Chances Are(28)

Jake answered on the first ring. “Hey, I’m glad you called. I’m headed your way. I need to talk—”

She kept her voice low and calm. “He’s here.”

“Where?” he asked sharply.

She appreciated Jake’s quick comprehension. “The parking lot of my apartment complex.”

“How close is he?”

“About thirty yards away.”

“Does he know you’ve seen him?”

“I don’t think so. He’s pretending to work on his van. This is the third time I’ve seen him. The first time, I was window-shopping and I thought he was just some creep leering at me. Then yesterday, at the dry cleaners, this man was staring at me from across the street. Again I dismissed him. Both times, he was disguised, but I’m sure it was the same man. And now, here he is again.”

Would Jake believe her or had he lost all confidence in her?

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m halfway across town. It’ll take me at least ten minutes to get to you. I’m texting McCall to see if he can get someone to you sooner.”

Even as he said the words, Angela knew there wouldn’t be enough time. If she continued to loiter in the garage, he would become suspicious and possibly leave. She couldn’t risk that happening. She was going to have to do this on her own.

“I can do this, Jake.”

“You have your weapon?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Okay. Wait till he comes at you. Then hold your gun on him until I—”

“What? No, Jake, he still has a victim. We have to go with our original plan.”

“We sure as hell do not,” Jake snapped. “We’ll bring the bastard in and get him to talk.”

“And if he won’t, what then? If there’s a chance to rescue this woman, we need to take it.”

“He wouldn’t have brought her all the way to Paris. Think, Angela! He’s probably already dumped her body somewhere. The most important thing is to capture the bastard before he can kill anyone else.”

“If this was another LCR operative, would you say the same thing?”

The briefest of pauses gave her the answer.

“I’m going to let him take me. You can track me. He’s acting so against type, there’s a possibility he could have the woman with him.”

“Absolutely not. I can’t allow—”

“Look, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I need you to trust me, Jake. I can do this.”

“Angela, I said, no. That’s an order.”

“This might be our only chance.” When he didn’t answer, she added softly, firmly, “Jake, please…I can do this. I know I can.”

Instead of arguing, he said grimly, “Describe him.”

“A little over six feet tall, but he’s wearing lifts because yesterday he was a couple of inches shorter. He’s wearing a badly cut brown wig with a receding hairline, fake goatee, and wire-rimmed glasses. Yesterday he wore padding, had a bulbous nose and thick, curly hair; today he’s much thinner and has a beaky nose, which looks to be his own. And the first time I saw him, he was medium build and height with brown, thinning hair.”

Even though it sounded as though she were describing three different people, she was relieved when Jake’s only comment was “That’s probably how he’s stayed hidden for so long. Sounds like he’s damn good with disguises.”

“He’s in an older white Volkswagen van, maybe about five years old.”

“Can you see a license plate?”

“No, not from here.”

“Anything else stand out?”

“Looks like there’s a small dent on the left rear bumper.” She stretched her neck ever so slightly…it was awfully hard to look without appearing as if she were looking. “That’s all I can see.”

“Is there anyone else in the garage with you?”

“No. And I can’t stall any longer.”

“I don’t want—”

“Jake, please. I know I haven’t given you any reason to trust me, but I promise you, I can do this.”

Silence filled her ear for several taut seconds and then he said, “You have your trackers?”

Relieved, she answered, “My necklace and watch. My phone too but he’ll probably dispose of it.” And because, despite his obvious misgivings, he was going to approve her plan, she whispered, “Thank you.”

Another long tense silence and then his ragged sigh exploded in her ear. “Partners don’t thank each other until the op is over. Got it?”

Withdrawing the grocery bag from her car, Angela knew she had dawdled as long as she dared. She might be on her own but she would never be alone. At that thought a surge of warmth and comfort surrounded her. LCR was the best in the business and she trusted Jake with her life. Not for a moment would this be a solo mission.



Jake gripped the phone in his hand as he stared at the scene in front of him. Miles of stalled traffic and he was caught in the middle lane, in between two semi-trucks. No way in hell could he get to her in time.

“Dammit, now I’m stuck in a traffic jam.”

“Just track me as soon as you can. I’ll be fine. Really.”

Wanting to scream his frustrations, he forced himself to focus on making sure she knew her options. “Don’t let it go too far. If it’s between your survival and his, don’t hesitate. Take him down. Kill him if you have to. Understand?”

“Yes.”

He had thought watching Angela dance and strip in front of a roomful of salacious strangers was torturous. That was nothing compared to listening as a killer stalked her and being unable to do a damn thing about it.

McCall and three LCR operatives were headed to her apartment but they were even further away than Jake. No one would reach her in time. This man would act way before anyone could get to her. Would the bastard follow Angela up to her apartment and play out the same scenario as he had with the other victims? If so, what had he done with Clarissa Eaton? There was no damn way he would have brought her all the way to Paris. Would her body be discovered soon since he was about to abduct a new victim?

When this was over, he’d kick his own ass for not considering that the killer had already targeted Angela. Had he been stalking her the entire time they were in London? How the hell had the man known her address in Paris? Could he have been on the train with them? Why had he not given any consideration that the bastard would come after her? Just because the maniac was acting against type meant nothing. Dammit, he should have stayed with Angela until the creep had been caught. If this went to shit, it was all on him.

Jake breathed out a ragged breath. Dissection of his piss-poor handling of the situation would have to wait for another day. The most important thing right now was making sure Angela stayed alive.

This was as far from their carefully controlled scenario as it could be. He had planned to be with her every step of the way. And despite his anger at her for disobeying him, he would back her up. When this was over, they’d damn well have a discussion about her following orders. For now, he had to trust that she could handle this. He had no other choice.

“Okay,” she said softly. “I’m headed up to my apartment. Stairs or elevator?”

“Stairs. I don’t want you on the elevator with him.”

“Okay.”

“Go silent. No talking to me after this.”

“K.” She paused a beat and then added, “See you soon.”

Hell, he hoped so. Horns blared as impatient drivers let their displeasure be heard. Jake’s total focus was on the sounds coming from his cellphone. Angela’s breathing, a door opened, then closed. Footsteps, light ones and then, though distant, he heard the distinct clop of heavier feet. Then the most ominous sound of all—a man’s voice.

Never had Jake felt more helpless than to listen as the woman he’d come to care about more than he’d ever thought possible was attacked by a serial killer.





Chapter Sixteen

As he followed the tall, beautiful Angela to her apartment, he smiled to himself. Everything was working perfectly now. How could he have doubted his Dark Angel?

Three days ago, roses in hand, he had arrived at her apartment building in London, ready to begin their courtship. What he observed was his Dark Angel leaving with one of the mammoth men who had rescued her from the over-amorous drunk at Club Drago. The same man he had seen her shopping with the day before. Their car was packed with luggage. He had followed them to the train station and watched, devastated, as she and the man boarded a train for Paris. Only by sheer will had he not returned to his home and destroyed everything.

Fortunately, good reason had prevailed. He had returned to the toy store where she had purchased an electric train set and dollhouse the day before. He’d been preoccupied, so careful to hide in the shadows from her behemoth male companion, that he had paid little note when she’d asked that the gifts be delivered to Paris.