Page 12 of Avenging Angel

Angel reaches for the bag of ground coffee and the filters from the cabinet as I leave to change into my running gear. Under his breath, I hear him say, “It’s a start, Lord. It’s a start.”

“Come on Zurkowski, pick up the pace,” Angel goads as the breath in my lungs crystallizes with every inhale. Another thin layer of snow fell overnight, creating a frost-dusted landscape as the flakes stick to the pine needles. It’s breathtaking in the most literal sense as I fight against the freezing temperatures and see a cloud of vapor each time I exhale.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” I retort, pumping my arms and lengthening my stride despite my comment. It’s only one more mile into town, and there’s a diner with waffles calling my name.

Angel slows down so I can catch up, which annoys me more than it should. I run five miles almost every morning before heading into the Southern Knight offices in Charleston, as well as any chance I get while working on a case. The one thing I learned from experience is that endurance can mean the difference between life and death when you have to run for your life.

With one last burst of energy, I sprint past him and shout, “Last one to the diner buys breakfast!”

Five minutes later and running on fumes, the diner comes into view. I’m all smiles until Angel jogs ahead of me. The worst part about it is that he’s not even winded.

Out of breath and hands resting on my head as I walk off the six-mile run, I tell him, “You… aren’t… human.”

He presses his hand against a bare tree in front of the restaurant and stretches his quads and calves. “I’m just used to the cold weather. I grew up not half an hour from here. Three months of sunshine in the summer was a blessing. Nine months of rain and snow are the norm.”

“That’s horrible!” I joke.

Angel smiles and gestures at the evergreen trees all around us. “It’s worth it for scenery like this. In my humble opinion, the Pacific Northwest has some of the most beautiful countryside in the world. Volcanoes, forests, and waterfalls make this area a backpacker’s paradise. And don’t forget the stars. Without the light pollution from the cities, they fill up the sky so that there are more stars than there is empty space.”

I glance up at the overcast sky. “Don’t you mean when you can see them?”

He chuckles. “Fair point. One can practically guarantee there will be cloud cover when a major astronomical event occurs. Growing up here means I’ve missed almost every comet, meteor shower, and eclipse.”

“My family would always drive north of Sacramento to see stuff like that because the haze from the city’s air pollution, as well as the bright lights, would wash out the night sky.”

“Where did you move to after… um… the uh….” he stutters.

“Abduction?” I lunge forward to stretch my hip flexors and quadriceps, holding the pose for half a minute before switching legs. “I thought you read my file.”

“There wasn’t much in the file that the FBI gave to the CIA. Even in the real file that Roger gave me a month ago, names and locations weren’t listed. If Grace hadn’t told me your names so that I could help, then I’d still be in the dark.”

I jump up and down to warm my body, shaking out my limbs to get the blood flowing. The cold air feels even colder against my sweaty clothing as it rapidly cools down. “Brrr! Why don’t we go inside and get something to eat? I can fill you in on some of the missing details. Apparently, breakfast is on me.”

“The joys of a company credit card,” Angel says, opening the door for me.

Vinny waves us over to the booth he’s sitting in, sipping his cup of coffee. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’s occupying the center of one side of the booth, thereby forcing Angel and me to sit side-by-side on the other.

“Again I say, everyone’s a matchmaker,” I mumble as I slide into the booth.

“Or everyone knows how great we could be together.”

As I open my mouth to say something snarky like, “They’ve probably run out of quality entertainment and decided we’re the next best thing,” or “They’re looking for a reason to place a bet,” Angel places his palm at the small of my back. It works as intended because his gentle touch instantly quiets any of my rambling thoughts.

“As friends,” he adds with a whisper, then winks.

That wink! Darn it! It sends tingles shooting through my body, which is the last thing I need right now. And from the smile on his face, he knows it!

I give myself a mental pep talk. “Focus, Daisy. Remember that you’re here to catch a kidnapper; not fall for the hunky CIA agent… again. Stay strong! Eyes as blue as the summer sky are a dime a dozen. There’s no reason to get lost in his!”

Once we’re seated, I grab the menu from behind the variety of sweeteners, jellies, and pancake syrup to look anywhere other than at Angel.

“Pleasant run?” Vinny asks us.

“I’m surprised you didn’t join us,” Angel replies.

“For starters, it’s freezing and there’s snow on the ground. Don’t forget I spent more than a decade in Colombia where the weather is much warmer year-round. Sure, it gets chilly in Bogotá during the winter, but rarely does it ever feel like stepping outside is a bad tactical decision,” Vinny quips. “Besides, I did an hour of calisthenics to get the blood pumping before the sun came up. I’ll leave the running to you young pups.”

I lift one eyebrow at him. “Young pup?”