Blood Score Part 26

He glanced over his shoulder and caught Angel and the nurse exchanging a look he'd seen before.

"They said you should see your doctor every couple of days," Angel said. "Then there's respiratory therapy, and you have to build your strength back up. I'm gonna see you do that."

Cronan looked up at his partner. He wanted to give her a heaping dose of smart a.s.s, but when he saw the concern on her face, he kept his mouth shut.

"Thanks, for everything," he said. "It meant a lot that you were here."

He hated that they weren't alone, but he had to say what was on his mind, even though his throat was still sore from the day he spent on a breathing tube. His voice sounded like a rolling cement truck.

"You saved my life, Gabriel. You took a bullet meant for me." She reached for his hand and laced her fingers in his.

Cronan hadn't missed the fact that Angel now called him Gabriel, after their harrowing experience. He liked it. It was as if they'd both turned a page to a new story between them. After they got to the entrance of the ER and Claire helped him into Angel's vehicle, the woman stared at him for a long moment before she kissed him on the cheek.

"It was an honor taking care of you, young man." The nurse smiled and shut the door, leaving Cronan stunned as she waved from the curb.

"d.a.m.n," he muttered. "I didn't know she had teeth."

Angel only sighed as she drove through the parking lot and headed for the freeway-and home.

On the drive back to Chicago, Cronan had to know what happened during the days he was in the hospital. When it looked like he'd recover, Angel reported back to work to question Rachel Blevins and tie up the case before word got out about the Lake Zurich shootout being linked to the Davenport murder, and the publicist had a chance to flee. Although there was still much to be done before they closed the case file, Angel helped him piece things together.

"Rachel Blevins had plenty to say after I forced her to tell me the truth," Angel said as she drove. "I threatened her with accomplice charges on Olivia's death if she didn't tell me what really happened. As it was, she'd been the reason we almost got killed at McFarland's lake house."

Angel explained that Rachel tracked Ethan's GPS and got Joaquin involved. She thought she had the whole story on Bryce, but she'd only poked a sleeping grizzly when she called Joaquin. The guy had his own motive and a taste for killing.

"Poor Olivia," he said. "She probably thought Bryce's hara.s.sment would stop after she took that video."

"Yeah, but after Bryce went to Rachel, everything got worse for her," Angel said. "What Olivia did was really wrong, but I can understand her outrage. She had to feel helpless and angry after being raped, especially since she didn't feel that she could go to the police."

"She picked the wrong guy to mess with. Did Bryce tell Rachel the truth...about both a.s.saults and how this all started?" he asked.

"No. Apparently he lied to her like he did with us. He wasn't about to tell her what really happened, but that didn't matter. Rachel had her own scheme when it came to Ethan. She would've done anything to get Olivia out of the way, so she could have him to herself."

Angel had only gotten started on what she thought of Rachel Blevins. Once she got going, she couldn't stop.

"I can see Rachel blowing things up," she said. "After Olivia was dead and couldn't defend her reputation, Rachel painted a dark picture of her s.e.x life and made her out to be a time bomb of scandal, ready to go off. The woman's a real conniver, and she had Bryce wrapped around her finger."

Angel told him that Rachel admitted to getting Bryce to plant the BDSM gear in Olivia's home to embarra.s.s her in death. She'd even contrived the stalker letters. That's why she never filed a police complaint, but after the last letter came in and seemed legit, she couldn't blame them on Olivia. That meant she had another person to accuse, a mysterious stalker that would always cast the shadow of doubt on who had really killed Olivia.

"Rachel just didn't know all the facts about what went on between Olivia, Bryce, and Joaquin. Too bad for her," he said.

Cronan felt exhaustion creeping up on him. His eyes became heavy as the pain meds kicked in.

"Who do you think Olivia had s.e.x with before she was killed?" Angel asked.

"With Joaquin and Bryce dead, I'm not sure we'll ever know for sure. No DNA. Since she had zero tolerance for Bryce, my money is on Joaquin. He had to be the mystery texter, too. I can see him enticing her with s.e.x, to lure her to Oz Park to kill her."

Cronan had good reason to believe Joaquin had a special connection to Olivia Davenport. Yesterday, when his throat felt better and he was able to talk, he called Simone Moreau on his cell from the hospital. He told Angel that he had to know the truth about the people Simone had chosen to protect for the sake of her business enterprise. The French woman filled in the gaps on how Olivia met Joaquin at Chez Moreau, now that he was dead and no longer a client.

The s.e.xual chemistry between Olivia and Joaquin had been palpable. Simone said he had a way with women. He made them feel desired and beautiful. He became a dangerous affair for Olivia, a man she thought she could control with s.e.x, but Joaquin had no intention of trusting her with his freedom. After he saw her recording what he did to Bryce, that sealed her fate.

"Rachel was up to her neck in guilt when it came to Tim McFarland's staged suicide," Angel said. "I got her to cop to being an accomplice to his killing after I threatened to link her to Olivia's murder through Joaquin. She confessed that Bryce killed the neighbor and made it look like a suicide. She said the idiot kept the front door key. That p.i.s.sed her off. Her words, not mine. But she cursed your name when she found out that you were like a pit bull when it came to that missing key."

