Gunning For Angels (Fallen Angels Book 1) (26 page)

You don’t develop courage by being happy in your relationships every day. You develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity.

–
Epicurus

Enid pushed Aunt Cheryl’s neatly hung socks out of her face. Hiding in the closet was more boring than she would have ever imagined – not to mention the strange “closet smell” tickling her nose to the point of threatening to force a sneeze out of her. Straining to hear, she struggled to make out what Jack and Sam were saying.

Something about last night…

She heard Sam telling Ernie to go to the backyard, which meant he’d be no help until he got back in or she got out.

Pinching her nose so that she wouldn’t sneeze, Enid crept out of the closet, determined to hear what Sam and Jack were saying. Heart pounding, she tiptoed down the hall until she came to the guest bathroom, which was as close as she could get to the living room. She kept the door cracked so she could hear them talking and stepped into the tub, pulling the shower curtain closed behind her.

Sam said, “How could you pull such a bone-headed move?”

“What the hell?” Jack said, “What do I know about taking care of a kid?”

“For starters, don’t send them undercover. Jesus, Jack, what were you thinking?”

Jack said, “I’ve checked the bus station, what’s
left
of my house, Jeni’s place – I don’t know where else to look.”

Enid wrinkled her brow, wondering what he meant by what’s “left” of his house?

“You need to talk to Detective Orlean,” Sam said.

Silence.

“Listen, Jack, this is beyond you not liking the guy. You put Enid – a kid –
your kid –
in a dangerous situation, and you need to do the right thing. Orlean is a good guy – a damned good detective – maybe he can help.”

There was a long pause. Jack said, “You think she really is my kid?”

Enid sank down in the tub, face flushing with anger.   

“Yeah, I do,” Sam said. “Don’t tell me – deep down – you never wanted a kid?”

“Never.”

Enid compressed her lips, tears stinging her eyes.

Sam said, “Whether she’s your kid or not – it doesn’t matter. You put her in that situation, you need to get her out.”

“I will get her out,” Jack said.

“Talk to Detective Orlean – or I will.”

“Jesus, Sam.”

“You put a kid in danger. Step up to the plate or I do it for you.”

“I told you that in confidence.”

“This isn’t a game, Jack. Your kid is out there alone – scared. From how she tells it, she was drugged, abducted and she may have killed somebody. If what she says is true, what if the guy she killed has friends and they come after her? God knows what she stepped into.”

The hairs on the back of Enid’s neck stood up. It never occurred to her that anyone would be hunting her. She thought of the gun hidden inside Jeni’s freezer and felt a desperate need to get it back in her hands.

Jack said, “I need to talk to Laura.”

“I’m not telling you what hospital she’s in.”

“She burned my house down, Sam.”

Enid sat up, shocked.

Who’s Laura?

The name rang a distant bell but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Jack said, “I need to talk to her.”

“Oh, good.
Talk.
I was afraid you might do something stupid like run her off the road into Madame Woo-Fucking-Woo’s Palm Reading Emporium.
She
,
by the way,
is
filing charges.”

“Your car. I’ll have it back by tonight.”

“Ain’t happening,” Sam said.

“Not telling me what hospital Laura’s at – is just slowing me down from finding Enid.”

“Call Orlean.”

Silence.

Sam said, “You call – or I will. Pick your poison.”

“Fine,” Jack said.

Enid listened as Jack left a message for Detective Orlean. Sam grudgingly gave him Laura’s location.

Sam said, “I thought you weren’t into the Daniel Hargrove murder case?”

“I don’t know what I’m into,” Jack said.

Enid heard the front door close and, moments later, a car drive away.

Sam let Ernie back in and Enid began plotting how to get Ernie to help her get the gun. The thought of bad guys coming after her made her blood run cold.

An hour later, Enid was back in the treehouse, wrapped in Ernie’s Sesame Street sleeping bag and gorged on Oreo cookies. She found herself letting out a series of gentle burps as she gripped the hammer that she swiped from Sam’s toolbox.

It wasn’t a gun but, in a pinch, it’d be weapon enough.

She felt a smug satisfaction at the thought of Jack being too stupid to figure out where she was. She imagined him worrying and desperate – unable to find her. A contemptuous smile curled her lips as she thought about how he never thought to ask Ernie any questions or search the house.

Doofus.

Her smile faded.

