Jennifer Apodaca - Samantha Shaw 04 - Batteries Required (4 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Apodaca

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Dating Service - California

BOOK: Jennifer Apodaca - Samantha Shaw 04 - Batteries Required
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“Go to hell,” Hugh moved back to slam the door.
Gabe stepped into the opening, threw his shoulder into the door, and knocked it from Hugh’s hold. Then he grabbed Hugh by his preppy golf shirt and slammed him up against a mirrored wall. “Let’s try it again. When was the last time you saw Angel?”
“Let go of me! I’ll have you arrested for assault! My father is Grant Crimson, the best criminal defense lawyer in the Inland Empire.”
In response, Gabe jerked Hugh forward, then slammed him back up against the wall. “You screamed lawyer faster than all the scum I ever arrested.”
Hugh’s eyes widened so that rims of white glowed his fear. “You’re a cop? This is harassment!”
Gabe shifted lightly on his feet. “Not a cop anymore. I don’t have to follow all those rules. Hell, if you trip and smash your nose in your own house, I can’t be blamed for that, right, Sam?”
Huh?
Rooted to the porch, I could almost see the barely controlled fury rising off Gabe’s skin. OK, time to step up with the program. Gabe knew how to handle Hugh Crimson’s bloated self-importance. “Hugh’s known to be a klutz, Gabe. No one can blame you for that.”
“You bitch!” Hugh’s eyes bulged.
Whack.
Gabe slammed Hugh’s head back into the mirrored wall again. I clenched my teeth, wondering why the squares of mirrors didn’t break, and how Hugh could be such a lumbering dumbass.
Gabe said, “One more time, Crimson. When was the last time you saw Angel?”
Hugh held up his hands. “OK! Friday! I went over there Friday morning.”
Now we were getting somewhere. I stepped into the foyer. “You went to Angel’s house? Why?”
He shifted his eyes to me. “She ruined my career! She told the FBI a bunch of lies! Now they won’t clear me for a private patrol operator’s license. How am I going to start my own private security company now?”
Gabe snorted.
Raw anger hot-flashed through my body. Suddenly it seemed possible that Hugh had done something to Angel. “Where is she, Hugh? What did you do to Angel? We know you followed her to Daystar Friday night.” Rage had me leaping to conclusions.
He blinked his eyes rapidly, looking back and forth between me and Gabe, who had him pinned to the wall. “Nothing! I didn’t do anything! Well, I told her I was going to file a lawsuit, but that’s all!”
God, he was such a weasel. “Why were you at Daystar?”
The way his eyes kept darting to Gabe, then away, I knew he was scared. The veins in his neck stood out. “I didn’t know she was going to be there! You have to believe me! I was planning my lawsuit against her for destroying my chances at the license, that’s all!”
My fury deflated. Hugh was the type to hide behind his daddy’s law practice, not stalk and kidnap someone. “You can’t file the suit—you never passed your bar exam.” I looked around the duplex, wondering where Brandi was. Empty beer cans and Frito bags littered the couch and coffee table. The TV blared a tough-guy movie. Looking back at Hugh, I said, “Where’s Brandi?”
Gabe let go of Hugh and stepped back.
Hugh made a show of fixing his polo shirt but didn’t meet my eyes. “She went on a trip with her mother.”
