Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno #4)(60)

The man was unfazed by the blow. He grabbed Gabriel by the shirt and threw him down, slamming him into the wall.

The man headed to the staircase but, as he passed, Gabriel grabbed his foot and twisted, bringing the man to his knees.

The man cursed in Italian and lashed out, striking Gabriel in the sternum.

Gabriel’s heart was caught midbeat. It shuddered and paused before beating irregularly. Gabriel fell back, clutching his chest.

The man stood and lumbered like a large bear down the hall.

Gabriel found he couldn’t move. He lay on his back, frozen, gazing up at the ceiling. He tried to draw breath.

“Gabriel?” Julia dashed from the bedroom, just in time to see the man disappear down the stairs.

“Clare,” Gabriel managed to rasp.

“Where is she? Did he take her?” Before Gabriel could answer, Julia ran to the nursery door and opened it.

From the doorway, Julia could see that Clare was still in her crib. Julia rushed toward her and touched the baby’s face. She stirred but didn’t wake.

“Thank God,” she breathed.

She ran back to her bedroom, picked up the cell phone, and dialed 911.





Chapter Forty-Six


Julia was glad Rebecca hadn’t been there to surprise the intruder. She was a light sleeper and awoke early some mornings. Thankfully, she’d left for Colorado the day before in order to spend the Christmas holiday with her children.

Julia was seated on the couch in the living room, holding a sleeping baby. She hadn’t wanted Clare out of her sight.

The Cambridge police were combing the house and the backyard. Gabriel was pacing nearby, having been checked and cleared by the paramedics. He’d been on his phone for the past hour.

Julia buried her face against Clare’s hair. She’d thought Gabriel was having a heart attack. He’d been pale and short of breath when she found him in the hallway. The color had returned to his face and now he was pacing like a caged lion, angry and frustrated. As if he’d roar at any moment.

Julia whispered a prayer of thanks that she still had a family and hugged Clare more tightly. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there before a pair of bare feet stood in front of her. (Parenthetically, it should be noted that even Gabriel’s feet were attractive.)

He hadn’t bothered to put on shoes and he was still wearing a pair of tartan flannel pajamas. He crouched next to her and placed a gentle hand on her neck. “Darling?”

He pushed her hair back from her face. “The company that installed the security system is sending someone immediately. According to them, the system is still armed. The intruder must have bypassed the alarm.”

“How is that possible?”

Gabriel’s face grew grim. “I don’t know.”

Julia rocked the baby, back and forth. “He didn’t take any jewelry. He didn’t even open the box.”

“Cash, passports, electronics, artwork—everything is still here. The police are dusting for fingerprints.”

“He was wearing gloves.”

Gabriel froze. “Did he touch you?”

“No,” Julia whispered. “When I woke up, I saw him holding the Holiday painting. I saw the gloves.”

“When I went upstairs, the painting was on the floor. The glass shattered.”

“He dropped it when I screamed.”

“But you’re all right?” Gabriel croaked. He reached a hand out to caress Clare’s head. “Clare is all right?”

“I don’t think he went into the nursery. The door was still closed and I hadn’t heard anything on the baby monitor.”

Gabriel passed a hand over his mouth. Things could have ended very, very differently.

“I’m sorry about the painting.”

Gabriel squeezed her knee. “Better the painting than you!”

Julia took his hand and tugged him to sit next to her. She leaned into his side, shaking.

He wrapped both arms around her shoulders. “You’re going to be fine. You’re going to be fine and Clare is going to be fine.”

“I thought he’d taken her.” A tear streaked down Julia’s face. “I thought you’d had a heart attack.”

“I was just winded. But I could use a shot of Laphroaig right now.”

“Me, too.”

“I’ll get you one.” He spoke against her skin.

“I don’t think nursing mothers are supposed to drink Laphroaig. But if I weren’t nursing, hell yeah I’d be drinking your campfire Scotch.”

It was not appropriate to laugh and Gabriel knew it. He held her close and restrained his laughter. “I don’t have any Laphroaig. But if you want a drink, I’ll get you one.”

“Maybe later.” The baby stirred against Julia’s shoulder.

“Do you want me to take her? She must be getting heavy.”

Julia shook her head. “I need to hold her.”

“Mr. Emerson?” A plainclothes detective approached him. “Can I see you for a minute?”

“Of course.” Gabriel kissed his wife and followed the detective into the kitchen.

Julia continued to rock back and forth, praying everything would be over soon. It was three o’clock in the morning and she wanted to go back to sleep. But not here, not with a disabled security system and the painting of Dante and Beatrice broken upstairs.