Nowhere to Run (Stephanie Carovella) (8 page)

Angel wrinkled her nose. “You know them. No one will ever be good enough for us. Ben hates him. He says he doesn’t trust him. Apparently Jase gives him the creeps.”

“And Jess?” Stephanie asked, smiling at Ben’s reaction.

She knew Angeline was right. Ben and Jesse would never be happy with any guy they introduced them to.

“Jess is Jess. He hasn’t exactly been welcoming to Jase, but then he hasn’t exactly given him the cold shoulder either.”

Angeline shrugged, her eyes darkening in turmoil. “I’ve never known what he was thinking. You’re the only one who knew that. To everyone else, he’s a closed book. Always in control, always keeping a tightly shut lid on what he is thinking and feeling.”

Stephanie smiled, reaching out to take Angeline’s hand in her own. “Well, you know as long as he makes you happy, Angel, then I’ll be happy for you.”

***

“Stephanie?” Ben’s voice intruded her thoughts.

“Sorry, I was just thinking,” she said, blinking back tears.

Ben saw her tears, reaching out to gently brush them away with his finger. “Thinking about Angel again?”

Nodding, she said, “I was thinking about how happy she was talking about Jase Devlin. He made her happy Ben, and we need to respect this.”

“You think I don’t know this? I know, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he grumbled, scowling.

She hugged him close, smiling when he automatically hugged her back. “I know Ben, but this is Angel’s day. It’s our formal goodbye to her. Let’s not let anything ruin it.”

Seeing his deepening scowl, as he stared back at Jase Devlin, she added, “Please, for me?”

Ben took in her pleading look and nodded at her. “I will, for Angel and for you.” He conceded.

Holding out his hand, Ben said, “Shall we go in?”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded, slipping her hand into his.

***

Jase surveyed the mourners walking through the church gates. They were hypocrites. Half the people here hadn’t bothered with Angel while she was alive. Some of them had even treated her with contempt, others had backstabbed her. Now that she was dead, they were milling into the church, as if they were her best friends. In reality, there were only a handful of friends who loved her for who she was.

Ben Reynolds was one of them, he admitted grudgingly. He watched Ben hold the statuesque redhead close to him. He briefly wondered how the lovely Ana would react to the obvious intimacy between the two of them. Watching Ben stroke the woman’s back, he smiled sardonically. Anyone could see the two of them were lovers, and if they weren’t then they certainly had been at one time or another. He wondered who she was.

Seeing her stiffen and turn her face towards him, he instantly recognized Stephanie Carovella, Angel’s best friend. He knew her from the photos Angel had littered around her home. He knew her or, at least, he felt like he did.

Angel had told him so much about the woman now watching him. Stephanie Carovella had been Dominic Delaney’s first and only real great love. She was Jesse Carlisle’s ex-girlfriend and at one time had been Ben Reynolds’ lover.

The only one, of the self-proclaimed famous five, to break free from the group, to pursue her own dreams, her own career, and her own life away from them. She was the only one who had ever had the strength to walk away from it all.

Stephanie Carovella was an enigma, a mystery to many, even most of her closest friends. She held herself with an inner strength which, on this darkest day, was evident.

He realized she was studying him back, analyzing him as intently as he was her. He nodded his head in acknowledgement. Angel had told him she was an investigative reporter. Her specialty was criminal reporting and at one time she’d been on the rise straight to the top. She’d been the
L.A Times’
best investigative Journalist before she walked away from it all six months ago.

She’d quietly sold her apartment, quit her job and left, letting only a handful of friends know where she was. Now she was back, back for Angel’s funeral.

Seeing the steely determination in her eyes, as she met his gaze unwaveringly, he knew it wasn’t going to be so simple. In fact, he’d bet everything he owned that Stephanie had no intention of leaving until she found out what had happened to Angel.

Watching Ben lead her into the church, he smiled grimly. Instinct told him Stephanie Carovella was going to be trouble.

Chapter Seven

Gena Evans surveyed the people gathered to mourn Angeline Monroe with a sad smile. Everyone Angel had made contact with in her life was here to mourn her. She, herself, was here as a friend first and a Detective second.