I stared at Hugh’s face. I could see the anger had colored his pasty complexion ruddy. “You better be telling the truth about Angel.” I turned and stormed out of the house.
I was shaking. Hugh hadn’t always been that big a loser. He’d been OK when he and Angel first married. He’d been in law school, struggling his way through. It was when life started making demands on him that his dad couldn’t fix that he began sliding into becoming the loser he was today.
I stormed over the dead grass to the passenger side of the truck.
Gabe came up behind me. “You OK?” His voice was soft.
I leaned my back against the cold door. “I don’t think Hugh did anything to Angel. He might trash the house, but he doesn’t have the guts to face Angel.”
“Not himself, I agree with that. There were no visible cuts on him so I doubt it’s his blood on that dish towel in Angel’s house. But Hugh strikes me as the type to hire someone. Or he could have gotten involved with the wrong person and they went after Angel for some reason.”
“It could be Angel’s blood.” I hated even saying the words.
Gabe looked at me. “Possible, but we don’t know. Do you buy that story about his wife being on a trip with her mother?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. She might have left him.”
“Think, Sam. Let’s say this latest career setback with being turned down for the private patrol license caused his wife to leave, and Hugh blames Angel for that. What would he do?”
I rubbed my forehead, trying to think. Hugh hated looking bad. He blamed Angel when he couldn’t pass the bar. He found a way to have the lab reports changed so he couldn’t be blamed for not having children. And eventually, he proved his manhood by banging a dumb, young girl. “Nothing violent, I don’t think.” So what would he do? I dropped my hand and looked at Gabe. “But he would try to make Angel look bad. Blame her. Be able to say, ‘See, she’s a bitch or she’s crazy.’”
Gabe nodded. “I’ll see if I can find out what he was doing at Daystar. I’ll probably have another face-to-face with Hugh after I have some information, so I can tell if he’s lying or not.”
I put my hands flat against the door of the truck behind my hips. “You scared him bad enough that I think he’s telling more truth than lies.”
“Maybe. It all depends what the stakes are for Hugh.”
God, I was scared. “You mean he might be more afraid of someone or something else?”
Gabe shrugged.
My head throbbed behind my eyes. “What now?”
Gabe leaned over me, putting his hands on the truck over my head. “You have to hold it together, Sam. You know Angel the best. You have to think like her. Things like how would she react to Hugh being pissed about losing his chance at that license? If Hugh went over and yelled at Angel or threatened her, what would she do?”
Easy question. “Tell him to go to hell. That he got what he deserved. And threatening her with a lawsuit? She would have laughed in his face.”
“Pissing him off more,” Gabe pointed out.
“Maybe. Angel isn’t afraid like that. But what do we do now?”
“Keep figuring out what happened. First, we’ll go home and see if Barney and the boys had any luck getting ahold of Rick or anyone else in the Silky Men. Then we’ll go back over to Angel’s house and start talking to her neighbors. We’re going to try and reconstruct her exact moves.”
 
