Christmas Angel

by Amanda McIntyre

  Was she right? Was he avoiding the truth? His brain wandered briefly to the image of her twirling in that gown for his approval, her radiant smile as she danced earlier tonight, and the soft admiration on her face when she whispered, “Let’s go home.” It hit him then, causing his stomach to pitch like the sudden drop in an elevator. He had feelings for her. Real. Unplanned. Serious. Jesus, he hadn’t seen it coming.

  “Who’s next?” The clerk, a studious young man with thick glasses, peered at him as he stepped up to the counter. He glanced at Shado’s full arms and gave him a toothy grin. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Uh, yeah, same to you,” he mumbled and put the items down. He reached in his jacket to retrieve his wallet.

  The clerk held up the box of condoms, studying it with a frown.

  Shado cleared his throat. “Is there a problem?”

  “Extra large?”

  Shado’s forehead broke out in a sweat. Really?

  “Do you know—how much?” The precise man’s broken English was succinct and professional.

  “Won’t it scan?” Shado suggested, glancing at an older couple behind him, clutching a gallon of milk and a carton of bran flakes.

  “The scanner is broken and this doesn’t have a tag. The extra-large are more.

  Let me call back and get a price.”

  This was doing little for Shado’s frustration. What cosmic force didn’t want him to own a blessed condom?

  The elderly gentleman reached around him and grabbed the box from the clerk without preamble. “Twelve ninety-five.” He dropped them on the counter and gave Shado a wink. “The missus prefers those. Better stimulation. Can’t stand that gel crap. Burns like hell.”

  Shado tried to hide the surprise on his face and nodded. “Thanks.”

  The ring of the register pulled his attention back to the clerk. Through the plate glass of the front window, he saw a familiar form walk past. It was likely his imagination, but it sure as hell looked like the guy from the tavern. Crazy. Still he wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Uh, yeah, could you please move it along? I’m kind of in a hurry.” Shado craned his neck but to see his car but a man and his wife stood inside the front entrance arguing over what coupons to use.

  Misunderstanding his impatience, the old man chuckled and patted his back.

  “Take your time, young fella. She’ll like it better.”

  Shado barely heard his comment as the clerk began to count out his change. “Keep it.” He grabbed the bag, darted outside, and searched the lot. A misty fog clung to the air, indicating there’d soon be snow. He stepped up to the car and looked over the hood. A lance of cold fear shot through his gut when he realized her car door was open. He ran around to the other side, and searched the lot, his instinct warning that the man he had seen had her. Shit. Shit. Shit. He pressed the number to the precinct, praying someone other than a rookie was on tonight. “This is Detective Jackson. I’m at the CVS on the corner of One-Forty-Second and Crescent Avenue. I need to report a missing woman—possible kidnapping. Need all units in the area to search for a white female, approximately five-six, blonde hair, blue eyes—last seen wearing a long evening gown, ivory in color. She is a murder witness, and her captors should be considered armed and dangerous.” He walked around the car, searching for anything, any clue. It was as though she’d vanished into thin air.

  “Ten-four. We’ll send all units in the area your way.”

  He then punched in Gleason’s phone number and after several rings, he finally answered. “Jack, we have a problem. Angel’s missing. I made a stop here at the drugstore near the apartment, and when I came out, she was gone.” He held his palm to his forehead and scanned the parking lot for the umpteenth time. “Goddamnit. I think it might have been the guy from the tavern. The one I thought looked at me strange. Shit. He has to be a tail for Espinoza.” Fuck! He raked his hand through his hair. This is what I get for being distracted by a woman. “I’ve got to find her, Jack.”

  “Okay, okay. You’ve got to slow down. Think this through. I’ll be right there, and promise me, Shado, you don’t go fishing around alone. Understand?”

  He paced the parking lot, angry for leaving her alone in the car. What an idiot.

  “If anything happens to her…shit, just hurry.”