Jack was no fool. He would find her sooner or later – unless she outwitted him. She pulled the sleeping bag tighter in an attempt to rid herself of the emptiness in the pit of her stomach that even the Oreo cookies couldn’t fill – and she suspected had nothing to do with hunger. 

Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.

–
Mark Twain

For the hundredth time, Jack shuddered at the thought of Enid – trapped in the fire and him unable to get her out. As bad as it was that she ran away from the hospital, it was a thousand times better than her being home with him last night when his house burned to the ground. 

He’d find her.

Jack pinched his nose tiredly. Everything he owned was gone. He was going to have to start over with nothing – except for one disappeared pain-in-the-ass kid and a shitload of insurance hassle. 

He was so tired he could hardly think, and it didn’t occur to him till after he’d dropped Sam at the station and was driving off in Sam’s car that he’d never questioned Ernie or Cheryl. He should’ve asked them more questions about their visit to Enid. He
was wanting to go home and crawl into bed but – jarringly – kept remembering that he no longer had a home, or a bed.

He called the hospital, verifying that Laura was still there. He drove to Scottsdale Thompson Peak Hospital, which still had a “new car” smell in the plush lobby. The volunteer concierge, who looked to be about ninety, pointed a shaky finger to the elevators and, within what felt like moments, Jack found himself
in the hallway outside of Laura’s hospital room.

He stopped.

Laura lay in bed. She was partially blocked from his view by Eve’s graceful figure as Eve leaned in, intently listening to something Laura was murmuring.

Jack walked in.

Laura’s eyes darted past Eve and widened in fear. Eve jumped to her feet and spun toward him, hand outstretched. “Jack, it’s not what you think. You have to trust me.”

From behind him, a man’s voice said, “Well, this makes my task easier.”

A man whom Jack could only describe as “dapper” strolled to the foot of the bed, smiled down at Laura. 

“Detective Jenson,” he said with a smile.

Jack eyed him, curious. He had more the air of a host of a garden party than a Phoenix detective. 

Eve said, “Officer, there’s been a terrible misunderstanding.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Laura said, bursting into tears.

Eve said, “Laura thought I was at – ” 

“My house,” Jack said.

Detective Jenson said to Jack, “And you would be?”

Eve stepped forward, “Eve Hargrove. My sister, Laura. He doesn’t – ”

“Jack Fox,” Jack said, holding out his hand.

Jenson shook his hand, “Ah! So nice to meet you, Mr. Fox. You’re the private detective?”

Jack nodded, knowing that the police detective, if he was worth his weight in salt, which he obviously was, would know of him – and his dad.

“And w
ere you?” Detective Jenson asked Eve.

“What?” she said.

“At his house?”

“No. I wasn’t,” Eve said.

Jack shot her a look.

She can lie. 

Jenson said, “Is that right, Mr. Fox? Ms. Hargrove was not at your house last night?”

Eve said, “Laura thought I was with him but I wasn’t. She was worried about me – that’s all.”

“Why would she think that?” Detective Jenson said.

Eve hesitated. “She was under the impression I hired him.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

Jack’s jaw tightened. 

What is she playing at?

Jenson ticked off the list, “Arson, reckless endangerment, destruction of private property – ”

Eve said, “Laura thought I was with Mr. Fox, she was worried and went over and – she certainly didn’t set the fire. Jack started chasing her and – she panicked.”

Jenson gazed at her impassively. 

Eve said, “I’m personally guaranteeing restitution to all injured parties.” She pulled a card out of her purse. “This is my lawyer. He’ll be handling the restitution.”

Jenson turned to Jack, “May I call you Jack?” 

Jack felt the weight of Eve’s eyes on him, urging him to play along.

“Is there anything else?” Detective Jenson said.

“It’s like she said,” Jack said, startled to hear his words hang in the air, sharp and untrue. He looked away, certain his lies were as transparent as the air that separated him and Eve in the suddenly oppressive room.

“Excuse me,” Jack said, turning to leave. Before anyone could speak, he was out the door and, ignoring the elevators, he made his way to a stairwell, which let him out on the side of the hospital.

I’m not a liar.

A voice deep inside whispered, “Now you are.”

He felt a wave of self-loathing.

I don’t lie!

That same voice murmured, “Broken promises – they aren’t lies?”

With a curse, he spun around, determined to go back and set the detective straight.

He slammed into Eve.

It took him several moments of shock to register that she had remained so close behind him and yet so silent.

She was speaking but he didn’t understand what she was saying. His eyes followed the curve of her face, her lips. He didn’t want to believe that she would lie.