 
Monday mornings suck. This Monday morning sucked worse than usual. Dragging myself out of bed, I hit the shower and tried to convince myself that I’d had a nightmare and Angel wasn’t really missing.
But by the time I got the boys off to school and into my car for the drive to work, I had to face it. Angel was missing.
While driving to the office, I went over everything. Grandpa and the boys hadn’t gotten any answer at Rick’s house, or from any of the other guys. Gabe and I had talked to Angel’s neighbors, but they hadn’t noticed anything unusual. We had gone to Rick’s house and he still wasn’t home. Then Gabe had spent a few hours doing surveillance on Hugh, but Hugh never left his house.
Today, Gabe and I were going to head out to Daystar and see what we could pick up of Angel’s trail there.
But first, I was going to work while Gabe got a few hours’ sleep. I needed to keep busy. I pulled into the row of parking spaces that faced Mission Trail Street. I walked with a heavy stride to the strip mall that housed Heart Mates. Going into work was better than sitting home and stewing. I unlocked the door and went in.
The smell of fresh paint hit me. Propping the door open, I looked around. Jeez, the place was a mess. Blaine wasn’t there yet, so his desk in the reception area was still covered. I had planned on picking up the couch the day before, then spending the rest of the day cleaning. I had an open house in two days and I didn’t care.
I would cancel it.
Almost against my will, I looked right to the little sitting area where the brown leather couch was meant to go. Empty. The couch, the open house, the empty suite that I had coveted on the other side of that wall, none of it mattered to me anymore. I just wanted Angel to turn up safe and sound.
Shaking my head, I knew I had to pull myself together. Make coffee, open up everything, and start cleaning. I hoped that the mindless activity would help me think of something, anything that might help us find Angel.
I also wanted to call Detective Vance to see what he knew.
“Hey, boss.”
I jumped and realized I had been standing in the middle of the reception area, mindlessly staring at the sheet-covered desk. I turned my head to see Blaine come in carrying two paper cups and a white bag, all from Smash Coffee. Wearing his customary blue button-down work shirt and Levis, he settled his brown gaze on me. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here, but I brought you coffee and a muffin. Chocolate chip. Any word on Angel?”
Small towns didn’t have many secrets. I shook my head and took the coffee from him. It smelled like fresh-ground beans. “No. Thanks for the coffee.”
He waved it off, set his coffee and the muffin bag on the floor. He stripped the paint-splattered sheet off his desk. “Anything I can do, Sam? You know, to help find Angel?”
“I don’t know.” I moved the two blue pillows with the cute sayings—the ones Grandpa had made for me—off Blaine’s desk. I had put them under the sheet for safekeeping. Now I didn’t know what to do with them. Heart Mates and all my dreams had dropped like a lead ball down my priority list. “Gabe and I are going out to Daystar later to see what we can find out.”
Blaine set the folded sheet on the ground and picked up his coffee and the bag to put them on his desk. Then he frowned at the floor. “What’s that?”
“What?” I turned to look at the floor by the door. There was a greeting-card-size, grayish lavender envelope on the carpet. It sort of blended into the steel-gray-colored carpet. I hadn’t even noticed it. It must have been slid under the door.
Angel! My mouth dried, sealing my tongue to the roof. I went a few steps and bent over to pick it up. My hands shook and my palms were damp and tingling. Could it be a ransom note? A threat? In a greeting-card envelope? Did that make sense?
God, just let Angel be all right. Please.
I prayed silently.
“Boss?” Blaine came around his desk. “Open it.”
I lifted my eyes to Blaine’s. He thought of Angel as a friend, too. Then I stuck my index finger under the fold and tore the envelope.
I pulled out a store-bought card. It had a picture of a colorful bouquet on the front, with the words “Love is in Bloom.”
“Maybe it’s from Gabe?” Blaine asked.
I shook my head. This wasn’t Gabe’s style. And we’d both been preoccupied with Angel. No, this was something else. My fingers felt thick and clumsy as I tried to open the card.
Finally the card opened. It took me a second to see the inside had been left blank by the card company, but someone had pasted on big chunks of printed words.
Huh? If this was a ransom demand, they had done it wrong. In all the movies, the kidnappers always cut the letters or words out of magazines, but these words didn’t have a slick, glossy finish.
The words were about the size of the type in a mass-market paperback book.
“What does it say?” Blaine demanded.
Frowning, I scanned the words. “It’s a scene from a book, a kidnapping—” I couldn’t breathe. Fear raced through me. Hot prickles popped out on my back and arms. Was this a description of Angel’s kidnapping?
 
 
I stared at the words pasted onto the greeting card. This couldn’t be a description of Angel’s kidnapping. That didn’t even make sense. And how would they find a book that had the exact same kidnapping . . .
Unless the kidnapper had copied the actual kidnapping from a book. I shivered at the thought. It would take a true crazy person to do that.
Blaine’s voice cut into my thoughts. “Boss, what is it?”
I looked up at Blaine’s intense brown gaze. “I don’t know. It’s a scene from a book, I think.” I looked down again, skimming the words. “Wait, this is familiar. I think I’ve read this somewhere . . .”
“How can you remember, with all the books you read?” Blaine asked. “Want me to call the police?”
But I knew this writing. I recognized it. I closed my eyes, trying to put the kidnapping scene in context, when it hit me. I opened my eyes and said, “Vance!”
Blaine reached for the phone. “I’ll call him.”
“No!”
Blaine held the phone in one of his blunt-fingered hands and looked at me. “Come again?”
“I didn’t mean for you to call Vance, I meant this is
Vance’s writing
. It’s from one of the books that he wrote under his pen name. A romance where the hero/cop’s love interest is kidnapped. That book was hot.”

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