  “A few of us are leaving now. Units are on their way. We’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

  “Right,” he scoffed. He caught a slight flutter of something on the chain link blocking the lot from the next property.

  “Stay right there. Copy?” Gleason reiterated.

  “Yeah,” he answered, distracted by the odd piece of something waving, it seemed, at him. He punched off his phone and dropped it in his coat pocket. Cautiously he moved toward the fence, keeping his eyes open for movement. One man couldn’t have gotten far with a struggling woman—unless she wasn’t struggling. Shado pushed the thought from his mind. He would find her. There was no other plan. He reached up, plucked the object from the wire. It was a piece of Angel’s lacy gown.

  Encouraged he had a clear direction; he hustled back to his car, retrieved his service revolver from the glove box, and started down the dimly lit alley next to the store. He did a quick search of a trash bin and behind a stack of crates— possible places where one might dump a body if in a hurry, breathing a sigh of relief when he found none. Moving farther down the alley, he came to an abandoned car. His heart pounded like fury in his chest as he rounded the vehicle. He took a deep breath and yanked open the back door. The car was empty, but a glint captured his attention, and he reached down to scoop up the garnet from the ground.

  Shado glanced up and silently applauded her skills at leaving him clues to know he was on the right path and prayed her ingenuity would keep her alive until he could find her. He stuffed the necklace in his pocket and kept moving down the alley. Behind the next building he came to a large lot overgrown with weeds. Mottled graffiti covered the low brick walls and backs of the surrounding buildings.

  Not far from the alley entrance he spotted three cars, new models and far too nice for the neighborhood, parked outside a boarded-up strip joint. The area was silent, and he cursed the amount of time it was taking for the other units to arrive, but he couldn’t wait. It could mean the difference between life and death. Pushing forward, he paused next to a dumpster, prompted by a rank odor to shove the lid open and peer inside. Thankfully, the smell wasn’t human. Careful not to make a sound, he eased the lid down and scanned the area, listening for the sound of approaching cars. Reason and fear warred inside him, but determination not to lose Angel drove him forward. He crouched low and hurried across the shadowed lot.

  Staying to the back of the building, he searched for a way in. To his surprise, the door eased open, unlocked. He grew more cautious. A trap? He took one final look around to see if the units were on their way and then moved into the narrow hallway. The pungent stench of rotting wood, urine, and old liquor assaulted his nose.

  “I say we take care of business and get outta here.”

  Shado plastered himself against the wall and held his breath. Hang on a few more minutes, Angel.

  “How fortunate you were walking past the drugstore and saw our guest.”

  “It was like a gift from heaven, boss. She was just sitting in the car by herself.”

  “It’s nothing personal, you understand. We can’t have any loose ends. And you, my lovely lady, are a loose end.”

  “What do you want me to do with her?”

  “Be patient, my loyal friend. Let me ask this. Did you make sure her boyfriend,

  Detective Jackson, didn’t follow you?”

  The authoritative voice spoke with cool-headed clarity, sending chills down Shado’s spine. It had to be Espinoza.

  “I was too fast. I thought he might recognize me from the bar, so I kept my head down. Besides, if he’s stupid enough to come after us, we’ll take him out like you did his brother.”

  A maniacal laugh made his skin cra
wl. “What luck you have, Anthony.

  Unfortunately, there is no room for sloppiness. You should have killed the girl there, not chanced he might follow you to me.

  “I’m sure he didn’t see me, Mr. Espinoza.” The man’s voice shook with fear.

  Then a frightened gasp. “No!”

  Two shots, fired in rapid succession, and silence.

  Shado held his breath, squeezing his eyes tight, his jaw clenched to prevent him from screaming out to Angel.

  “You are quite beautiful. I can understand why he would wish to protect you.”

  “He will think I’ve left him.”

  Shado opened his eyes and released a sigh of relief when he heard her voice.

  The bastard hadn’t killed her.

  “We had an argument before he went inside.”

  A snide sound of disbelief followed. “And loyal. Impressive in such a beautiful woman. I hope he appreciates you.” Another man joined in Espinoza’s mocking laughter.