Here, as a friend, because it was Angel who had helped her adjust to Californian living when she’d moved here from New York at the tender age of 17. They’d lived across the hall from each other during the first year of their university years before Stephanie, Angel, their friend Lyn and she had moved in together to an off-campus apartment. Angel had made her feel like she belonged somewhere. She’d introduced her to new friends, and lessened the ache of leaving New York behind.

Secondly, she was here, as a Detective because there was no telling who might turn up to the funeral. For all she knew, one of Angel’s mourners could be her killer.

Smiling sadly, she watched Ben Reynolds and his girlfriend Ana Ferrier move forward to throw dirt onto the coffin.

Dropping her gaze to the ground, she raised her head only when a hand touched her shoulder. She turned her head to see Jesse Carlisle standing beside her. Her own hand covered his silently, before she turned her head back to stare into the fiery gaze of Stephanie Carovella.

Stephanie stood in front of Angeline’s coffin, staring down at the rich, brown dirt she held in her hand. “I promise you Angel, I’ll make him pay. I will find whoever did to this to you, and send him straight to hell. Believe in me, as you always have,” she whispered angrily, throwing the dirt onto the coffin.

“I’ll make him pay Angel, and no one will stop me,” she vowed, lifting her head to meet Gena Evans’ gaze. She returned it steadily, refusing to break the icy silence between them. She smiled coolly when Gena broke her gaze, leaning over to whisper fiercely to Jesse. She tensed, feeling someone’s eyes on her. Skimming the crowd, her eyes met and clashed with Jase Devlin’s, who stood watching her intently.

Nodding her head towards him, she turned and walked towards Ben and Ana, feeling his heated gaze following her every movement. She resisted the urge to turn her head and look back at him.

***

“She came then,” Gena said, turning away from Stephanie’s fiery gaze.

“Did you ever doubt she would? Angel was her sister, a kindred spirit,” Jesse answered, giving her a gentle smile.

“How long does she plan on staying?” Gena asked, noticing for the first time the dark circles under Jesse’s eyes, and how exhausted he looked. She wondered if he was sleeping.

“Are you asking as a Detective or a friend?” Jesse asked warily.

“Still the protective lover I see,” she commented with a mocking smile.

“As an ex-lover,” he reminded her.

Yes, but for how long? She wondered silently. Aloud, she asked exasperated, “You didn’t answer my question, Jesse.”

He shrugged, saying simply, “You know Stephanie.”

She groaned at his answer, meshing her teeth together in frustration. “Yes, I damn well know Stephanie. I know her better than she knows herself sometimes. It’s because I know her that I’m asking you this. Please tell me she’s leaving as soon as the funeral is over.”

He grinned broadly, flashing, white, even teeth. Bumping Gena’s shoulder gently, he said teasingly, “Like you said, you know Steph. She never tells anyone what she’s planning. She’s always done what she’s wanted and to hell with the consequences.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” she growled, bumping Jess back with her shoulder. Linking her arm with his, she asked softly, “You really don’t know what she’s thinking?”

Jesse ran a hand through his dark brown hair; frustration in his voice. “Hell Gena, no one knows what she’s thinking or feeling. The only person who ever did was Dominic.”

Gene swallowed hard, a lump developing in her throat and her chest tightly constricting. A ripple of grief streamed through her at the thought of Dominic Delaney. Taken too young, his death had left a gaping hole in their group. Charismatic and too good-looking for his own damn good, Dominic always had a wallop of the devil in him. He’d been Stephanie’s husband, lover and soul mate. The love of her life, he’d been her complete heart and soul until the day she quit their marriage and left him without any explanation. To this day, Gena couldn’t understand why Stephanie had just walked away from it all.

She flicked her eyes over Jesse again. She didn’t miss the way he followed Stephanie’s every movement and her mouth tightened in annoyance. Realizing she was watching, Jesse turned his head back towards her, his expression now guarded, making her curl her lip into a snarl.

