Angel on Fire (15 page)

“I know that someone killed my dad,” Angela snarled.  “Since you’ve changed the subject, maybe we should talk about what we’re going to do about Dad’s murder!”

“Set that aside for the moment, babe.”  He closed his eyes, and Angela wondered if he was running out of patience.  “We need to figure out what everyone is looking for and where your dad hid it first.”

“How do we even know he took it?  Whatever it is!  Everyone keeps insisting he stole this thing.  Dad wasn’t a thief.”  Angela narrowed her eyes.  When he met her gaze calmly, she stomped over to the window.

“Say he wasn’t.”  He stopped and held up his hand when her eyes cut angrily to his.  “Let’s assume that he took the item
to safeguard it.  Where would he have hidden it?”

“How would I know?”  She tossed her hands in the air, frustrated by the situation and his persistent questions.

“Well, who would he have trusted with it?”  Chase probed.  “Come here, Angel.”  He patted the spot next to him on the bed.  “Come here and talk to me.  I can’t do this without you.” 

Angela paced back and forth for a few minutes.  It took only five steps to reach the other side of the room.  Chase waited patiently until she flopped onto the bed next to him and buried her face in a pillow.  “I don’t know, Chase.  I just don’t know.”  Her voice was muffled, but her frustration came through loud and clear. 

Chase hauled her onto his chest and kissed her forehead.  “You know more than you think.  Just talk out what you know.” 

“Okay, so Daddy went to work – I think – in Boston.  He called Uncle Zach that day.  But from what you’ve said, Zach didn’t call him back.”  She glanced at Chase and he nodded, agreeing with what she’d said so far.  “Sometime before he….”  She paused and cleared her throat.  “Died, he arranged to have my birthday present engraved.   Then he collapsed on the sidewalk.”  Angela stopped, gathering her thoughts.     

“How did he make the arrangement for the engraving? 
In person or via phone?”
 Chase threaded his fingers through her curls and massaged her scalp. 

Angela leaned into his touch.  “He stopped at the jewelers. 
J & J Jewelers to be exact.
  It’s in Boston.  I spoke to the owner.”  She paused, recalling the conversation with Mr. Jenkins.  “He didn’t think Dad acted out of the ordinary; he was just in a hurry.  Apparently, he changed his mind about having my present engraved.” Shrugging slightly, she reached up and toyed with her necklace.  “I know something’s going on with Derrick since Dad bought out his share of Investigations, Inc.  I found the papers showing the dissolution in a floor safe in Dad’s office.  When I confronted Derrick, he denied it, claiming Dad just loaned him money.  I didn’t get a chance to ask him what he needed the money for.  That was the day we met.  Remember, Derrick and I
were
arguing on the porch?” 

Chase nodded, his body tensing when she mentioned the argument with Derrick.  “Zach was supposed to look into Derrick, but I have no idea what he found, if anything.  So if Mac couldn’t reach Zach and he doesn’t trust Derrick, who would he reach out to?  Who would he trust with something important?” 

Angela sighed in response to Chase’s question.  She wondered the very same thing.  “Normally, I’d say me, but I didn’t get anything.”  She jolted upright and turned to look down at Chase.  “I haven’t been home!  I went straight from the office to the airport when I got the call about Dad.  What if he sent it to my apartment?” 

Her face fell when Chase shook his head.  “It’s not likely, babe,” he advised.  “Your apartment has probably been tossed several times by now so I doubt whatever we are looking for was there.  But it might be worth a trip to DC to make sure.” 

Several hours later, Angela woke, her gun digging into her back as she reclined against the leather seat.  She struggled to open her heavy eyes, panicking when she realized that the driver’s seat was empty.  She reached over and placed her hand on the still warm seat.  She blew out a breath, relaxing even more when she spied Chase jogging toward the car. 

“Good nap, babe?”  He drove around the back of the faded, yellow building. 

“Hmmm.”
  Her face paled as she noticed the skimpily dressed woman leaning against a nearby car.  “What are we doing here?”

“Spending the night.”
 His tone was neutral as if staying at this kind of hotel was an ordinary occurrence. 

Angela shot him a dirty look.  “Why here?”

“Because it takes cash and doesn’t ask for ID.  Since rooms can be rented by the hour, the turnover is high enough that we won’t be remembered.  The clerk thinks we’re just another cheating couple.” 

“By the hour?” she squealed.  “You mean?  Yuck!”  Grimacing, she shuddered involuntarily.  “You want me to sleep on sheets that someone might have….”

Chase threw back his head and released a bark of laughter.  “I hate to break it to
you,
babe, but people have sex in hotels, even the Four Seasons.”

“I know that, but they change the sheets at the Four Seasons.  Somehow, I’m not sure that’s included here.”  Angela glared at the dilapidated two-story structure before gathering her things while grumbling under her breath about roaches and filthy sheets.  “You do know that I have a nice, clean apartment in DC, right?” 

“Yes,” he acknowledged, unlocking the battered door.  “I’m sure the feds are watching your apartment.  We’d be easy pickings if we showed up there at night while the streets are quiet.”  After inspecting the room, Chase tossed the bags on the bed.  “Why don’t you take a shower?  I’m going to head out and pick up a few things.  I’ll bring back something to eat, okay?” 

“Wait!”  Angela grabbed his arm.  “You’re leaving?”  Her blue eyes widened with alarm.  “Y-you’re leaving me here? 
Alone?
  Here?” 

