Dying to Kill (Angel Delaney Mysteries Book #2) (29 page)

Angel dropped off Rachael at the church and headed toward the bank. She was just getting out when she heard a gunshot. It thunked into the flower box above her head. She dove to the sidewalk as another shot bit into her arm.

In utter disbelief, Angel rolled to her side and grabbed for her arm, pressing against the searing pain. Someone nearby revved up an engine and sped away. An eerie silence followed the gunshots. Angel fought off the all-too-familiar images and ensuing panic and struggled to her knees.

Then voices. And in the distance, sirens. A young man ran out of the bank and knelt beside her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Angel ran a shaking hand through her hair. “I think so.”

The man had dark hair and kind blue eyes. He wore a denim shirt and jeans and cowboy boots. “You’re bleeding.”

Angel glanced at her hand still pressed against the wound. She held the hand out in front of her, watching the blood drip to her jeans. She lifted her blurred gaze to the stranger. “I guess I am.”

“Don’t try to get up. The police are on the way; so is an ambulance.”

The last thing Angel remembered before losing consciousness was Nick’s concerned face. “Why couldn’t you have listened to me? You just had to go and get yourself shot, didn’t you?”

As if getting shot was her idea. “Thanks, Nick. I love you too,” she murmured as the EMTs strapped her onto the stretcher.

TWENTY-EIGHT

S
he awoke in the emergency room, smelling anesthetic and seeing bright lights that hurt her eyes.

“Welcome back.” The same man from in front of the bank stood over her, only he was wearing a white coat and smiling. A stethoscope hung around his neck. His hands were hidden by a green paper. “I hear you’re an Angel. I’ve never stitched up an Angel before.”

“Just my name.” She must have already gotten something for pain, as her words slurred and her mouth didn’t seem capable of following orders.

He chuckled. “I’m Doctor McMahon. Thought I’d finish what I started.”

“So I really got hit?” She couldn’t feel the pain any longer, only a slight tug.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said. “The bullet took a nice little chunk out of your deltoid. Skimmed off some muscle, but it looks clean. You lost a fair amount of blood—nicked an artery, but you’ll live.”

His bloodied, gloved hand rose up over the green paper, along with the curved needle he was holding.

“How many stitches?”

“Oh, a dozen or so.”

“Did you see who shot me?”

“Sorry. I was in the bank. Thought for a while we were being held up. The first shot had everybody on the floor. I don’t think anybody actually saw anything, but the police are questioning people up and down the street. I heard a car take off, and when I got up I saw you. Told everyone else to stay put, and I ran out to check on you.”

Angel closed her eyes. “Thanks.”

“You’re more than welcome.” He held up the needle again and snipped the thread. Looking past her he said, “A couple four-by-fours and some cling wrap should do it.”

Angel tipped her head back. A woman in green scrubs tore open the bandages and held the package open so he could take them. She gave Angel a smile.

“So tell me, who’d want to shoot a nice girl like you?” the doctor asked.

“Humph. I wish I knew.”

After dressing the wound, Dr. McMahon stripped off his gloves and went to the sink to wash his hands. Looking over his shoulder, he told the nurse, “Go ahead and get her cleaned up.”

To Angel he said, “You can go home, but no pull-ups for a few days. I want to see you in my office in a week to ten days to take out the stitches. You can shower if you cover the dressing with cling wrap and promise not to get it wet. You’ll get an instruction sheet and a prescription for pain pills if you need them. Take it easy today. Rest.” He smiled. “Of course, I doubt that will be a problem. Your boyfriend told me he wasn’t letting you out of his sight.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Detective Riley. At least I assumed he was your boyfriend. He’s waiting outside.”

Angel didn’t comment one way or the other. She thanked the doctor and nurse and let them assist her into the wheelchair. When the nurse wheeled her through the automatic doors into the waiting room, Callen stopped pacing.

“I’m taking you home,” he said. “To my place.”

