by Debra Webb
More shots shattered the silence.
* * *
ANGEL'S MOVEMENTS became more frantic when she heard the shot. She didn't know what was happening out there but she had to do something.
She rubbed the tape binding her wrists against the corner of the countertop until she'd succeeded in tearing it. She quickly struggled out of it now. Ripped the tape off her mouth and then from her ankles, ignoring the sting.
The monitor was blank. Had he turned it off?
She didn't have time to figure it out. She resisted the urge to run out the door. A weapon. She needed a weapon.
She dug through his backpack. Her fingers curled around a gun very much like the one she'd purchased. There was a clip in the handle and a similar safety mechanism.
She released the safety and pushed to her feet.
Okay. She could do this.
Angel moistened her lips and forced her respiration to slow, her heart to calm.
Focus. Pay attention to the details the moment you open the door. Don't waste any time.
She eased the door open and moved across the narrow landing to the railing. Below on the ware house floor, a man lay atop her aunt in the middle of the floor. A scream rushed into Angel's throat but she swallowed it back.
Moving. Her aunt was moving. The man on top of her was checking her.
Safe.
She was safe.
Cole. Where was Cole?
Movement in her peripheral vision snagged her attention. Near the side entrance. Cole and another man rolled around on the floor. How could she help?
She stared at the gun in her hand, then at the men struggling. No way to shoot without maybe hitting Cole.
Another flurry of activity drew her gaze to the left. She looked toward the far corner of the mezzanine just in time to see someone barreling up the stairs to ward the roof.
She blinked.
Clark.
He was getting away.
She ran after him.
He couldn't get away.
It would never be over…
She thought of her baby girl.
Mildred was safe. She would take care of her baby.
She had to stop Clark—had to end this.
Dragging in a bolstering breath, she clenched her jaw and ran as fast as she could to the stairs. She didn't slow down to think…didn't lose her focus until she'd reached the very top.
Angel burst through the door and onto the roof. Wind whipped around her.
A helicopter sat near the skylight.
Clark ran toward it.
She took aim. Steadied her arms. Spread her feet apart.
Her left shoulder jerked.
She stared down at it. Saw the blood bubble through a strange hole in Cole's jacket.
The pilot in the helicopter had shot her.
She ignored the burn of pain.
Squeezed the trigger. Glass exploded.
The man in the helicopter fell to one side.
She hadn't shot him?
Had she?
Clark suddenly turned. His weapon leveled in her direction.
She fired again.
He stumbled back, but didn't drop his weapon.
She fired again.
He fell back onto the asphalt roof. Was he dead? His arm moved.
She shot him again.
His body twitched.
She fired again.
"I think you can stop shooting now, ma'am."
Angel swung to face the voice.
A man dressed in combat gear held out his hands in a calming gesture. "Lower your weapon please."
She glanced back at Clark. "Has he stopped moving?" Tears were pouring down her cheeks. Her whole body trembled so violently she could hardly stand.
"Yes, ma'am, he won't be moving anymore."
She turned back to the man in black. "Who are you?"
"I'm Specialist John Logan. I'm here with Lucas Camp."
Her strength evaporated in a mist of exhaled tension.
She dropped the gun. Fell to her knees.
It was over.
She'd killed him.
The man named John Logan helped her to her feet. "Let's go inside, ma'am. It's clear now."
Her gaze collided with his. "Clear, what does that mean?"
"It means the enemy has been neutralized."
"What about my aunt? Cole?"
"Your aunt is safe. One man inside is injured, one is dead."
God, don't let it be him.
John Logan helped her down the stairs since she felt too weak to walk on her own. The dizziness just wouldn't go away. Her vision faded in and out of focus. She knew the symptoms but she refused to faint just yet. She had to be sure.
When they reached the mezzanine she broke free from the man named Logan and ran to the railing. Her aunt sat in a chair, a man kneeled beside her, visually examining her. An EMT, maybe only he was dressed in black combat gear like Logan.
Where was Cole?
A motionless body lay on the floor near the door. Her heart stalled in her chest.
No. It wasn't Cole.
Thank God.
Then she saw him.
He stood a few yards away talking to Lucas Camp.
Relief rushed through her. She half stumbled down the remaining stairs that took her to the main warehouse floor.
She suddenly stopped, felt torn. She looked from her aunt to Cole and back. His gaze collided with hers across the distance. She pressed her hand to her mouth to hold back a sob. She wanted so badly to run to him.
"Angel!"
Her aunt's voice drew her in that direction.
She hugged the woman she loved with all her heart.
"Thank God you're safe," Mildred Parker murmured over and over as she hugged and kissed her niece.
Angel drew back and swiped at her eyes. "You're okay?"
Mildred made a scoffing sound. "They couldn't kill me," she protested. "I haven't lived this long without learning a few things." Her aunt winked at her and Angel knew then that everything would be all right. Despite the slightly shaken look in her eyes, she wore her usual unstoppable facade.
She kissed her aunt's cheek. "There's something I have to do."
"Go on. I'm fine." Mildred ushered her off so the man waiting nearby could continue his examination.
Angel hesitated for a moment thinking she should be doing that. She was a nurse.
