His Angel (3 page)

Brody walked back in with Athos right behind him and both men took seats at the table. Ian wasn't in the mood to offer Athos coffee or anything else and apparently neither was his brother, who also remained silent.

"I'm sure you investigated me last night and are frustrated with what you found and, more importantly, what you didn't find. Did Carter return your call, yet? Because I know that's the first thing you did after I left." Athos leaned back in his chair and rested one ankle on the opposite knee as if he didn't have a care in the world, but the Ian knew it wasn't the case. The man had something on his mind and was worried about it.

Ian tapped his hand on the table. "No, he didn't. Now instead of me asking you the hundred and one questions I have, why don't you start from the beginning and tell us what you want."

"As I'm sure you've figured out, Athos isn't my last name. There are only two people in this world who can conclusively connect me to the man I was nine years ago. One is Angie and the other is my handler at the DEA in Atlanta." Ian raised his eyebrow but said nothing. Neither did Devon or Brody, but the geek jumped onto his laptop, presumably getting the number to the Atlanta office. "I was recruited from the Marines after a six year stint, four of which were spent in Special Forces. I was given a new identity and my military record was expunged. Spent my first three years undercover with a biker gang out in Arizona and New Mexico who were running a lucrative cocaine business from over the border. It took me a while to work my way up the ladder but, after a long investigation, we were able to shut down the pipeline. But as you know, you shut down one of those fuckers, and three more pop up. From there, I've worked my way around the states until I got tired of living under rocks with the scum of the earth. My handler, who was also my recruiter, pulled me in and I've been working with a support team out of the Atlanta office for the past two years. Again, it was under a new identity–as far as anyone at the DEA knows, my last name is Austin. One of the advantages of coming in was I'm able to see and talk to Angie almost anytime I want to, but I still keep my connection to her a secret from my co-workers."

Ian held up his hand to interrupt. Athos' statement from yesterday was still eating away at his gut.
Angie means the world to me
… "Who is she to you?"

The man's hard face softened. "I told you yesterday, she's my world–she is and always will be. We met our freshman year of high school and clicked right away. She's been my best friend ever since. If it wasn't for her, I would've fallen apart years ago after my mother and baby sister were murdered by a drug dealer who I didn't know my sister got herself mixed up with. It was while I was still in the Marines and overseas. I would've hunted the bastard down and killed him myself if the cops hadn't already done it before I could get home. Angie was my rock, my savior, and she's the only family I have now and I'm all she has. Her folks were older when they had her and both of them died several months apart of natural causes in their late fifties. She had a much older brother who was killed in a car accident when she was nine and I think that's what eventually killed her folks because neither one of them ever got over it. Anyway, we've always been there for each other over the years and it would destroy me if anything ever happen to her because of me."

"You went into the DEA as a way to avenge your sister and mother's deaths." Ian didn't ask it as a question and Athos didn't deny it. "So where do we fit in?"

"Before Angie closed on her house three years ago, I did what I always do when it comes to her and ran a check on all her neighbors." He shrugged. Even though some of the inquiries he'd made were technically illegal, he didn’t seem ashamed to admit in front of men who most likely would've done the exact same thing. "When she mentioned Evans moved in next door, I checked him out too. I saw his connection to Trident Security and remembered Carter mentioning the name one night a few years ago. He'd said if I ever need help with anything in Tampa or the rest of Florida, I should contact Trident and you guys would get it done. Just to make sure things hadn't changed, I got in touch with him again and he told me he trusted you guys with his life. I've known the man for over seven years, he's saved my sorry ass twice, and so it was a good enough endorsement for me.