The look on Callen’s face told Angel he wasn’t taking no for an answer, and Angel had no energy to argue.

Callen blamed himself for not taking the threat more seriously. Blamed himself for leaving it to the shorthanded Sunset Cove police to deal with the mysterious Dragonslayer. He’d been interviewing the mechanics at Mitch’s Auto Body regarding the supposed stolen car when he got the call from Nick. “Angel’s been shot,” Caldwell had said. “Thought you’d want to know.”

He’d practically flown to the hospital, even after Nick had told him it wasn’t life threatening. “A few stitches and she’ll be fine.”

Thank God for that. What upset him most was that the shots could have been fatal. He’d beaten himself up over and over again, but the moment the doors opened and the nurse pushed Angel through, Callen’s heart turned to mush. He had no time for ruminations and self-loathing. He had to focus on one thing—keeping Angel safe. On the drive to the hospital and in the waiting room, he’d made all the arrangements. He’d reassured Anna that Angel was fine and he’d be taking her home. Anna blessed him and said she’d let the others know. They’d be over later in the afternoon to see her.

It was all settled, and he was more than pleased with his efficiency until he saw Angel’s face. Something had changed. Her obvious displeasure at seeing him may have just been the pain medication and loss of blood, but he didn’t think so. Of course there was the argument, but he thought they’d resolved that.

She was in his car now, and still she hadn’t said anything. She’d tilted the seat back and had fallen asleep. Maybe that was best for now. He drove her home and parked beside a Lexus.

“New car?” Angel asked as they pulled in the driveway.

“My sister’s. She’s here for a few days.”

“Oh.” Angel reached for the car door and winced. The pain medication must have been wearing off.

“Hold on.” Callen jumped out and ran around to the passenger side of his SUV and pulled open the door. “You’re supposed to be resting that arm.”

She bit into her lower lip. “Thanks for the reminder.”

The door opened to Callen’s house, and Mutt shot out, followed by the redhead. She was even prettier up close. The beautiful woman who had given her so much grief was his sister. Angel felt ridiculous, glad she hadn’t made a complete fool out of herself by confronting Callen about his mysterious woman.

“Mutt, you come back here.” Kath ran after him.

Her command fell on deaf ears as Mutt made a beeline for Angel.

“Hey, boy,” Angel crooned down at him. “Did you miss me?”

“Obviously.” Kath sidled up to the car and scooped the dog into her arms. “I’m Kath. It’s so nice to meet you.” She stepped back. “Wish it were under different circumstances, though.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Angel managed to say.

“Let’s get you inside.” Callen slid his arms around Angel’s back and under her legs, lifting her out of the car and into his arms.

“I can walk.”

“You’re weak. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Angel didn’t argue. Truth be told, she doubted her legs would hold out for more than a few seconds.

Callen deposited her on the bed in his room. “Kath’s using the guest room. I’m sleeping on the couch,” he said before she could even protest.

“This isn’t necessary. I can just go home.”

“Yes, it is. You can’t be home alone. You can’t stay at your mother’s. She’s in no condition to help you. Kath volunteered to help me take care of you and—”

“That’s that.” Kath squeezed in front of her brother. “No arguments, young lady.” She turned around and poked a finger in Callen’s chest. “You, go back to work. Catch that killer before he abducts another victim.”

“But—”

“Angel will be fine.”

Callen frowned. “I’m sorry, Angel. She’s right. I have to get back to the body shop and finish interviewing those guys.” He moved in front of his sister and kissed Angel’s forehead. “You’d better do as she says or she’ll beat you up.” He grinned and
ducked away as Kath punched his shoulder. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

When he’d gone, Kath tucked Angel in and brought her a glass of water with a straw. “I’ll let you sleep for a while and bring you something to eat when you’re up to it.”

“Hmm.” Angel relaxed against the pillows. Mutt jumped up on the bed, circled once, and sat down, resting his chin on her leg.