"Go," Mildred urged, a knowing look in her eyes.
Angel nodded. She pushed to her feet, her legs still feeling shaky. A searing pain shot through her arm. She'd forgotten about getting shot. Wasn't it sup posed to hurt worse than this?
Shock, she told herself. Shock was setting in.
She turned to go to Cole, but he was gone. She frowned, closed her eyes a second and then looked again.
He was gone.
"Ma'am, I need you to sit down and let me have a look at your shoulder."
She looked up to find the man named Logan standing next to her. "Where's Cole Danes?" she asked, almost startled by how strange her voice sounded. A sudden wave of wooziness washed over her.
"You need to sit down, ma'am."
"I'm…where's…"
And then the lights went out.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Inside the Colby Agency,
9:00 a.m…the morning after
"I can't believe it's really over." Victoria Colby-Camp looked to her husband for final confirmation.
"It's over," Lucas confirmed. He turned to Cole then. "I don't know whether to thank you or have you arrested," he said, annoyance muddying the relief he clearly felt. "You endangered both Mildred's and her niece's life. As well as your own," he added with a raised eyebrow. "Not to mention that of Jayne Stephens and Heath Murphy."
"I did what I was commissioned to do," Cole reminded him. That this assignment coincided with his own personal quest was purely accidental…or fate if one believed in such things.
"Mr. Danes." Victoria leaned forward, the leat
her of her luxurious executive chair crinkling with her movement. She settled her clasped hands on her polished mahogany desk. "There are no words to adequately convey my gratitude."
Well, that was a change. Most were too furious with him at the end of an assignment to admit he'd done what they'd asked him to do.
She blinked but not before he saw the emotion clouding her vision for that one instant. "You cannot know what Leberman has done to my family." She stared at her hands a moment. "You've read the ac counts, of course." Her gaze returned to his. "But you can never really know."
But she was wrong.
"Leberman's legacy is finished," Cole stated with finality. He allowed her to see the weight of what he felt inside, the intimate knowledge that no one else on the planet, excluding his father and Angel, knew. "Lucas's team of Specialists rounded up the last of those involved with Stephens and Leberman at Lincoln Park this morning. Your son is safe. You and Lucas are safe."
She smiled and Cole imagined that it had been some time since she'd smiled in just that way. With out reservation, with profound relief. Her life was her own once more. No more ghosts. No more reading between the lines or looking over her shoulder.
The evil that had haunted the Colby name was gone for good.
"Ms. Parker is well I presume?" he asked, keeping his tone carefully measured, completely professional.
"Mildred is fine," Victoria returned without hesitation. "She asked for some time off to be with her boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" Cole felt his expression turn amused. So, Victoria wasn't the only indomitable woman at the Colby Agency.
"Yes." Victoria looked pleased. "Dr. Ballard, a long-standing client of this agency. His life and that of his daughter's was endangered a while back. One of my investigators uncovered the scam at his pharmaceuticals corporation. Mildred and Dr. Ballard have been an item ever since."
Another happy ending for the Colby Agency. Cole wondered why it was that real life rarely had so many happy endings. Obviously fate looked kindly upon the Colby Agency. Or perhaps destiny knew that bigger things were in store for the Colby Agency. Certainly the agency's ability to come back from the brink of devastation meant something in the overall scheme of things. Then again, perhaps the past forty-eight hours had softened him somehow, made him start thinking along lines he'd ignored for more than a decade.
If he was lucky, he'd get over it.
Cole Danes didn't rely on fate or destiny. He paved his own way. Just now, however, his destination seemed rather obscure.
He stood, choosing to shirk the sentimental musings. "If you need me for anything else—" he turned to Lucas "—you know where to find me."
Lucas stood, the effort a bit more arduous this morning. Saving his wife's closest confidante had taken a toll on the man. Cole couldn't resist a smile. Some people just didn't know when to quit.
"Thank you again, Mr. Danes."
Cole turned back to Victoria once more before exiting her office. For the first time since meeting her, he realized how uncommonly strong she was. Though silver had invaded her dark hair and decades of pain and suffering marred her dark eyes, neither detracted from her gracious beauty. Victoria Colby-Camp truly was a remarkable woman.
He nodded once then walked away.
He'd long ago surrendered to the idea that there would never be anyone in his life. He could not afford the distraction in his line of work.
The image of an angel flickered before he could block it. Silky white-blond hair, translucent blue eyes. Not even an angel could save a wretched soul such as his.
At the elevator Lucas Camp stabbed the call button and turned back to him. "There were times in the past few days that I had to repress the urge to kill you myself," he said bluntly.
A smiled tugged at one corner of Cole's mouth. "You aren't the first. I doubt you'll be the last."
Lucas didn't look at all surprised by his retort. "In the event that you were asking after the other Ms. Parker—"
"I wasn't," Cole interrupted smoothly.
"I understand," Lucas said knowingly. "Believe me, I do. Just in case you start wondering while en route back to D.C., she's fine. The bullet went straight through soft tissue. No permanent damage. She's taking a few days off to mend and be with her daughter. Otherwise, she's in top form."