Chase cupped her face in his hands and placed a soft kiss on her lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement.  “Lock up behind me and take your gun into the bathroom when you shower.”

“Fine,” she grumbled as he opened the door.  She immediately slid the chain in place and leaned against the door. 

She grimaced in distaste when she stepped into the old, worn bathroom.  The tub was gray instead of white and the linoleum floor was cracked.  She sniffed the towels on the rack.  Both were dry and smelled clean at least.  After
unwrapping
the small, travel size bar of soap, she turned the handle, adjusted the water temperature, and prayed that hot water would flow.  As soon as lukewarm water dribbled from the showerhead, she hopped over the ledge and immersed herself, scrubbing her body thoroughly before trying to tackle her hair with only a small bar of soap.  All too soon, the water turned cold, and she rinsed as quickly as possible.  Wrapping her hair in one small towel and her body in the other, she made her way into the main room and stopped short. 
Shit!  What am I going to do for clothes?  The ones I was wearing are dirty, and nothing’s worse than dirty panties. 
Grabbing her underwear, she used the bar of soap to wash them before hanging them over the shower curtain rod to dry. 

With a smile, she pondered the idea of greeting Chase wearing nothing more than a small, threadbare towel.  I
t’s not a good idea
, she reminded herself. 
But it sure would be fun,
her subconscious argued. 
You know what they say about all work and no play. Come on, Angela.  You really should take a walk on the wild side.

Shaking off her impure thoughts, Angela considered wrapping herself in the bed sheet but quickly dismissed the idea.  The banging and groaning from the room next door reminded her that the sheets might not be the cleanest choice.  She chewed on a fingernail as she eyed Chase’s duffle bag.  She unzipped the bag and withdrew a
Glock
, a Sig Sauer, bullets, several feet of rope, plastic fisticuffs, and two pair of handcuffs.
 What in the world is he prepared for?  An enemy attack?  Oh, right.  That’s probably pretty accurate in his case.  I wonder what he really does.  And how much danger he’s in. 

At the very bottom of the bag, she located two clean t-shirts, one black and one army green, two pairs of boxers, a button down shirt, a pair of jeans and a pair of khaki pants along with several pairs of socks.  She slipped on the green t-shirt while contemplating the boxers in her hand.  Wearing his underwear was a little too personal.
  S
he tugged on the hem of the shirt making sure it covered her bottom. 
As long as I don’t bend over,
she warned herself,
I should be okay. 
A rap on the door interrupted her internal debate, and she stuffed the boxers back into the bag. 

“Angel, let me in,” Chase rasped.

After checking the peep hole, Angela removed the chain and opened the door.  A wide smile spread across Chase’s face as he noticed her attire. 

“You look good in my shirt, babe,” he noted, setting the bags down before pinning her against the foot of the bed between his legs.  Nudging the too-wide shirt to the side, he pressed kisses along her collarbone. His other hand toyed with the hem of the shirt before sliding his hand up the outside of her thigh.  “What’s under here?” he murmured against her skin. 

“Nothing,” she whimpered, rubbing her center against his thigh.  His mouth descended upon hers, his tongue delving deep and tangling with hers as he devoured her.  Moments later, he pulled back slightly, his palms still caressing her bare ass as he rained butterfly kisses across her rosy face.  Panting heavily, she opened her eyes, gazing at him searchingly.  He pulled her to him gently, just holding her for a moment, and it hit her that he was just as affected by the attraction as she was.

“I brought food, babe,” he murmured against her curls.  He dropped a final kiss on the top of her head before stepping away.  While she stood staring at him in a lust induced stupor, he smiled, swatted her on the butt, and ordered, “Time to eat.”  When she collapsed onto the bed, he chuckled and handed her a Styrofoam box.  Her nose picked up the smell of fried foods and she grinned. 
“Hamburgers and fries?”
 

“And chocolate shakes.”  He passed her a large cup with a pink straw. 
“Figured you could use some happy food.”
 

“Yum!”
  She sucked hard making a slurping sound with the straw.  Digging through the bag Chase had set on the dresser, Angela removed several salt and ketchup packets.  After creating a pool of ketchup, she doused her fries in salt. 

“Shit, Angel, do you always use that much salt?”  Chase watched her devour her dinner.

Her head bobbed up and down as she swallowed. 
“Only on fries.”
  As he watched her mouth suck on the straw, Chase shifted.  Angela hid a smile, suspecting his mind had wandered.  His eyes smoldered, and he stepped toward her.  When she released the straw and lifted her head, he leaned down and removed a small amount of chocolate from the corner of her mouth with his thumb.  Angela gasped, her eyes held captive by his dark green ones.  Time seemed to stand still until she leaned forward and sucked his thumb into her mouth. 

Chase’s eyes darkened, and he yanked her against his chest, his lips devouring hers with bruising force as his tongue plunged inside her mouth.  Angela tasted chocolate and salt and something uniquely Chase as her arms snaked around his neck and tangled in his hair.  Without removing his mouth from hers, Chase pushed her back onto the bed before following her down.  Her hands tangled in his hair as his mouth plundered hers.  When he released her lips to trail kisses along her neck and collarbone, her hands slipped under his shirt to caress the taut muscles. 

“God, Angel,” he groaned, sliding a hand under the t-shirt she wore to stroke her warm, soft skin.  His hand palmed her breast, kneading gently before his thumb brushed her nipple.