  “I’m telling you the truth.”

  “Of course, you are, but let’s be certain, shall we? Apparently, you’ve yet to appreciate how pigheaded he can be, just like his brother. Eddie, JC,” Espinoza barked, “check the back door and make sure this idiot wasn’t followed. You, come get this mess cleaned up.”

  Shado eased into one of the bathroom stalls, pressing his back against the metal wall. He considered his options. Take out as many of them as he could and risk Angel’s life or wait for the good guys to arrive. Either way, she was in real danger.

  Fortunately, he didn’t have to decide. At that very moment, the back door crashed open, followed by a flurry of shouted directions.

  “Officer! Don’t shoot!” Shado bolted into the hallway, signaling that he was going ahead to the next room. Satisfied that his colleagues had the men cuffed, he waited with his back to the wall, counted to three, and dropped to his knee as he entered the room. “Police! Drop your weapon!” He swung the gun to the left and then to the right, seeing no one. His eyes met Angel’s frightened gaze. Her arms and legs were bound to a chair with duct tape. He took a step toward her.

  “Behind you!” she cried.

  The next few seconds were a blur as Shado turned, raising his arm to clothesline his attacker with a firm chop across his windpipe. A low groan pushed from the man’s lips as the force sent him sprawling across the bare concrete floor. From the corner of his eye, Shado saw another man trying to escape through a broken window. The criminal’s foot slipped and he fell back through, slicing open his side on a jagged piece of glass.

  He kept his gun toward the man writhing on the floor. “Where’s Espinoza?”

  “You can drop your weapon now, Detective Jackson.”

  He looked over his shoulder and came face-to-face with the man who’d shot down his brother, and God knows how many others, in cold blood. Espinoza pressed the barrel of his gun to Angel’s forehead. Shado held his hands out in surrender, slowly lowering his body to put the gun on the floor. His gaze locked on his opponent. He had to think of something fast or both he and Angel would be joining Danny. Unacceptable. She was an innocent in all of this. “You have me,

  Espinoza. Let her go.”

  He chuckled. “Twice? I think not, my friend. I have a reputation to uphold. Unless, of course, I can convince her to come with me. I could give her a life she’s never dreamed of.”

  “I would rather die.”

  The killer smiled and stared down at her. “Easily arranged.” “Drop it, Espinoza!” Gleason burst through the doorway.

  Startled, the man turned toward Gleason, gun raised, and was distracted long enough for Shado to grab his revolver, aim, and squeeze the trigger. A dull crack echoed in the room when the bullet found its mark. Blood exploded from the wound, and Espinoza fell to his knees and then to the floor. Shado scrambled to Angel’s side. “Glad you could show up,” he called over his shoulder to Gleason.

  “Thanks for following my orders,” Jack volleyed back.

  “Get me something to cut this tape,” he called to the uniformed police beginning to fill the tiny space. He glanced down at his feet, where Espinoza lay, his lifeblood spilling from his wound. “That was for Danny,” he muttered.

  Glancing up, he met Gleason’s steady gaze.

  His friend nodded then turned to the blue uniforms. “Okay, let’s go. Get the wounded out.”

  Someone handed Shado a penknife, and he knelt next to Angel, assessing her condition as he sawed her out of her bindings. He peeled the tape from her soft flesh. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

  “I’m all right.” She looked at him, and once her hands were free, she pressed her palm over his heart. “I knew you’d come.”

  “That was clever, leaving me clues.” Shado noted the dark red spot beneath where her hair had fallen over her temple. He lifted the tangled, matted mess.

  Her previous wound had been reopened.

  “God damn. Sonofa—” She winced when he gently touched it. “I need to get you to the hospital.”

  “He can’t hurt anyone ever again,” she reminded him.

  Shado’s fury eased as he looked down at Espinoza. He would like to have fed him to the rats.

  Gleason patted his shoulder. “You take care of her. I’ll handle things here.” Shado closed his eyes and nodded. It was over.