His voice became hard again and filled with venom. Ian could see the barely contained rage in his eyes. "Two weeks ago, an undercover agent, Aaron Reinhardt, working in New Orleans, was tortured and killed. We have no idea how he was made and if they broke him or not. I saw the crime scene photos and wouldn't be surprised if the poor guy did crack; most agents would've. The worst part was his parents and brother were found dead with him. Their bodies were discovered before anyone ever reported them missing, dumped next to a garbage bin behind a strip mall near their family home in Illinois. Small consolation, his family wasn't tortured but each was shot once in the back of the head. Like most undercover agents, Aaron's next of kin was only available to his handler. We both have the same handler and both trusted him with the information–I still do. Whoever found out about his family, it didn't come from Artie.

"Aaron was a friend of mine." It was obvious Athos had respected the dead man. "I worked with him on and off for years. He was one of the good guys and this was supposed to be his last undercover because he'd gotten to the point where he wanted to meet a nice girl and settle down. When we found out what happened, I told Artie I wanted the job. I maintained and updated my cover, which I cultivated over the years in case I ever needed it again. I'm heading to New Orleans after I leave here today to start working my way under. I told Angie last night after dinner and right now she's really pissed at me, although I can't blame her. I'd sworn to her I was done with undercover work, but this is something I need to do. I can't let the bastards win.

"So this is where you all come in. I need you to keep an eye on her for me without her knowing it. If she finds out she'll be pissed off enough to fight any attempts to protect her and end up getting herself hurt or killed. She's smart but stubborn at times and I'm worried if my cover gets blown, someone could come after her to get to me. Like I said though, it's highly unlikely because Artie Giles is the only one who can make the connection between the two of us. His files are kept in a safe at his home office and the name Athos and my birth surname don't appear anywhere in my file and neither does Angie's name. There's only her cell phone listed along with the pass-phrase he has to say to verify it's him who's calling her. They're also on two separate papers so if someone gets into his safe somehow, the two don't appear related. Neither of them have ever met nor spoken on the phone. If anyone claiming to be from the DEA contacts her without that phrase, she has instructions on how to disappear without a trace until I can catch up with her. No one else in the agency knows she exists in my life."

"As far as you know. Nothing is ever one hundred percent hidden," Ian said wryly.

"True." The agent nodded his head in reluctant agreement. "But I've been as careful as possible over the years. Hell, I've spent a small fortune in burner phones because I destroyed each one after I called her. I still do, even though I'm no longer under. I don't want something or someone from one of my past gigs to come back and bite me on the ass."

Athos was about to say something more but Ian's own phone rang. He glanced at the screen and then at Angie’s friend before hitting the speaker button to connect the call. A deep voice rumbled over the line. "Ian, you rang? Sorry I couldn't get back to you sooner. What's up?"

He leaned forward so he could be heard easier. "No problem, Carter. It seems I have an acquaintance of yours sitting in my office with Devon and Brody."

The sounds of traffic in the background came through the speaker. "Really? Who?"

Ian arched his eyebrow at the DEA agent indicating he should announce himself.

"Hey, man, its Athos."

There was a two second pause. "Confirm."

"Tinkerbell gives good head."

While the other three men shook their heads at the inane pass-phrase, Carter barked out a laugh. "Long time, no hear, dude. How's it hangin'? Have you shaved the bush yet?"

An amused snort escaped Athos. "A little low lately, and no I haven't."

"Ian, all is good. I trust this scruffy-faced jackass as much as I trust you and you know that's a lot. He's loves his alphabet soup at oh-four-hundred and whatever he says is on the level."

Alphabet soup was a reference to the multiple abbreviated government agencies in the U.S. and 'at oh-four-hundred' signified the fourth letter of the alphabet which was 'D'. It was as close to saying 'DEA' as the spy would get over the phone. As Athos said earlier, Carter's endorsement was all Ian needed. "Do you need anything else? I've only got a minute." In a reflexive reaction, Ian shook his head and said 'no' at the same time. "All right, cool. A-man, you take care of yourself. If you need anything, ring me up. It's been a long time since you and I raised hell together. Devil Dog, tell your pretty fiancée I'll be in Tampa in a few weeks and I'm looking forward to being re-introduced to the little librarian."

