Arc Angel (20 page)

She located Officer Mellan a few feet further into the building. He knelt by a Hispanic man curled up on the floor. The man rubbed his head as he tried to answer the officer’s questions. Next to them lay a rumpled laundry bag and several pieces of rope. Kate didn’t know the man’s identity, but that was the only piece of the puzzle she hadn’t put in place.

She waited until Officer Mellan stood up and then walked over to him. She showed him her badge and asked, “What’s this guy’s story?”

“Juan Rodriguez, 45, a local cab driver. Lives over on the east side.”

“What’s he doing here?” Kate was genuinely puzzled.

“No idea. I got all that info from the contents of his wallet. He keeps babbling something in Spanish, and my language skills are pretty damn poor. I called in for a translator.”

Kate knew only a little Spanish herself, but figured it wouldn’t hurt to try. She crouched down beside the man and asked “¿Cómo estás?”

He looked up at her, eyes dilated and unfocused. Based on that and the giant lump on his head, she’d guess he had a concussion. Still, she tried again.

“¿Estás bien?”

She needed to know his connection to Miranda. A friend? He didn’t look like a relative, but you never knew.

“Mujer loca… relámpago....”

“Crazy lady… lightning? Yes, yes, I know. But why are you here? ¿Porqué estás aquí?”

“Manejo el taxi. I drive. I just drive.”

Kate sat back on her heels. He’d been Miranda’s cab driver. That was all. And he’d ended up here, tied up in a laundry bag, with two armed men.

Anybody could have figured out the identities of Miranda’s friends and family. But she didn’t have any. So they had to dig deeper. And it took skill to do that. Someone very clever, with excellent resources, had tracked this poor man down and used him as bait.

The only players in this game with that type of resources were Bryce Campion and Tech Corp. She’d gotten the sense that Campion was trying to help Miranda. Which meant she needed to look more closely at Tech Corp.

***

Mr. Brown watched the video for a third time.

When the screen changed to blue, he leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. Everything was falling into place.

He definitely wouldn’t need the team of specialists he’d contracted. The only thing he needed was Miranda.

The girl was perfect. Absolutely perfect. Capable of brute force, clever and able to think on her feet by using her environment creatively, and gutsy enough to enter the unknown without pause. Oh yes, she’d be able to handle every step of the plan with ease.

The only thing still missing was her cooperation. But the video had shown him the answer to that question as well. Miranda James had been willing to risk herself to save a man she barely knew. Imagine how cooperative she’d be if the stakes were higher.

Mr. Brown opened his e-mail. He believed in being as efficient as possible. The video, primarily meant as research, could play another role as well: leverage. Miranda James needed to be boxed in, and the video, sent to a few select recipients, would do just that.

Chapter 15

This time, Bryce didn’t wait until she woke up on her own. The minute the clock hit 7 a.m., he knocked on the door of her room, the same guestroom she’d stayed in last night, and pushed the door open. She looked so frail, her dark hair framing her pale face against the pillow. And it wasn’t just a physical fragility; her anxiety made her emotionally fragile as well. And yet less than 12 hours ago, this delicate woman had risked her life for a stranger.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Miranda, but I have something you need to see. Come down to the library as soon as possible.”

She didn’t seem as startled as she had yesterday morning, though her green eyes did widen a bit. She wiped away the traces of sleep from her eyes and nodded her assent.

He was sitting at the big wooden desk, waiting for her when she came into the room. He’d forced himself to sit down so that he couldn’t pace. But even as his body stayed immobile, his mind raced. This was all coming to a head, and far sooner than he’d thought it would.

Bryce motioned for her to take the chair he’d pulled up beside him, so they could both clearly see the laptop open on the desk. She perched on the edge of her chair, looking back and forth between him and the computer. She hadn’t even taken the time to brush her hair, though she had pulled her ever-present hoodie back on.

He wished she didn’t have to see this, wished he could shield her from it, but knew that she needed to watch it.

“I just want you to know that whatever happens, we’ll figure something out, okay? It will all be fine, Miranda.”