She looked like an angel.

He tried to tell himself that if she did lie, she would have a good reason – the lie would be for good, not bad.

“I had to – ” she said, her voice breaking through his jumbled thoughts.

He grabbed her arms, anger welling up, breaking over him.

“I lied for you,” Jack said.

“I’m sorry.”

He released her like she was poison, made his way to his car. 

Eve stayed hot on his tracks. “Laura’s sick! Ever since Daniel – I had to lie. After he got – after he disappeared – you have no idea! Journalists digging into our business – they hounded us. I’ve done everything – the best doctors – medications – she’s – mentally – ”

Jack unlocked the door but Eve jumped in front of him, blocking him.

“You can’t go – not till you understand – ”

Jack shoved her against his car, holding her at arm’s distance. “Did she set the fire?”

“I don’t know.” Eve gazed at him, miserable.

“Last night – where did you go?
Why
did you go?”

“I was worried. I knew…” Eve drew a ragged breath.

Jack examined her eyes, which shone with sincerity.

Or –
ice?

Jack said, “She’s done this before?”

“She wasn’t there when I left. You have to believe me. I would never lie to you.”

Jack grimaced as her fingers caressed his cheek. She kissed him softly on the lips.

He closed his eyes.

He didn’t kiss her back – he couldn’t. A need – too raw to be called desire – flamed up within him and the soft kiss transformed into something white hot and insatiable.

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

–Edgar Allan Poe

Bud was exhausted.

Chip was driving him home when Bud got a phone call from Larry, his AA buddy. After a brief conversation, Bud asked Chip to drop him off at a nearby coffee shop. 

“I’ll call you when I need you to pick me up,” Bud said.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” Chip said.

“Write a book.”

Grumbling, Chip cleared out and, as Bud waited for Larry to show, Bud checked his messages and was surprised to hear Jack Fox’s voice. Short and simple, Jack said he needed to talk in person. Bud called back, left a message for Jack to meet him at the coffee shop in one hour. He’d have to make sure to end the meeting with Larry within an hour, which wasn’t AA kosher but – it was what it was.

Larry showed up, his usual hangdog aura percolating with desperation as he described how his wife had threatened him with divorce and he was struggling against picking up the bottle.

Larry said, “I should have never married her – everyone told me not to – especially mother. But I took one look at those green peep-toe shoes tapping, tapp
ing – I couldn’t see her face – but I could tell she was gorgeous from the way men were looking at her as they passed. The whole train trip, me sitting behind her, I watched everyone’s face as they passed by her – men and women – and before we pulled into Philadelphia, I was in love.”

Bud sipped his coffee, thinking of Bunnie as Larry’s voice lulled on.

Larry said, “If she wasn’t cheating on me – ”

Bud looked up in surprise. “I thought she ended it?”

“She said they started up again – maybe she’s trying to make me jealous but, as God is my witness…” Larry’s words trailed off ominously.

Bud gave him a sharp look, “You own a gun?”

Larry gave a bitter laugh. “I’m not going to kill myself – or anybody else. I’d have to be a real man to do that.”

Bud shook his head. This was old territory and he was too tired to get lost in Larry’s endless landscape of self-loathing.

Bud said, “You still going to that therapist?”

Larry shook his head, glumly. “Deductible started over.”

Bud drank the last of his coffee, which wasn’t sitting well with the new pills.

Larry said, “Are you going to the meeting tonight?”

Bud shook his head. “Unless you need me to go.”

“No. But – can we hang out – until the meeting?”

Bud fought the urge to look at his watch. “Sure. I have someone meeting me here. Business. Would you mind…?”

“I can wait.”

“It shouldn’t take long.” Bud pressed his hand to his chest that suddenly felt like a mastiff was crouching on it.

“You don’t look so hot,” Larry said, eyeing Bud.

Bud struggled to catch his breath. He dug into his pouch that held his medications.

“Are you all right?” Larry said.

Bud fumbled through the pouch until he found the right bottle, which he had jokingly drawn a lightning bolt on since it was the one the doctor said would work the fastest. With shaking hands, he slipped the nitro pill under his tongue. Within minutes, he felt the mastiff’s weight easing and he breathed easier. 

Unsure, Larry watched and waited as Bud returned to normal. During the attack, Bud had waved away his offers to drive him to the hospital and, when he felt better, Bud haltingly told Larry about his newly acquired heart issues.