Cole stared at the gleaming steel doors refusing to allow Lucas's words to penetrate his defenses. "I'm sure Miss Parker will be fine."
"Me, too," Lucas allowed. "Some young fellow from the hospital assured us that he would take very good care of her. I think he's a doctor or intern or something."
To Cole's relief the doors slid open at that precise instant. "Good day, Lucas." The last thing he wanted was for Lucas to see how his words affected him. Fury mushroomed inside him, unrelenting jealousy. He refused to acknowledge it. Refused to be moved by it.
"You, too, Danes. You, too."
The doors closed, blocking out the view of the grinning man. Cole gritted his teeth. Lucas Camp had no business prying into his life. He'd informed Cole at the warehouse that morning that he knew every thing about the coldhearted, relentless Cole Danes. That he knew what he'd done and that he'd better thank his lucky stars that his thirst for revenge hadn't harmed any innocent victims.
And then he'd taken one look at Cole's face as his man Logan brought Angel downstairs and he'd chuckled. Another jolt of fury slashed through Cole. Lucas Camp had known. Damn him, he'd known and there had been nothing Cole could say, for it was undeniably true.
He'd grown attached to Angel Parker. He closed his eyes and let go a weary breath. Damn he was tired. Despite a long, hot shower and a clean bandage on his healing wound, he felt exhausted. He'd gone days without sleep before, that wasn't the real issue. This unfortunate encounter with a bullet was certainly not the first time he'd been shot or otherwise injured. Cole's body had endured many kinds of pain. This nagging hurt felt profoundly foreign to him. Deep and grave. Not a mere wound of the flesh…but closer to the soul.
The wholly amusing part was, Cole considered as he stepped off the elevator into the lobby, all along he'd thought he didn't possess one. Along with a heart, he'd foolishly thought that only the weak lugged around such unnecessary equipment as a soul.
He crossed the parking lot and slid behind the wheel of his SUV. The tightness in his chest would not relent. The knot in his gut refused to relax. He felt empty, hollow.
Perhaps how he felt had more to do with having finished his work than with Angel Parker. He leaned back against the leather headrest. Not likely.
There was one last thing he had to do.
He fished out his cell phone and entered a number from memory. A number he hadn't called in nearly a decade. The fact that he remembered it al most surprised him.
"Hello."
The sound of his father's voice shook Cole in a way he hadn't anticipated. "Hello, Father," he murmured.
"Cole? My God, son, are you all right?"
Of course his father would think the worst. After all, what would one think when abruptly hearing from someone after eight years?
"It's done. Over. They're all dead." He didn't bother to explain, his father would understand.
The heavy sigh that preceded a lengthy silence proved telling. Relief combined with a hefty dose of trepidation.
"Son, you've got to let this go. Surely you can do that now," his father urged. "Your mother and I love you. We only want you to be happy. If sharing your life with us is too painful, we can accept that. What we can't accept is you turning your back on life. Please, please, get on with your life. Put this behind you."
Cole had long awaited this day—had thought numerous times of what he would say to his father, what his father would say to him. He had not expected such simple words to carry such a powerful impact.
"I'll be in touch."
Cole severed the connection, unable to say the rest of what burgeoned in his throat. I love you, too. I'll be seeing you soon.
He sat in the quiet of
the cold February morning, watched as an unforecast snow started to fall upon the Windy City.
The feeling of emptiness and uncertainty as to what should happen next faded. A kind of under standing took its place.
There was only one thing left for Cole to do.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Angel kissed her baby's forehead and covered her with a soft pink blanket.
A sigh of deep gratitude eased past her lips.
Her baby was safe at home in her own little bed. Her aunt was unharmed and as vivacious as ever, taking a much-needed vacation with the man she loved. All was as it should be. Life was good again.
Angel reached up and gingerly touched her sore shoulder. She would live.
The evil that had descended upon her life two years ago was gone, obliterated from existence.
By the man she loved.
Ironically, fate had given her that man and then taken him away in the same fell swoop. Cole Danes had walked away without looking back, without even asking if she was okay. But then, he knew she was.
Mildred always said she'd inherited the Parker stubborn streak. Angel would manage. The shoulder would heal and her heart would, as well. She'd been down this road once already. A smile slipped across her lips as she thought of Keith Anderson. He'd called twice this morning, had rushed to the hospital where she'd received treatment for her shoulder at the crack of dawn.
He was so cute and undeniably sweet.
But he was not Cole Danes.
She thought of the hard-hearted man who'd shown up at her house barely three days ago. Of how he'd threatened her life more than once when all along he would have risked his own to save hers in a heartbeat. His relentless, brutal reputation might be well de served, but it, apparently, had not extended to her.
Lucas Camp had warned her when she recovered from fainting—something she'd never done before in her life—not to worry about Danes. He was fine. And, he was gone. The only injuries incurred in the final shoot-out had been to Clark's men and to Angel. He didn't mention Cole having asked about her at all. Only that the mission was complete and he'd gone.
She closed the door to her baby's room and slumped against it. Her eyes drifted shut as she at tempted without success to rid her mind of those final images of that evil man. Clark's pilot had shot at her, hitting his target as well as warning his boss that someone had rushed up behind him.
