Part 15 (1/2)
With a stern face, Reeves glanced toward Ethan and made sure his client looked distracted before he answered.
”Yes, I knew her.”
When Reeves didn't say anything more, Angel noticed the grimace that flashed across his face at the mention of Olivia Davenport's name.
”But you didn't approve of Ethan's choice in girlfriends.” She furrowed her brow. ”Why?”
When the agent tightened his jaw, she wasn't sure he'd answer.
”That girl was a scandal in the making. Despite outward appearances and her family's pedigree, Olivia had no discretion. Ethan could have done better.” Reeves heaved a disapproving sigh and added, ”If you'll excuse me.”
When the agent cut a path through the crowd and disappeared, Rachel shrugged and shook her head. ”He wasn't a fan. And Harrison's very protective of his cash cow.”
”Sounds like you have a dose of bovine envy,” Gabe mumbled under his breath to Angel.
”What?” Rachel c.o.c.ked her head.
”Nothing. Does Ethan need that much protecting?” Gabe asked the publicist. ”I mean, between you and Mr. Warmth, I'd say that's overkill for one blind fiddle player. You two ever disagree on what's best for him?”
Before Rachel answered, a woman's voice nabbed Angel's attention.
”Don't I know you?”
The older woman, who smelled of cash and had been with Ethan, broke through the crowd waggling her finger at Gabe. She sidled next to him with her boy toy on her arm.
”I never forget a handsome man, especially one with delicious bruises on his face. You were at Simone Moreau's place the other night,” the woman said. ”I sat behind you two in the theatre. Simone is very picky about who she invites to her bed. You must be very special.”
”Simone Moreau,” Angel whispered to her partner. ”Isn't she-”
Angel never got to finish. When she looked at her partner, Gabe stared at the woman and the young Hispanic guy until recognition registered on his face. With it came a rare splash of color. Gabe blushed.
”You remember him, don't you, Joaquin?” the woman said with a wicked smile. ”He's the one I said would make a scrumptious seven course meal.”
The guy in the tuxedo chuckled with their inside joke. ”And I said I'd stay for dessert.”
Rachel stepped in with an amused look on her face.
”This is Evelyn Carmichael, Detectives. She's a generous patron of the arts and Ethan's number one fan. Her escort is Joaquin Salazar.” Without mercy, the publicist stared at Gabe and twisted the knife. ”How do you know each other again?”
All eyes were on him, even Angel's.
Cronan suspected most of the cops on the force knew Simone Moreau by reputation. Even without the high-profile murder that took place on her estate, Simone and her exotic s.e.xploits had earned her well-deserved notoriety within CPD, despite her desire for discretion.
”I worked a case at the Moreau estate. That's how I know Simone. That's it,” he explained.
Evelyn Carmichael and her mansickle looked at him as if he were a porterhouse with a side of garlic mashed potatoes. Rachel Blevins raised an eyebrow, and Bryce Peterson glared, but Angel had his attention. She clenched her jaw and did her best to remain unreadable, except for the palpable tension he felt between them.
”What?” He shrugged. ”Simone is a...friend.”
No doubt his partner had figured out he had carried on the investigation without her. Although she had done the same by meeting with Chandler on the sly, they had enough history with the problem of him going rogue, that he knew she wouldn't let this one slide. Even if it made sense that Moreau might have insight on the vic's preference for bedroom acrobatics and s.e.x toys, Angel would be p.i.s.sed for different reasons.
”Can we be friends, too?” Evelyn Carmichael didn't know when to quit.
Cronan didn't answer her.
He vaguely remembered the woman from Simone's. When she mentioned the theatre, a gong went off in his brain. He'd been so focused on talking to Simone-doing his best to ignore the mind blowing glimpses of s.e.xual deviancy in every corner of the Moreau mansion-that it took a moment for the gray-haired woman's face to register.
