Friday, December 30
The ringing alarm didn’t wake Angelica because she’d been awake for the entire night.
Serenity vanished when the uninvited after-hours guest returned.
She was teetering on the edge of insanity.
She couldn’t survive like this much longer.
What remained of her fragile peace of mind was being destroyed.
Moving here locked her nightmares away in a cell.
Sadly, they were released from jail soon after and, on parole, checked in with renewed vengeance.
But being visited by Marley’s Ghost last night is understandable.
Matt is presumed dead. They don’t call in the homicide team for a missing person. His poor sister.
Sister! Matt left her Christmas present here. Angelica went to the closet and, falling to her knees, reached toward the back. The box wasn’t there. Was this the reason he broke in? It didn’t make sense.
She sat on the bed, phone in hand, and called Garrett. He picked up on the second ring. “Angelica, are you all right?”
With her mind here, there, and everywhere, she rambled, “Yes … No … I don’t know. Remember when you asked me if anything other than my jewelry was missing from my home? Well, something is.”
“What’s missing?”
Angelica blew a strand of hair off her face, not her frustration. “Matt dropped off a gift box here for safekeeping. It’s gone. Do you think he came back for it?”
“I’m coming over. Give me thirty minutes.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you then.”
How did she end up involved in a murder investigation? Even Blankville didn’t have any homicides. There were plenty of people missing, though. Unfortunately, her relationship with Matt shattered the peace she had found in Arbortown. Perhaps her awful dreams returned because of him?
Garrett was right about her nightmares. She’s exhausted and can’t think clearly. How can she rest now that he’s not coming back? All she wanted was to sleep. She needs help, without a doubt. That thought didn’t console Angelica as her tears pooled, blurring her vision.
Teardrops wove a crooked trail down Angelica’s cheeks as she opened the front door.
Garrett’s first words were, “What’s wrong, honey?”
With her hand on her brow, Angelica moaned, “I’m falling apart.”
He put his arm around her shoulder. “No, you’re not. I’m not going to let that happen.”
Angelica sniffled and, shaking her head, her scar brazenly showed its face as her hair moved aside. “You can’t do anything about it. No one can,” she said.
Although she styled her hair so most of it fell across that side of her face, he’d seen the scar before. Garrett didn’t flinch. It reinforced one more reason he loved her and another reason it didn’t bother him.
“You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
“No, and I’m never going to sleep again. Unless ... Never mind. I need to see a mental health professional, maybe a psychiatrist. Something’s wrong with me. I can’t sleep, and I can’t stop crying.” A fresh drop slipped from her watery eyes.
Wrinkles formed on Garrett’s forehead as he assessed the woman beside him.
Was something wrong with Angelica? Yes. Was she unstable?
Yes, but not in the way someone is psychotic.
Something or someone had traumatized her, rocking her stability, and she didn’t seem to know why or who.
Could he help her? He didn’t know, but he’d try.
He took her hand and led her to the couch. “Come on, honey, let’s sit down.”
Sitting in his usual sleeping spot, Garrett draped his bandaged arm around Angelica. “I’ll take you to a mental health provider if you want.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I would,” he replied hurriedly.
Garrett realized those words were hollow, carried no weight, and conveyed nothing. He wanted, no, needed, to say more. But how much more?
“First off, I think we’re friends now, Angelica. I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and I keep my promises. If taking you to the doctor helps, I’ll do it. Is that reason enough?”
“Thank you,” Angelica said, pausing as her voice rattled. “You’re a good friend, Garrett … I’m glad I met you at the restaurant. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”
“I’m glad I was there.” He felt just as happy about meeting Angelica that night. His single act of kindness could bring him a lifetime of happiness, God willing.
Taking a breath, Angelica brushed away stray tears with the back of her hand. “But I’ve put you out.”
“Do you hear me complaining?”
“You never complain.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand why you keep coming back.”
The answer to her question came easily. Still, Garrett tucked it away for another day. “Because friends don’t desert each other when a problem arises,” he said.
Angelica sighed and leaned against him. He wondered whether it was relief or contentment; in any case, he took it as a positive sign.
His blue eyes sparkled. “Do you want to take a nap?”
“I can’t,” she groaned, toying with her fingers. “I must finish the book.”
“I tell you what, why don’t we sit here for a few minutes? Then I’ll get out of your hair so you can get back to work. We can discuss the Matthew Jenkins situation later tonight or tomorrow.”