“Come on, Mutt. Leave her alone.” Kath reached for the dog.

“He’s fine.” Angel smiled. “Probably worried about me.”

“I’m sure he is.” She stroked his head. “From what Callen has told me, you’ve been through a lot. Losing your father and now this.” Kath stood there a moment watching her. “My brother really cares about you.”

“I know.”

“I mean, he
really
cares.”

If there was a hidden meaning behind her words and the protective expression on her face, it was probably something like,
I hope you’re worth it.

Angel slept for what seemed like two minutes; the clock indicated it had been two hours. She awoke to see her mother clucking over her and thanking Kath. Anna seemed to be moving her arm more freely and showed Angel a bright blue cast that ran from just above the elbow to the middle of her hand. “This is my fault, Angel. I shouldn’t have sent you looking for Douglas. I should have told Debra you were too busy.”

“Ma.” Angel sighed and lifted her uninjured arm to grasp her mother’s good hand. “It’s not your fault or Debra’s. The only person to blame is the guy who shot me.”

Kath brought in a cup of chicken broth with a straw. “Thought you might want this. Your mother brought it.”

“Ma, you’ve got a broken arm—what are you doing in the kitchen?”

“I took it from the freezer,” she said. “I always make extra and store it just for times like this.”

Angel moved to sit up when an unexpected wave of nausea washed over her. “I don’t think I’d better eat anything right now.” She leaned back into the pillows. “Maybe later.” Mutt whimpered as if feeling her discomfort and snuggled a bit closer.

Anna questioned Kath about the pain medication and asked her to bring in a basin in case Angel needed to throw up. Kath let her know she had everything covered. Angel just closed her eyes again and waited for the nausea to pass.

Kath and Angel were alone the next time Angel woke up. She groggily made her way to the bathroom with Kath holding on to her good arm. From there she insisted on going into the living room. “I can’t believe a flesh wound could cause so much trouble. It hardly even hurts.”

“I imagine the pain medication is making you woozy. I could make you a piece of toast.”

Angel nodded. “That sounds good. I’d better try some of my mom’s soup too.”

Angel managed to eat and felt better but was too tired to stay up. “Good thing I didn’t try to go home by myself.”

Kath smiled. “Somehow I don’t think your family or Callen would have let that happen.”

Angel yawned and with Kath’s help made her way back to bed. Kath adjusted the pillows and headed out of the room.

“Would you mind staying for a while?” Angel asked.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“No, I mean here. Talk to me.” She moved her legs to give Kath room to sit down.

“What about?”

“Tell me about you and Callen and your family.”

Kath did. Angel liked hearing her voice as she told of her husband and teenage daughters and how they’d given her the gift of a week at the beach with Callen. How she was Callen’s older sister and often felt more like a mother. How their own parents had been into drugs and alcohol and how they’d lived most of their lives with their grandparents.

Kath talked about Callen’s marriage and how hard he’d taken Karen’s death. All in all, she painted Callen as the caring, sensitive, loving man Angel knew him to be. Not the angry man she’d caught a glimpse of Friday night.

The following morning, Angel awoke to the tantalizing smell and the sizzling sound of bacon. Voices coming from the kitchen reminded her that she was still in Callen’s house.

“Did you get anywhere with your interviews yesterday?” Kath asked her brother.

“Right now I’m just weeding out the people who didn’t kill Christy. The car’s owner has an ironclad alibi. He was here in Sunset Cove the entire time. Same goes for his employees. Looks like none of them did it. I’m still looking at Mitch’s two youngest sons.”

Angel grimaced with pain as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

“Better see if our guest is ready to eat,” Callen said. “I think I hear her stirring around in there.”

Kath appeared in the doorway. “Need some help?”

“Maybe.” Angel stood still for a moment, waiting for the room to sway, and when it didn’t she ventured forward. “I think I’m okay.”