . . . our love changed him.”

  Arianna was quiet a long moment. “Angel,” she said finally, softly, “please listen to me. Your baby is in danger.”

  Angel recoiled. “No . . . Seth would never—”

  “Not from Seth.” She paused, reached across and caught Angel’s hands. “From the Dark One.”

  “Why?” She searched Arianna’s gaze. “It’s just a baby.”

  “Born of two who are both dark and light.”

  She was right, Angel realized, mouth going dry with fear. She hadn’t even considered that. Seth was just Seth.

  “You have a tremendous gift. I imagine Seth does as well. Everyone is going to want this baby. The bad guys and the good ones.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “It’s ours. I won’t let them have it.”

  “They won’t give you a choice.” She leaned forward. “They will take it, by any means. They would even cut it from your womb and leave you to die.”

  Angel felt lightheaded, sick to her stomach again. Angel recalled her dreams from the night before—of her baby being yanked from her arms.

  This was worse. So much worse.

  “What do I do? I don’t know what to do.” She squeezed Arianna’s hands tighter. “Will you help me?”

  “Of course I will. But you have to trust me. Completely. You’ll have to do whatever I say. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.” A
ngel let out a long breath and said it again, forcefully. “Yes.”

  “Good. First rule, we keep this a secret as long as possible. Do you understand?”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes,” she managed.

  “From everyone. Even Eli and Professor Truebell.”

  “But why? They’d never—”

  “Maybe not. But what if they’re compromised? Think about it.” She searched Angel’s gaze. “What if you’re carrying The Chosen One?”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  12:15 P.M.

  Zach parked behind the Nova. He was actually on the clock, but when he’d checked in at the Eighth and learned that Mick had requested a couple of personal days, he knew something was bad wrong.

  She didn’t answer his repeated calls, so the moment he could break away, he headed to her place. He’d stopped for her favorite coffee, and grabbing it, stepped out of the car. She came to the door wearing sweats and a wrinkled NOPD T-shirt. She looked like hell.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.”

  “Are you sick?”

  “No.”

  He frowned. “So, what’s up?”

  “Nothing.”

  He would have laughed if he wasn’t so worried. “Since when aren’t we partners?”

  “We’re partners.”

  “You’ve got a funny way of showing it. Personal days, Mick? Without telling me? What the hell?”

  She indicated the Venti. “That for me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What is it?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Your favorite, what else?”

  “What is my favorite, Zach?”

  He laughed. “You’re serious? Quad Venti Latté, extra hot. No sugar, no syrups. But you don’t get it until you let me come in.”

  She reached for the coffee and eased the door the rest of the way open with her foot. He followed her in, closing the door behind them.

  “Angel here?”

  “No. She was gone when I got back this morning.”

  “From where?”

  “LAM.” She crossed to the couch and sank onto it, cradling the cup.

  “Lost Angel Ministries? This morning? How come?”

  “To see Eli and the professor, but they’re out of town. At least that’s what she said.”