  ***

  Angel sat in the waiting area, her forehead plastered with an overly large gauze dressing. She held three more pads, extra tape, antibiotic ointment, and an admonition from the same doctor she’d seen the first time that she should consider a different line of work. Thankfully, there was no sign of a concussion, but he recommended if she refused to go to observation overnight that someone check on her hourly until morning.

  Shado volunteered without hesitation. Warm fuzzy feelings of security were probably overblown, but in light of his dangerous rescue, she would always be grateful to him.

  He smiled, tight-lipped as he ended his conversation with Captain Murphy. Whatever he had to say, she suspected it was going to be difficult, based on the look in his eyes.

  “There is no need for you to continue to be under my protection.” He sat down beside her. “I told the doc I’d keep an eye on you tonight, but the captain says he’s made arrangements to have you taken to a women’s shelter on Monday.” He sighed and folded his hands over his knees.

  “Detective Gleason mentioned something about it earlier tonight.” Angel studied his profile, wanting to believe what happened between them meant more than it did, and then realized with Espinoza no longer a threat, she was no longer his responsibility. “I guess I didn’t realize it would happen so soon.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I guess neither of us expected the events of tonight, but I’m really proud of you, Angel. You hung in there, kept your head, which saved your life.”

  No, you saved my life. “What is a shelter?” She tried to move forward, tried to think of life without him. “How long will I be able to stay there?”

  He braced his hands on his knees and stared at the floor. “For as long as you need. They provide a variety of services—relocation help, job interviews, they’ll even help you with job skills. Normally they help women in danger or eyewitnesses who testify and need to start over as a new person. They will help you get situated.”

  “It sounds like a good place.”

  He nodded and shot her a quick look. “Yeah, it’s great.” He stood then and looked down at her. “I guess I should get you back. You’re no doubt exhausted from your ordeal.”

  “A little, yes,” she confessed. Her eyes welled as she saw his struggle. He hadn’t used the term “home” like he’d done earlier. Perhaps once settled, with a reputable job, maybe even her own place, he’d consider getting together from time to time. But even as she pondered the future, a cold dread filled her. Would she ever see him again?

  Angel wanted to lighten the somber mood, but could not think of a thing to say, so she rode in silence, stealing glances at his stern
face illuminated by the passing streetlights. He’d not said more than two words to her directly, but muttered “dammit” more than once as he stared straight ahead. When they entered the apartment, it felt different. There was an awkward feeling between them.

  “Do you want me to fix us some tea?”

  The sudden sound of his voice startled her. She shook her head. “No, thank you. I think I’d like to go to bed.”

  “I’ll pull out the couch for you,” he offered.

  “Would it be too much to ask to sleep with you?”

  His brows arched in surprise.

  “I just…I don’t want to be alone, Shado.” She swallowed the humiliation of asking for his company. “If you could hold me, that’s all I ask.”

  He looked away and nodded. “Go on in. I’ll be there shortly.”

  She draped the gown on the chair and, spying one of his old T-shirts, drew it over her head, pausing to memorize his scent in the fabric. She found a clean pair of his boxers, and once dressed, she slipped between the covers and waited. The bathroom light went off, pitching the apartment into shadow. She heard him enter the room and felt the mattress give beside her. They lay shoulder-to shoulder, staring at nothing. Finally, she turned her head to him. “Will you try to go spend Christmas with your family?”

  “I haven’t thought about it.”

  “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.”

  “Is it? I guess maybe I lost track of the days.” He made a sound in his throat.

  “It’s Danny Jr.’s birthday.”

  “Your nephew?”

  “Yeah. He’ll be seven.”

  “Seven. My goodness, I can barely remember what seven is like.” She glanced at him, aware she was about to tread on sacred ground with the question she wanted to ask. But if these were the last few days they’d spend together, she wanted to be remembered as more than his lover; she wanted—hoped—they could part as good friends. Someone he could confide in and trust.