Her eyes narrowing, she turned her attention back to where Stephanie stood with Ben, feeling her own pain turn to intense fury. “Dominic knew her so damn well because he was usually thinking the same thing. She was his female version – two halves fitting perfectly together,” Gena spat out, anger inflected in her voice. “Like him, she’s reckless and like him, once she gets something into her head nothing or no one will change her mind.” Her fury revealed itself in her eyes, as she spat out, “And, like him, she’s going to get herself killed.” She sighed again. “She hasn’t said
anything
to you?”

Jesse shrugged carelessly. “Like I said, Stephanie never tells me what she’s planning. She stopped including me in her life the day she left L.A.”

Gena frowned, opening her mouth to argue, but Jesse intercepted her. “No, that’s not even right. The day Dominic died, she stopped. All those walls I fought so hard to break down went right back up again. It’s like I ceased being important to her. As soon as Dom died, she stopped caring or feeling anything. She shut down completely.”

Gena bit her lip as guilt flooded through her. She wished she could ignore his last remarks. “You’re telling me she hasn’t tried to pump you for every bit of information she can get, regarding Angel’s death?”

Jesse smiled in amusement at her. “Now Gena, why would she need to do that when she has the crime scene report and photos?” He drawled. His smile widened when Gena spat out a string of curses.

“She hasn’t spoken to you about Angel’s death at all?” Gena asked unevenly, glaring furiously at Stephanie.

“Oh, you mean like finding out who killed Angel and making them pay?”

“Yes, Jesse, just like that,” she groaned aloud, ignoring the dark glares Angel’s parents shot her.

He nodded reluctantly, swinging an arm around her shoulder. “Now that you mention it, Gena, she might have said something about it. I don’t blame her though, I feel the same way.”

Gena knocked his arm off her shoulder, hissing out between clenched teeth, “Damn it Jesse.”

He interrupted her. “What Gena? You can’t expect us not to want to hurt this guy, even to kill him for what he did to Angel.”

Gena shook her head angrily. “Of course I understand it, but this is what I’m here for. It’s what the law is here for,” she said fiercely, softening her tone at his disgusted expression. “God, Jess, I couldn’t bear it if any of you were hurt. Angel would never want that.”

Jesse was non-committal, muttering, “We’ll see.”

Gena scowled at his evasive answer. The last thing she needed was to protect her friends from their own stupidity. Seeing the determination in Jesse’s eyes, she acknowledged it mirrored the intense fury she’d seen in Stephanie’s. It was pointless arguing with him, the same way it was pointless to ask Stephanie to leave this alone. They were both as stubborn as each other.

All she could do was make sure they didn’t interfere with her own investigation, and protect them if they needed it.

***

He watched Stephanie Carovella throw dirt onto the coffin, smiling lovingly at the anger in her eyes. She was fire and rain. Lord, he had forgotten how glorious she was. He’d forgotten her fire. He’d missed her. He savored the thought of her, remembering the first time he’d seen her.

It was the way she held herself which first caught his attention. She held herself like it was she against the world, and she planned to kick it in the ass. He’d never met a woman who had had as much determination as she did. She’d been so much more driven.

This had made him want her just a little bit more. He’d wanted her more than he’d wanted any other woman. More than he had ever wanted Angel, more than Carolyn.

He’d watch her and imagine breaking her spirit. He’d think about having her on her knees, begging before him. Time and time again, the very thought played through his mind. He’d been so close once.

He’d missed her so much. She had come home, home to him. Just like he knew she would. This time he didn’t plan on letting her go.

***

Stephanie moved quietly away from the fellow mourners, sinking down onto a headstone. Breathing deeply, she fought for control, willing herself to shut out her own pain. A hand clasped her shoulder gently but firmly. Lifting her head, she stared in muted surprise at the man standing in front of her. Closing her eyes, she took another deep breath. Opening them, she looked up at him standing patiently in front of her.

Standing up, she slipped into his arms, feeling them tighten around her reflexively. “I thought you were a figment of my imagination,” she whispered, lifting her lips to meet his descending ones.

Ben glanced over to where Stephanie sat solitarily, whispering softly to Ana, “I’m just going to see if Stephanie is okay.”

He didn’t wait for her reply, quickly walking towards her. He paused when a stranger approached her, watching her reaction to him. He scowled darkly when she embraced him, lifting her mouth to his.