While Brody and Ian gave him curious looks, Devon chuckled. There was a story there they weren't privy to, but they had a good idea what it might be. Master Carter was known to take the third spot in an occasional ménage when visiting The Covenant. "I'll tell her, and I'm sure she'll be looking forward to it to. Hey, how'd you know we got engaged? You haven't been here in months."

"The almighty Carter knows all. I gotta go. Catch ya all later."

The connection dropped and Ian looked at Devon and Brody, who both nodded their silent approval, and then at Athos. "Give us the details."

Angie paced back and forth across her living room, wondering what the hell she was doing. One of her friends insisted on hooking her up with a blind date and it was something she swore she'd never do again after the last disastrous one. However, here she was all dressed up with nothing to do but wait another fifteen minutes before she left for the restaurant where she planned to meet Melvin Fromm, an accountant.

Really? Melvin?
When her friend had told Angie about him, she'd called him Mel not Melvin, which is how he'd introduced himself when he first called her. It was all Angie could do not to imagine him showing up with a pocket protector and glasses held together with a piece of tape. She was going to kill Mandy if this didn't work out; not that she expected it would. Which brought her back to her original question–what the hell was she doing?

It'd been over three weeks since Jimmy dropped the bomb he was going back undercover for one more case, and she was still pissed at him. She'd no idea why after two years he decided to go back and, as always, he couldn't give her details because it was classified. At least, that's what he always told her. But she figured it was more of a cross between he couldn't give her any details and he didn't want to worry her with them. Either way, she was in the dark and she would be apprehensive until he contacted her again. And from experience, she knew it could be a week or six months from now. Damn him.

She'd always understood why he'd gone to work undercover for the DEA. It was his way of getting some sort of revenge for the deaths of his family. Mrs. Andrews had been a very nice single mother whose husband walked out on her, two months after their daughter, Ruthie, was born, for another woman with no kids. The only time she had ever gotten child support from her ex was when his paycheck was finally garnered by the courts, when Ruthie was three. That had lasted two months before he moved out of state and disappeared for good. As a result, the woman worked hard at two jobs for the next eighteen years to support Jimmy and his younger sister. Some mothers may have grown to resent their kids in a similar situation, but Dorothy Andrews' children were her world and she let them know she loved them every chance she got. She'd also loved Angie as much as her son's best friend had loved her right back. Little Ruthie had been a sweet girl who'd gotten mixed in with the wrong crowd in high school. It had ultimately led to her and her mother being shot to death over what the police described as a case of mistaken identity. One of her girlfriends swiped some drugs from a dealer they both knew and the dealer blamed the missing drugs on Ruthie. It wasn't until after the police killed the suspect did the other girl came forward and admitted her role in the incident. The same girl died of an overdose two years later.

Jimmy Andrews, now Jimmy Athos, was determined to rid the world of as many drug dealers as he could. Angie wished it wasn't at the expense of his life though. Not only was he in danger of being killed on the job, she also worried about him in other ways. He rarely dated, as far as she knew, and when he did, the dates never resulted in any relationship which lasted past the two or three week mark. She was afraid he would never find someone to love and grow old with, not that she'd found her soulmate yet, either. There were times she wished they'd tried a romantic relationship between them, but the fear of losing everything had always stopped them. For some reason, Angie had been positive that's what would've happened, so instead, they were more like brother and sister. A shrink might say they were both using each other to replace the siblings they'd both lost but neither of them had ever felt that way, having discussed the subject a few times over the years. In the end, she wanted him to be happy with no regrets when he looked back on his life while on his deathbed. However, she didn't think it was possible for him, at least not at this point in his life.

Sighing, Angie looked at the time on her cable box again and was about to grab her purse when her cell phone rang. Glancing at the screen she saw it was Melvin calling her ten minutes before their date. She groaned, knowing what the man was going to say with the last minute call. Connecting the call, she walked to her back door and stepped out on the lanai because she had a feeling she was going to need some fresh air.