She didn’t say anything, but reached over and clicked Play on the video loaded onscreen. And she remained silent after she’d watched the whole thing.

The video showed her adventure last night at the dry cleaners. Though it had been shot from a stationary camera, it had still caught everything that had happened, clearly showing the men and their guns, and Miranda blasting them.

Her eyes still glued to the screen, she finally asked, “Where did you get this?”

“It was in my e-mail this morning, sent around 3 a.m. My personal e-mail, not the ones for business or fan mail. No message, just the attachment.”

Miranda whipped out her phone and checked her messages.

“I’ve got one too. Same time. But mine has a message.”

Bryce leaned over her shoulder to see the small screen.

Angel,

What a wonderful show you put on last night! Fortunately, I captured a recording of it, even though I didn’t get the chance to actually spend much time with you. We’ll have to try again. But I think I’ll keep the time and place to myself for now. Rest assured, I’ll be seeing you soon.

—Mr. Brown

P.S. I’ve sent this video to a couple of your friends. Perhaps if you’re more cooperative at our next meeting, I won’t need to send it to anyone else.

“Oh god, who else did he send it to?” Miranda whimpered.

“Judging from what Matthews saw at your apartment building this morning, I’d guess the police. There were two squad cars and another vehicle Matthews figured belonged to a detective.”

“That doesn’t necessarily prove anything. I found out yesterday that I’m a person of interest to the Elder’s Grove PD. Nothing to do with Arc Angel,” she hurried to assure him, “at least not directly. I’ve been accused of breaking into Tech Corp. Which, I might add, I did, but with the permission of the company’s CFO, though I no longer have the documentation to prove that. Interesting timing, isn’t it?”

She sounded like she was discussing the current mild weather, but she gripped her fingers so tightly her knuckles whitened. Bryce decided to not point it out, for now at least, and returned to the problem at hand.

“So maybe it didn’t get sent to the police. But it may have gone to the TV stations, or at least WIMT, since Matthews saw one of their trucks there, staking out the place, probably waiting for you.”

Miranda dropped her head into her hands and groaned. “I’m sure the minute Gavin Brooks gets his hands on it, he’ll broadcast it instantly.”

She looked so stricken, Bryce automatically started to reach over and pat her shoulder, to console her. But he froze in mid-air. He didn’t know where they stood after yesterday’s back and forth, and he didn’t want to risk alienating her.

Miranda jerked her head up, and he yanked his hand back to his lap. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Wait a second! If Brooks had the video, he’d play it, right?”

Bryce nodded.

“But you haven’t seen it online or on the news, have you?”

Bryce shook his head. “No. I looked before I woke you up. I haven’t seen it, and WIMT already ran its first morning show, with a piece by our friend Gavin Brooks, I might add. A lovely story on termites. I can’t imagine that he would have thought that termites were more interesting than a real live superhero.”

“So he might not have it!” Miranda beamed at the possibility, a hint of a dimple showing in her left cheek. But an instant later her face fell. “But then why is a WIMT truck in front of my apartment, if he doesn’t have the video?”

Bryce thought about it.

“Has he been in contact with you again?”

Miranda picked up her phone from where it had fallen in her lap.

“Let me see.” She tapped at the keys. “Ah, here we have an e-mail from Detective O’Hara, at 3:06 a.m. Ouch, that can’t be good. She says, could I please get in touch with her as soon as possible. Wonder which crime that’s in reference to?”

Bryce’s heart hurt for her. She was trying to be so brave, hell she
was
so brave; she shouldn’t have to deal with all this crap.

Miranda scrolled further. “And here’s one, two, three voicemails from Gavin Brooks, Ace Reporter. They start at 3:15, with the most recent one coming in just before 6.” She set her phone on the table and hit the speakerphone button and then Play.

Gavin’s overly bright tones tinkled through the tinny speakers. All three messages had basically the same content: Gavin had received what he coyly referred to as a “special present,” and wanted Miranda to comment on it.

The third message ended, and they both sat there, looking at the phone.

“That was weird,” Bryce said.

