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Chapter Twenty-seven
Earlier, calming from her panic to where she could see a doable future with Angie, it took Charli a while to lay down new rules for both her wards. The need to wiggle around Angie’s questions, obliged to play it safe; she purposefully didn’t reveal a lot of information.
The pitiful few questions Angie did ask surprised her. As if the girl still existed in a dream she didn’t want to wake up from, she became agreeable to whatever Charli said. In fact, she couldn’t have been more affable. Knowing that would change soon enough, the relief Charli felt at the moment was huge. Since she didn’t have answers, not having questions right now worked for her.
Shaking, not able to relax after the earlier battle with scumbag Hank, she overcame her reluctance and used one of the pills her doctor had prescribed for such moments. They were awful, made her sluggish and off-center, like she was drunk. She’d have benefited a whole lot more from an hour of yoga or hard physical exercise. Unfortunately, she had no time.
First, she’d talked privately with Kayla, where after an intense argument that Charli had trouble following, the highly intelligent teen agreed that it wouldn’t be fair for Angie to stay with them – to possibly put her life at risk.
Even though the danger level had minimized with each passing day nothing happened with Dylan Ross, it would be wrong to take any chances, nor would the department approve.
Therefore, the next day, Charli would look into a private school in Seattle, close to the smaller town where her grandfather lived, and request that Mark Crawly look after the details. She’d also ask him to instigate a meeting between John Madison and Angie and share her wishes with John that he should take the young girl under his wing until Charli returned.
Once they had Dylan in custody, she’d let Angie decide her future, hers – and if she could wrangle through the red tape, Kayla’s. Let them choose a school where they could be together, and she’d pay. Hell, what better way to spend some of her inheritance than to give two deserving girls a chance in life. A way they could stay together if they so wished.
Everything had settled down to where she felt better, more relaxed, could breathe without the constriction around her chest tightening uncomfortably. She’d been cool, even looked forward to Blake arriving that evening for dinner.
That he’d been late didn’t faze her. That he’d dumped a bombshell in the middle of their Scrabble game, well… that did it!
“I’ll be moving back home tonight.”
Angie and Kayla grinned, high fived and voiced their support. “Sweet.”
Charli reacted somewhat differently. Her chair skidded before it flipped over. Her face lost its color, and her voice rose just slightly lower than a full-out scream.
“What?”
He flinched even while he took on the boss-like tone he likely used to run a police department full of hot-heads. “There’s no argument you can say to make me change my mind. I’ll be around a lot more, so suck it up, sweetheart.”
She was pissed.
Glaring his way, she gritted her order between teeth that she’d forced closed to keep in the vitriol she couldn’t flay him with in front of witnesses. “In the bedroom. We need to talk.” She stomped down the hallway and heard the nervous giggles the girls shared at whatever stupidly cute comment he’d no doubt shared.
As soon as he closed the door, she whipped around, hands on hips, and let it rip. “There’s no blasted way in hell you’re moving in here while I’m under this roof. Either things stay the way they are, or we leave.”
Obviously working to keep his cool, Blake glared back, and then he said words she couldn’t argue with, words that stopped her cold.
“He killed her. Agent Melissa Dale, the one who took your place at the house you rented, he tortured her first. And then he killed her.”
Charli sagged, about to drop, and Blake gathered her close. “I’m sorry for giving you the news so brutally. But I need you to understand why I’m adamant about you and the girls having sufficient protection until we can move you out.”
“Of course. Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I never thought he’d find out about my personal plans for renting that house.” Charli’s head swam in a morass of guilt and pain for the other agent and her family. “That bastard’s not going to stop, is he?”
“Nope. We never thought he would. He wants Alicia Shoal and killing anyone in his way won’t even register on his guilt-meter. In fact, the monster doesn’t have one.”
“I know. You’re right. Thank God we’ve changed our identities and Agent Dale didn’t know where we were heading.”
Blake turned away but not in time. She saw his face.
“What? You’re not telling me something.”
“He broke into your apartment.”
“In Seattle? When?”
“Two days ago.”
“Hold it. When did he kill Agent Dale?”