Angelica did what she always did when in his arms—she fell asleep. Garrett did what he always did while she slept, cuddling him. He kissed her head and whispered, “I love you, Angelica.”
His thoughts raced. Angelica admitted they were friends and expressed her pleasure at meeting him. He viewed that as a big step. If he was keeping score … To hell with the points. First, she invited him back; now this. A lot of promise lies on the horizon.
Even with all the positives, her nightmares cast a shadow over everything.
He’d take her to a hundred psychiatrists if that’s what she wanted.
Despite everything, how could he convince Angelica that her “friend’s” arms were the quick fix for her nightly trips through the gates of hell?
Garrett nearly choked on his dilemma. He pulled her closer.
He meant to enjoy this moment and worry about that later.
They had been on the couch for more than a few minutes when Garrett’s ringing cell phone jolted them both awake. Angelica sat up and slid over.
After breaking his hand, he adapted to his limited dexterity.
Except for his revolver—he wasn’t ambidextrous and didn’t want to shoot the wrong person—he moved all his attachments to the opposite side.
He reached into his left back pocket and pulled out his phone.
His brow furrowed. Here we go again, Ed, the pest.
Aware of the woman beside him, he didn’t let his reply reflect the sudden change in his mood. “Hey, Ed.”
“Where the hell are you, Fitzpatricks?”
From the start, he concluded that being around Angelica brought out the best in him. He ignored his partner’s sharp comment. “I’m working on a lead.” Unlike you, with your hand in a cookie box and ass in a chair.
Garrett winked at Angelica.
“Way to go, pal! Got to keep the sheriff happy. Bickney’s been trying to reach you. He wants you to meet him at Jenkins’s body shop now. He has the search warrant.”
Look at that. Talbert becomes tame and professional when he hears someone else is working.
“I guess I was out of range of the cell tower. Tell him I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
“I’ll let him know, Garrett.”
He shook his head. The Cookie Monster Grump was his friend once more; their on-again, off-again bromance was on again. He called him by his first name.
“Thanks, Ed.” His screen went black as he ended the call.
Garrett focused on the woman beside him again. Angelica reminded him of a child, her cheek flushed from sleeping against him. He had enough sense not to mention it.
“What happened to the sporadic cell service?”
Angelica shrugged. “I think it likes you.”
Of all his damn luck, he got more calls here than at his own home. Irritated but unwilling to show it, Garrett said, “I need to go, honey. I’m sorry the phone woke you.”
A sudden twinge in his back shot into his thigh as he stood, shoving the phone into his pocket. Just think, kids dream of entering this profession.
Angelica rubbed the back of her neck. “I have to get up anyway. My deadline is looming large and loud, and I’m expected at a baby shower in Avalone tomorrow.”
She didn’t sound any happier than Garrett did about being awakened.
“That should be pleasant.”
“Yeah, quite pleasant.” Angelica rolled her eyes.
Garrett helped her off the sofa. If leaving wasn’t painful enough, he was even more disappointed when he looked at her. Ignoring her single rosy cheek, he noticed her bloodshot eyes and hunched shoulders.
He’ll never last another month in this job. The hell with it consuming him; fatigue is wearing her down. No job is worth it if it comes at Angelica’s expense. He’d cash out his IRA and sell his house if he had to.
He smiled, and, adopting the role of a chameleon, Garrett said supportively, “Everything will get better. I promise. I’ll take you to a doctor if you want. I’m here for you.”
“Thank you. I appreciate everything. I’m sorry you came over for nothing.”
If he was sorry, it’s because he couldn’t stay or come back at the same time and in the same place. She’ll have another horrible night without him holding her.
Garrett kept up his role-playing at the door. “I’ll call my favorite barmaid later,” he said with a wink.
“I won’t hold you to it,” Angelica said, hanging on the edge of the open door. “I know you’re very busy, Garrett.”
“Busy?” He arched a brow. “I’m never too busy for you, honey.”
Smiling at her, he walked out the door, his heart aching.
* * *
Angelica locked up behind Garrett and went to her desk to make the call.
Not using speed dial, she tapped the digits manually, wanting to prolong the calling process as long as possible.
Given how her day was going, she didn’t have to wait on hold, listening to smooth jazz; he was available to take her call immediately.
“Hello, Nicky …”
“Sweetheart, what a surprise. I was planning to call you tonight.”