“What do you mean? He’s badgering me to talk to him, like he always does. As if I ever would, what with him breaking into my apartment and everything.”

“There wasn’t anything weird about what he said. What’s weird is what he didn’t say.”

Miranda quirked an eyebrow at him.

“He never once said that he planned to broadcast the video. It’s perfect leverage, and he didn’t even try to use it. Not yet anyway.”

“Okay, you’re right. That is weird. Then again, that’s basically par for the course for my life these days.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

“What am I going to do, Bryce? I thought if I went to the meeting last night I might be able to stop all of this somehow. Instead I may have k-k-killed two men.” She blinked back tears. “And now I find out someone recorded the whole thing and sent it to people I want n-n-nothing to do with. And I can’t go back to my a-a-apartment and…” Her voice caught and broke.

Fight or no fight, Bryce couldn’t stop himself from reaching over and taking her hand. She tensed for a minute, but then relaxed and clung to him.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do, but I already told you, we’ll figure something out.”

She didn’t look convinced.

“First of all, your apartment. No, you can’t go back there now, you’re right. But I had Matthews sneak in and grab what you’d moved across the hall. It’s up in your room. I know it’s not ideal, but at least you’re safe, and you have the necessities.”

She tried to smile, but a tear slipped out of her eye and rolled down her cheek.

“Oh, Miranda, love, don’t cry.” Bryce reached up and wiped away the tear. He cupped her face in his hand, tipping her head until she looked at him.

Pain filled her big eyes. This poor brave, fragile girl. He wanted to make it all go away, make her forgot her troubles.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll help you, I promise,” he said.

He brushed his thumb across her quivering lower lip, but that wasn’t enough. He lowered his head to hers, and his lips skimmed across hers. She flinched, and he instantly pulled away.

“I’m sorry, Miranda, I—”

She reached up and covered his lips with her fingers. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”

He studied her face, seeing that the pain had been replaced by something that looked like hope.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her, as light as a raindrop on a flower petal. She didn’t retreat, but she stayed perfectly still under his touch. He wanted more. His lips touched hers again, slanting open slightly, capturing her mouth before moving away again.

He slid his hand around to the nape of her neck and drew her closer, his lips moving over hers with ever-increasing pressure. Finally she relaxed enough that her mouth softened and opened for him.

His tongue darted inside, lightly tangling with hers. She shivered under his touch, whether from fear, desire or both, he didn’t know. Suddenly, just touching her mouth wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted to feel all of her.

He slipped his arms under her legs and pulled her out of her chair and onto his lap. She gave a little squeak, but hesitantly wrapped her arms around his neck and scooted close against him. He barely noticed her slight weight, but he definitely noticed the way her body felt as she snuggled against him and how her hair smelled like honeysuckle as it brushed against his neck.

He kissed her again, this time moving from her mouth to her ear and raining kisses down her soft neck. She murmured her pleasure.

God, he loved the feel of her smooth skin against his lips. But she always kept herself so damned covered up, hiding her luscious softness. He wanted, needed, more. Bryce reached for the hem of her ever-present sweatshirt and, before she even had a chance to realize what he was doing, tugged it up over her head.

She gasped and tried to hunch into her shirt, as she often did, but her fitted black t-shirt wasn’t up to the job. It clung to her small curves, defining her delicate shape. Bryce gently unwound her arms from her chest and kissed each hand before putting them back around his neck. He coaxed her back into his kiss and slipped his hands under the edge of her shirt, letting his fingers glide along the skin of her lower back.

She shivered again, but slid even closer to him. The friction against his pelvis sent a rush of arousal through Bryce, and he slid one hand around to Miranda’s chest, reaching up to graze his fingers against her nipple. She moaned deep in her throat and the sound went straight to Bryce’s groin, making him rock hard. Her breath came in fast little gasps now, and he could feel her heart pounding against his hand. Because of him.

A deep sense of male satisfaction ran through him. He was the cause of her arousal. His heart beat in time with hers, racing faster and faster… no. Dammit. His heart.