“Issues?”

Bud shrugged, made a face.

After a long silence, Larry said, “I don’t know, Bud. You ever think of retiring?”

Bud sighed wearily. He felt ancient – like a husk of the man he once was. He wanted nothing more than to go home and climb into bed with Bunnie. He
wanted to hear her rattle on about her day so he wouldn’t have to talk or think – he could just lie back and listen to her voice – like a lullaby.

Larry said, “How ‘bout I drive you home?”

Bud smiled gratefully and followed him to the door.

Bud stopped, remembering his meeting with Jack. He looked at his watch and was annoyed to see that the time to meet Jack had passed thirty minutes ago. Bud checked his cell and saw that Jack hadn’t called.

Larry said, “No show?”

Bud gave an irritat
ed shrug and they headed out. He sent Chip a text telling him he had a ride home and he was officially off-duty.

Once home, Bud was met with a stink-eye from Bunnie that would have blistered concrete. He waved away Chip’s concerned inquiries and went to the guest bedroom. He shut the door, kicked off his shoes and climbed in bed fully clothed. He muted his
cell and tossed it on the floor and fell into a fitful sleep.

Bud stood on the deck of an old-fashioned galleon that soared through the sky over Italy. They wouldn’t let him land but he had to get Bunnie to the ground where she would be safe. The buckles kept slipping as he struggled to get her fastened into a safety harness so he could lower her to the fields of Tuscany flowers. Her hair blew over her face so that he didn’t recognize her and his heart froze as he watched her buffeted in the onslaught of vicious winds as he lowered her from the belly of the ship.

He struggled with the rope, hands blistered and torn, warm blood streaming down the ropes, which ripped from his grasp. He fell back, terrified at what he’d done when a grinning Enid, hair whipping in the wind and strong as an ox with her giant bandaged hands that seemed to have superhuman powers – grasped the ropes and hauled Bunnie back on the ship.

“She’ll die!” he cried.

Bunnie sat on the deck, dazed. She was wearing her wedding gown, billowing out like sea foam. Enid pointed over his shoulder. Bud turned and was stupefied to see a mountain growing out of the ocean. The peak of the mountain ripped away as molten lava shot into the atmosphere, followed by flames and billowing black smoke that rolled toward their suddenly tiny and fragile ship.

From behind him, he heard Enid’s voice. “Mount Vesuvius. It’s the end of the world. We’re going to die.”

He turned back to her and her bandages were gone. She was wearing a red dress and a bloody bra dangled from her right hand. Dennie Dutter, his neck torn and crusted with blood, sat cheerfully playing cards with Bunnie, who gingerly moved her white dress from the blood running in a gush from his neck. 

Bunnie looked at Bud, smiling. “Go fish.”

“Go fish?” Bud said, confused.

The ship was shaking – breaking into bits.

“Bud!”

Bud’s eyes flew open. Confused, he stared into Bunnie’s face, which hovered over his.

Bunnie said, “Did you say go bitch? I
know
you didn’t tell me to go-bitch!”

Bud sat up, relief flooding through him. He put his hand to his racing heart and saw Bunnie’s face change to worry.

Bunnie said, “I knew it! You didn’t take your medication, did you? What am I – your personal ‘go-bitch’ nurse who has to chase you around and shove pills down your gullet because you – ”

“Bunnie.” He reached for her but she shoved his hand away. She dug into his medication pouch and found the right pills. Bud opened his mouth and she placed a pill on his tongue.  

Bud said, “I had a bad dream.”

“Go bitch?”

“Go fish.”

Bunnie gave him a skeptical look.

“I almost got you to safety, then I didn’t.” Bud wrinkled his brow, seeing Enid in her red dress as clear as if she was standing in the room. “Someone helped me save you – then – none of us were saved.”

“How’d we bite it?”

“Mount Vesuvius.”

“Italy? Were we retired?”

Bud laughed, wiped his sweaty brow. He gazed at her, visualizing her in her wedding gown. After a moment, he nodded to the medication pouch. “Thanks.”

“Well, somebody’s got to save somebody around here. Sure as hell doesn’t sound like it’s going to be me.”

As she turned to leave, Bud reached out, took her hand. “Stay.”

She hesitated, gently disentangled her hand from his. “Like you said: go bitch.”

Bud watched her leave with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn’t want to be alone. He thought about the dream and, as he slipped back to sleep, he had the vague notion that Enid was there, somewhere around the next corner.