Someone else within Ethan's tight circle of protectors and fans had a connection to Simone Moreau, a coincidence he didn't like. But for tonight, the damage had been done with his partner. Cronan didn't have to be a mind reader to see that the rift between them had split wide open.
It showed on Angel's face.
Hours Later By the time Angel got home, close to midnight, she felt exhausted. Relying on the dim glow of a lamp in her living room that operated on a timer, she walked through the front door and didn't bother to flip on any more lights. Shadows suited her mood. She kicked off her heels and tossed her shawl over the back of a chair before she headed for her dark kitchen.
Her answering machine blinked and beeped a signal, flas.h.i.+ng a red digital number that told her she had three messages. She had a pretty good idea who had called-the same guy who had left voice mail on her cell. After she hadn't replied, he had probably resorted to hitting her home phone, something he never would've done before tonight.
She punched the b.u.t.ton for message number one.
*Angel, it's me. Why did you leave without talking? Call me.'
Gabe's low voice felt more intimate in the dark. Angel shut her eyes as she grappled with the strange tangle of feelings that had grown more intense since the start of this case. Or maybe she'd been in denial about when everything had begun. After a deep breath, she opened her eyes again and hit the b.u.t.ton for message number two.
*Don't do this, Angel. Please. Call me.'
Again, no name, but she knew who had left the message. With the tone to Gabe's voice, she knew any conversation they'd have wouldn't be partner to partner. It would be about something personal. She didn't have the strength to deal with it tonight.
But when she punched up the last message, it kicked like a punch to the gut.
*Why do you still have Manny's voice on your machine?'
She'd forgotten about that outgoing message, and Gabe had reminded her. His intention had been a repeat of what he'd told her before when he saw Manny's cap still hanging on her coat rack and the inflated beach ball behind her couch that still held her dead husband's breath. Her partner-a guy who had been like a brother to her Manny-had made his point again that she needed to move on with her life.
d.a.m.n it, Gabe.
Angel knew he had a point. Her life had stopped when Manny died. She functioned and life went on, but somewhere she had lost the peaks to her mountains. Only the valleys remained. Manny's voice on her answering machine had been one more thing she couldn't part with. After her husband died, she'd heard the message by accident. She'd called home trying to reach her mother who had come for a visit. But when the call rolled into voice mail, the shock of hearing Manny's voice on the recording nearly dropped her to her knees.
After that, she didn't have the heart to delete it. She used the excuse that she didn't want to forget Manny's voice and played that recording over and over, listening to every word he said. She would picture his face-especially the expression that carried a hint of the little boy he used to be-and then she would imagine the glint in his eyes that had been anything but childish.
But ever since she'd met Ethan Chandler and felt the pull of attraction to the handsome and ethereal violinist, for the first time she had a glimmer of hope that she could have a future with love in it. Maybe that feeling didn't have as much to do with Ethan as her need to believe she could be happy again and not be anch.o.r.ed to the past. Before now her life had been about the job. She'd buried her needs as a woman because those feelings smacked of betrayal to Manny's memory.
Her sudden attraction to Ethan was too fresh, too new even to her. If she had a hard time grasping her feelings, how did she expect Gabe to understand? With her partner loving Manny like family, he posed a different obstacle to her moving on. If anything, Gabe would be the last person she'd want to share her feelings with.
But she'd been avoiding an even harsher truth-one that dealt with her alone-a gut wrenching reality that made her stomach clench. Angel had to admit she had strong feelings about Gabe visiting Simone Moreau-emotions that had nothing to do with the job or Gabe's investigative tactics as a partner. She hadn't dealt with those feelings because before tonight, she hadn't realized she had a problem.
An undeniable pang of jealousy had been the real reason she'd left the symphony center without talking to Gabe. It confused her, made her feel out of control. It would have been simple to blame her partner's tunnel vision and his impulsive detective's instincts for her irritation-an old familiar argument whenever he pursued aspects of any case without her-but deep in her bones she knew it had been more than that.
She hated imagining Gabe with Simone. Hated it.