* * *

Ian took two steps across Brody's living room toward the sliding glass door which lead out to the patio and stopped. What the fuck was he doing? He was only supposed to swing by and pick up a file his employee had to leave at his house after getting a frantic call from a corporate client very early that morning. The geek had hopped into his truck and headed straight to Orlando after alerting Ian about the problem. One of the company's own computer geeks had figured out a way to embezzle $800,000 from a corporate account. They needed Brody’s help to figure out how the guy did it, and how they could prevent it from happening again. So Egghead was now near Disney World for a least another day or two and Ian was standing in the guy’s living room. And he was trying to talk himself out of going out the back door to see if Angie was in her own backyard.

After Athos had told them what he wanted to do, they got to work doing what they could to keep his best friend safe. They’d gotten lucky when she agreed to have her security system upgraded. Brody brought up the subject as subtly as he could while talking to her over their shared fence and the woman took the bait. So the next day, her new neighbor and Boomer installed their best system while telling her it was a normal setup for normal people who led normal lives and were probably not in any danger. Athos told them to spare no expense and gave them a credit card number to cover any cost differences from a basic unit. He had to let her pay something for the new installation otherwise she'd be suspicious.

The teammates installed the whole system in one day. Then while Brody took Angie around the house and showed her all the neat features of it, Boomer took the time to install the last few things they didn't want her to know about. He'd placed a few strategic audio bugs and remote cameras, then installed a tracking device on her phone, wallet and car. He'd also managed to get a few of them inside several of her shoes which he'd found in her closet. Looking at how worn the soles were, he was able to pick the ones she seemed to wear the most. The flat discs were very small and he tried to put them where she or anyone else wouldn't notice them. If she did find one, chances were slim she would know what it was.

Brody had also gotten friendlier with his new neighbor, not too friendly or Ian would've killed him, but enough so he found ways to check on her before and after work. Two days ago, he even invited her to join him for dinner on his patio and threw a couple of steaks on the grill for them. They wanted her comfortable enough with the geek in case anything ever went wrong. Athos had given them his handler's number, and a back-up pass-phrase Angie was aware of in the event they had to bypass the DEA altogether.

If Brody knew that for the past three weeks Ian had been watching the live footage of her walking around her house, he would have laughed at what a stalker his boss was being. The feed was being recorded on equipment in Trident's war-room for security purposes, in case they needed to review it for any reason. But Ian hadn't been able to help himself from bringing up the feeds on his computer a few times a day just to see her. None of the cameras were in her bathroom, and the cameras in her bedroom only faced the windows and door, thus giving her a small amount of privacy so he didn't consider himself a stalker. He was a voyeur–what the difference was, he wasn't sure, but if someone asked, he was sure he could think of something.

With the file he needed in his hand, he was about to turn around and leave when movement outside one of the windows caught his eye and he realized it was Angie on her own patio. Sighing and calling himself ten kinds of an idiot, he continued toward the sliding glass door, opened it and stepped outside. He took one look toward her backyard and almost swallowed his tongue.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. She was standing with her head down, dressed in a navy, wrap-around cotton dress which stopped an inch above her knees. The V-neck, while conservative, showed some of her ample cleavage which made him want to beg to see more. Her legs looked amazing and a pair of navy and white polka-dot heels brought her height up three inches to about five-foot-eleven. He could imagine where the top of her head would come to if she was standing next to his own six-foot-three frame. Her blonde hair was down the way he liked it and he longed to run his fingers through the gentle waves which gave the strands some volume. Her makeup was subtle and her jewelry, understated. All combined, it was one tempting little package making his mouth water.

It took him a moment to notice she was on her cell phone and he heard her say, "No, really. It's all right. These things happen." She paused to listen to whoever was on the other end of the call. "Yes. That's fine. Call me if you want to reschedule and I'll think about it. Bye."

