Chances Are(11)

“Without a doubt, I can do the job.”

Samara regarded her for several seconds. Angela withstood the look, knowing her friend would make the assessment regardless of their relationship. Finally, she nodded and said, “I’ll tell Noah you’re ready.”

“I thought it would be tougher to convince you.”

“I’ve watched you deal with a grief that would debilitate many people. Our talk today was more formality than an evaluation.”

Angela breathed out a relieved sigh. Samara had been her last hurdle and though she hadn’t worried she could convince her she was ready, to know that her friend had that kind of faith in her increased her confidence even more. Now she would go home and prepare. Jake had said if things went well with Samara, they would leave tomorrow afternoon for London.

“So I’ll see you when I get back.”

For the first time, Samara’s worry showed. Holding out her arms for a hug, she said, “Don’t take any chances. Okay?”

Reaching down to her petite friend, she returned the embrace. “Don’t worry. Your husband trained me well.”

“I hope you can be home for Micah’s birthday party. He would be so disappointed if he didn’t get to see his favorite aunt on his special day.”

“That’s four weeks away. I’ll be back before then I’m sure.”

She could feel Samara’s eyes on her as she walked out the door. A shiver of apprehension zipped up her spine. For the first time, a ripple of doubt entered her head. Was she being stupid? Should she tell Noah she would sit this one out and take another, less dangerous mission? She instantly knew the answer. She could do this job.

Now having Jake Mallory as a partner? That was a completely different matter.





Chapter Six

Two days later

London, England

“You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet if you don’t stop pacing.”

“I don’t see why we can’t go out. He hasn’t seen me yet.”

“No, and he doesn’t need to see you.”

“I thought that was the whole plan.”

“It is the plan, when the time is right.”

When she blew out an explosive sigh, Jake said patiently, “Look, we know he likes a type, with a certain occupation. If he’s roaming around and sees you today, he might not take the bait if he sees you again at the club. The man might be certifiably insane but he’s not stupid. He’s got to know the police are going to use undercover people to try to trap him. If he suspects anything at all, we’ll have to start all over again.”

He was right, but she was going stir-crazy. Jake had been sitting in that chair for over two hours, reading. She’d always thought a man who read was incredibly sexy, so watching a man she already thought was sexy read a book didn’t help. And when he’d put his reading glasses on? She’d almost drooled.

She had brought her own books but hadn’t cracked one open. Concentrating in such close proximity to Jake was impossible. She told herself she could leave the room, even leave the apartment. They had rented the apartment attached to this one, too. That way if the killer began stalking her, he would believe she lived alone. There was a door inside the apartment that led to the other one. She could go there and get away from him. So why the hell didn’t she?

Ignoring the silent, damning question, she asked aloud, “What time is our meeting with the club owner?”

Without looking up from the page, he answered, “Six o’clock.”

She headed to the miniscule kitchen. “Want something to eat?”

Hearing a heavy sigh, she turned to see that he’d finally put his book down and taken his glasses off. That didn’t help because now that single-minded focus was concentrated solely on her.

“What’s the real problem?”

“I’m just anxious to get started.”

“Are you nervous about your undercover role? If you are, we can change it. Since we’re meeting with the club owner, all you have to do is tell him you want to do something else. You could be a waitress like Riley. You don’t have to dance.”

Riley and Justin would be working in the club, too. Riley would be waiting tables and Justin was the new bouncer. Having them as additional protection gave her a deeper feeling of security. And though Riley was more petite than his preferred victim, Angela knew the operative would play a role in hopes of attracting the killer.

“Angela?” Jake broke into her musings. “Want to change your cover?”

She shook her head. Was she nervous about taking her clothes off in front of dozens of drunken men? Of course she was. She wasn’t shy about her body but neither was she used to flaunting it nakedly to strangers either. That three of those people weren’t strangers but co-workers added another layer of concern. However, this was her job. LCR missions often involved roles that would make the average person uncomfortable. Angela was determined that she could be just as professional as any other operative.

“I’ll be fine…as long as no one gets too close.”

A fierce, hot look flashed in his eyes. “No one will lay a hand on you, I promise you that.”

“Yes, well… They’ll be sliding money into my unmentionables, so there will be hands touching me. Besides, you can’t be too protective or he’ll never take the bait.”

“You let me worry about that.”

“Did you ever have to deal with a serial killer when you were a cop?”

His “Back off” expression firmly in place, he shook his head.

That was a look she’d seen many times and had gotten used to. It didn’t matter. She was made of sterner stuff. She’d just keep asking questions until he finally opened up.

“You were a cop for what…six years? I’m sure you dealt with some terrible people during that time.”

His face grew harder and Angela shivered. Okay, maybe she wasn’t immune to those blue eyes piercing through her. They had known each other for months now and the only events he had talked to her about were the things that had happened to him since he had come to Paris. It was as if he wanted to pretend he had never had a life before LCR. Problem was, that life he wanted to pretend never existed continued to eat at him.

“You can give me those looks all day long but it doesn’t mean I’ll stop asking questions.”

“Why? What is it that you feel you have to know about me?”

Should she take this was an opportunity to tell him she knew almost everything about him? He had to know that she knew a little. Why else would she ask him about being a cop? That was information he certainly hadn’t shared with her. But should she tell him she knew about his wife’s death? That he blamed himself was apparent, but she knew the whole story. Teresa Mallory’s death had been a horrific tragedy and many were at fault. Jake was not one of them.

No, an inevitable argument would ensue. They didn’t need the distraction. After this was over, she would come clean. She should have long ago but had never got to the point of saying, “I know everything about you and I think you’re a wonderful man.”

She shrugged. “You said we were friends. Friends know about each other’s lives.”

“There’s still a lot I don’t know about you.”

She almost laughed. After all the chattering she’d done, there was almost nothing he didn’t already know. Still, if there were questions he wanted to ask, she was ready, willing, and able to give him answers.

“What do you want to know?”

“Were you born in Paris?”

“No. My father was French, my mother is…was from America…she grew up in Wisconsin. She met my father while she was on holiday in Europe. He moved to the States when they were married. I was born in Milwaukee but we moved to Paris when I was ten.”

“So that’s why you have so many Americanisms.”

She smiled. “We rarely spoke French in our house. My mother never learned to speak the language and my father was fluent in English. We were a very American family living in the heart of Paris.”

“Your brother and sister were born in France?”

“No, but they were just infants when we moved to Paris. However, they learned to speak both languages equally well.”

“Did your parents know that you worked for LCR?”

She shook her head. “I hated keeping the truth from them but Noah feared for their safety. And I didn’t want to worry them. He and I agreed that I would be as vague as possible about my employment. I think they were under the impression that I worked for an aging hippy.”

“Because of your tattoos and piercings?”

“Yes.”

“They didn’t know they were fake?”

She swallowed a startled breath. “How could you tell? People who have known me for years don’t know that. Even Noah didn’t know for a long time.”