"I guess Bryce worried her. He was the c.h.i.n.k in her armor."

"To be exact, she called him *the screw up that would eventually get her nailed.' She might've been right about that, but the bonehead move was hers when she called Joaquin."

Rachel had told Angel that Joaquin had pulled her aside on the evening of Ethan's concert and offered his help, discreetly of course. She'd become so desperate to get rid of Bryce that she eventually offered to pay Joaquin to kill the guy so McFarland's front door key would be found on his body. That would make it easy to a.s.sume he'd killed the neighbor and Olivia. Bryce had history with both of them. Her plan would've worked. He would've been an easy mark. Bryce looked like a fanatical and overzealous friend to Ethan who'd gone too far to protect him. Since there was no evidence linked to Joaquin, Rachel might've walked away clean if her hired killer hadn't gotten shot to death.

The burner phone had been planted on McFarland in an attempt to link him to Olivia's death. When that didn't work, because of Gabe's eye for detail and McFarland's missing key, Rachel had to scramble for another plan.

"So the one thing we did right was stay alive. That must've p.i.s.sed her off." Cronan kept his half-lidded eyes on the road ahead, fighting the need to sleep, but he pictured Rachel's face in his mind. He imagined what she looked like when Angel got her confession.

Score one for the good guys.

Cronan shut his eyes and quit talking. When the road noise nudged him toward sleep, he gave in and let it happen.

Angel opened Gabe's front door and watched his reaction as he walked in. Before he came home, she'd made changes to his place to make it easier for him to get around in his condition. It would take time for him to be back at full strength. She'd moved his bed from the loft upstairs to the lower level. His bed, with fresh linens, dominated the room now-and her thoughts. When she'd made the bed, she ran a hand over his pillow and imagined him naked under the covers. Even now, she pictured him there, and her heart beat faster. It was just the two of them, alone for the first time at his home.

Gabriel stood at the door and looked around. His expression was hard to read, and he hadn't said a word.

"You did this?" he said as he turned toward her.

"Yeah. I thought..." She stopped when he finally smiled and pulled her into his arms.

"Thank you. Exactly what I needed." He grinned. "You even put food and water down for Jack."

"Yeah, remind me to tell you how we met. I had to bribe him with treats so he'd let me stay."

"Jack thinks we're married."

"You could do worse."

Gabriel ran a hand through her hair and kissed her, sweet and gentle. Angel could have stayed wrapped in his arms forever. She loved the way his lips felt on hers. As his partner before she met Manny, she'd stared at his lips before and wondered what they would taste like, what he would be like as a lover.

After she told him how she felt-dared to say the words that she loved him-she knew what the next step would be. He'd become the fantasy lover in her sleep. Staring into his eyes now, she knew the fantasy was about to turn real. She'd wondered when it would happen. After being shot, she didn't know how he'd feel.

Gabriel didn't say a word. He nuzzled her neck and slowly unb.u.t.toned her blouse, touching her body with a tenderness she hadn't expected.

"Are you up for this?" she whispered.

"You have no idea." In one snap, he undid her lacy bra and ran a hand over her breast. "I want you, Angel. Help me take a shower?"

She stared into his intense blue eyes, reliving all the times she had pictured him in her dreams. Ethan might've stirred her fire for having a man in her life, but Gabriel had been the one she'd pictured most. He was her partner. She wasn't supposed to feel that way toward him, but she did.

"We have to take this slow," she whispered. Gooseb.u.mps raced across her skin when he licked her ear. "We take care of your wound...and I'm in charge. You do exactly what I say."

"You read my mind."

She took his hand to lead him into the room. When he reached to pull her to him, she stopped him. Angel made him stand without touching her. One by one she undid the b.u.t.tons of his s.h.i.+rt. Her heart hammered harder when she slipped her fingers to his jeans and unzipped them. Even though his eyes watched every move she made, she saw him fighting to hold back. He wanted to touch her, but he did as he was told.

After she slid the s.h.i.+rt off his broad, muscled shoulders and let it drop to the floor, she ran the tip of her tongue over his nipples until they tightened into nubs. Angel inched closer and slipped her hands into his jeans. She loved how his body reacted. He gasped and cradled her head to his chest.

When she had him completely naked, with his clothes strewn at his feet, she stepped back and took a long look. Except for the bandage on his chest, Gabriel was everything she'd ever imagined in her fantasies. Tall, muscled body, long legs, and a taut belly she wanted to run her fingers over.

The length of his engorged p.e.n.i.s took her breath away.

"Hold that thought and get the water running. I'll find something to protect your bandage," she told him.

Angel found what she needed in his kitchen. After she covered his bandage to keep it dry, she took off her clothes and joined him in the steamy shower.

She knew Gabe wanted to feel stronger, but he wasn't. Blood loss and the bullet wound had taken a toll on his stamina, and he was short of breath. She had to be the aggressor and take what she wanted, without hurting him.

"I got this, Gabriel. Let me know if I'm hurting you."