Ian realized she hadn't known he was there until her pretty green eyes met his and widened a bit before she gave him a shy smile and a little wave. "Hi, Ian." He was surprised she remembered his name since, as far as he knew, she'd only heard it the first time they’d met and he craved to hear her say it again. He'd never thought hearing his name being verbalized could be turn-on, but that was before he heard it fall from her plump red lips.

"Hey, Angie." He took a few steps toward the fence and was please when she did the same. "You look very nice tonight. Going somewhere?" He figured from her conversation that her plans had been canceled but he was curious as to what they had been in the first place.

She shrugged, although she didn't look too disappointed her plans had changed. "I was supposed to go on a date but he canceled at the last minute."

"Must have been a blind date."

Giving him a curious look, Angie tilted her head. "It was, but how did you know?"

His blue eyes grew darker as his gaze covered her from head to toe and back up again. "Because if he knew how exquisite you look right now, he never would've canceled . He'd be thinking of how he could end the night with you in his bed."

A blush stained her cheeks and after a moment she tore her eyes away from his, gesturing with her head toward her backdoor. "Well, his loss, I guess. I'll just go change into a pair of sweats, pig out on a container of Ben & Jerry's, and find some old movie to watch."

"Or, you could let me take you out to dinner." What the hell had made him say that? Oh, yeah, the little head in his pants did. Glancing down, he was happy to see his khakis were loose enough to cover his semi-hard-on. He was also dressed nice enough, with his black polo shirt and loafers, to take her to dinner–if she said yes, of course.

She was still blushing and the pinkness was not only on her cheeks but her upper chest as well. He wondered if it was the same color as her nipples and the thought made his dick twitch.

"You don't have to do that. I'm sure you have other plans," she told him.

"One thing you should know about me, Angie, I never say things I don't mean and I don't do anything I don't want to do. I just order one of my employees to do it for me." She smiled as he'd intended. "I'd like to take you to dinner, if you'd let me." He tried to keep the desire he knew was in his eyes to a minimum. If she knew how much he wanted to strip her naked, tie her to his bed and do nasty, erotic things to every inch of her body, she'd run from the yard, screaming.

Her expression was more eager than shy and he liked the combination. "Well, since I'm already dressed and I think I'm running a little low on the Ben & Jerry's...yes, I'd like to go out to dinner with you. But this isn't a date." At his raised eyebrow, she added, 'I mean, it's not like this was planned, so we'll go Dutch."

Shaking his head, he smiled at her. "Uh-uh. I asked you to dinner and it's my treat. I'm not expecting anything in return, Angie, just the pleasure of your company for the evening. And maybe a goodnight kiss, if you decide you had a good time."

Now why did he tack on that last sentence? He was about to give himself a mental ass-kicking when she beamed at him. "We'll see." She turned toward her door as his heart beat a little faster. "Let me grab my purse and I'll meet you out front."

* * *

Five minutes later, Angie was sitting in the passenger seat of Ian's Ford Expedition, wondering how she ended up there. Did he ask her to dinner out of pity for her having been stood up at the last minute? Or did he truly want to spend some time with her? When he’d said she looked exquisite, her girly-parts had stood up and taken notice. Could he really be interested in her? And what about his comment about a goodnight kiss? Was he planning on kissing her later? Would she let him? The way her body had tingled when he'd taken her hand and helped her into the high seat of the SUV, she knew if asked to kiss her right now, she would let him.

She thought about what little she knew about him from talking to Brody. Of course when she'd asked her neighbor a bunch of questions the other night over their steak dinner, she'd made them sound as if she were curious about the whole team and not one member in particular. She knew Ian was single, never married and thirty-eight years old. He had a nineteen-year-old goddaughter, Jennifer, who lived with him when she wasn't at college at the nearby University of Tampa. Ian had taken the girl in after her parents were murdered a year ago in a brutal home invasion in Virginia. His brother and business partner was Devon, who was engaged to a woman named Kristen. Angie had gotten a glimpse of the other woman in passing when they'd visited Brody but she hadn't been introduced to her yet.