"But that's..." He ran a soapy hand between her legs and pulled her into his chest. "...exactly what I want. Hurt me."

She forced him to sit on a tiled ledge as she washed every inch of him in a slow sudsy sponge bath. When it came to her turn, he bathed her with his hands in soapy, sensual caresses. Angel straddled him with her skin slathered in suds, and she nuzzled into his body, grinding until she was ready for him.

She used her fingers to slide him into her, and his size made her gasp. Her eyes stung with tears as she took his length deep inside. Stiff and hard, he shoved into her, and she did the rest. Her hips undulated as she rode his c.o.c.k in and out. When he wanted to push harder, she took over and thrust faster. He panted and cried out as she moved.

"Oh, baby. You make me so...hard."

He held her back with one hand. With the other, his fingers found the sweet spot that sent a rush of heat through her.

"Oh...yes." She shut her eyes and winced in pleasure as he stroked her. "Yes. That's it. Oh, G.o.d."

Gabe cried out when he came. His voice echoed in the shower stall, and his body convulsed in consuming spasms. She felt the throbbing swell of Gabe's erection as he spilled into her. The instant he let go, Angel shuddered with an o.r.g.a.s.m that swept over her, wave after wave. She clutched him to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as her muscles clamped tighter to grasp every inch of him.

Angel straddled his lap, exhausted and spent, and collapsed in his arms. She didn't let him see the tears spilling from her eyes as she held on to him. Making love to Gabriel, she'd finally let go of the grief that had left her mired in the past. She didn't feel broken anymore. It had been a very long time since she'd been so happy.

Two weeks later.

The last weekend before Cronan went back to work part-time, he had something he had to do alone. He had a ritual that he hadn't told anyone about. Not even Angel knew the way he truly closed a case.

It wasn't that he didn't want Angel to come with him to put flowers on Olivia Davenport's grave, or that he thought she wouldn't understand. He did it to break his connection with the dead and let them go. He did it for him. It was his deeply personal way of saying good-bye, a practice that stemmed from the lingering nightmare of his parents' grisly murders.

The sun had dipped below the horizon and shadows closed in as he drove through the wrought iron gates of the cemetery where the Davenports had buried their daughter, Olivia. He drove past stone angels and rows of headstones that covered the pristine grounds. Because he'd been shot, he missed Olivia's funeral, but he would've come on his own anyway.

Memories of his parents rushed through his mind, the good with the bad. Every time he said good-bye to another victim of senseless violence, he thought of his mother and father, too. After he parked, Cronan reached across the pa.s.senger seat for the lilies he would put on her grave, and climbed out of his Crown Vic. The chill of nightfall carried on the faint breeze as he walked to where the custodian told him.

He didn't have to search for Olivia's headstone. As he approached the fresh grave, located under a tree, Cronan heard a distinctive sound on the evening air. It made him stop.

Ethan Chandler stood over Olivia's grave, playing his violin.

Cronan didn't have to appreciate cla.s.sical music to understand the pain he heard in every note. He listened as the guy played a haunting melody that carried on the wind. He'd never heard anything so beautiful. Something about the headstones and the stillness had touched him, too.

Ethan wasn't alone.

Looking stunning and dressed in black, Simone Moreau stared at Cronan from her spot in the shadows under the tree, with a sad smile on her face. She raised a hand to her lips and blew him a kiss. In that graceful gesture, he knew she would not come to him.

Simone had come for Ethan.

An ugly trial was ahead for him. Rachel Blevins would shed light on all the sordid details of what had happened to his girl. The guy had lost everyone who meant anything to him. In a strange way, Cronan knew exactly how that felt. Ethan would need a friend he could count on. For his sake, Cronan hoped that would be Simone, but the truth was that he didn't know if the beautiful and exotic French woman had it in her to be the companion he would need.

Ethan's questionable future only made Cronan think of Angel.

Thoughts of her filled his mind as he shut his eyes and listened to the stirring cry of the violin at dusk. He breathed in the cool night air, grateful to be alive. For the first time since he'd lost his parents, Cronan felt loved.

Dedication.

If you're going to walk on thin ice, you may as well dance. This book is dedicated to all those willing to take risks and embrace new beginnings.

Acknowledgments.

No book is written in a vacuum without an author having plenty of support. I'd like to thank my patient husband, John, who constantly amazes me how encouraging he can be. He's the cornerstone to every hero I will ever write. I'm blessed to have my parents and my brothers and sisters in my corner, too.

I'd like to give a shout out to all the talented authors on my group blog at The Kill Zone and the community of steadfast followers who make our blogging efforts feel like a chat with good friends. TKZ has been named "Top 101 Websites for Writers" by Writers Digest for 2013. We are honored.

To the many writer friends who supported me with this project and over the years by being role models, I want to thank Alicia Dean, Desiree Holt, Sharon Sala, Merline Lovelace, Linda Castillo, Allison Brennan, Alexandra Sokoloff, Brett Battles, Joe Moore, James Houston Turner, and the fierce Mel Odom.

Last but certainly not least, I want to give special thanks to my agent, Meredith Bernstein. She is a force of nature with a big heart and uber-chic vintage clothing.

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