A Cold Day in Hell (17 page)

“Is this from Eileen’s house?” Matt said.

“No,” Chuzah said. He took a casing from his other trouser pocket and handed it over. “This is the one from Eileen’s backyard, from the trees there on that lot next door.” He bowed to her slightly. “I hope it was acceptable for me to go there and see if I could be of help. Aaron seemed to think it would be.”

This man, Angel thought, either knew how to get around fast, or…Or what? He was…a shape-shifter? Angel almost laughed at himself.

Matt gave the evidence a glare and muttered, “So much for getting fingerprints.” He indicated the first casing again. “This was found near your place? What do you mean?”

“Not exactly near my place,” Chuzah said. “In the vicinity. I’m not sure how it came to be there but decided to bring it to you since it resembles the one from Eileen’s property.”

The rhythmic nod of Eileen’s head suggested she’d stopped taking any of this in.

“How could you find this second one?” Matt said to Chuzah. “How did you know where to look?”

“Oh,” Chuzah said. “With Aaron’s help, of course. And my dog always knows where to find whatever is lost.”

“Why didn’t you give me these when you got here?” Matt said.

“I knew you’d want Angel and Eileen here for that,” Chuzah told him.

From the color of Matt’s face, from his gritted teeth, Angel could tell he was about to blow, but then Chuck Moggeridge walked through the door.

“Where’s Aaron?” he said to Eileen, walking directly toward her. “I’ve been looking for both of you. I decided to walk in here and see if they knew anything that would help me. It looks like Aaron should move in with me—that way I can make sure—”

Eileen shot to her feet. “Aaron will do what he wants to do.”

Matt’s phone rang and he reached to turn off his speaker before picking up.

“I think you should get out of here,” Angel told Chuck.
Hate
was a big word but it definitely described how he felt about Chuck.

Barking one-word answers, Matt’s tone cut through the tension. He looked at them but obviously didn’t see them. Then he hung up. “Angel,” he said. “I’d like you to come with me to the landfill.”

“Y
ou’ll stay in the car when we get to the landfill, Eileen,” Matt said. “I only let you come because I couldn’t leave you there with Chuck hanging around.”

Seated behind him in the cruiser, she looked at the back of Matt’s head. “Thanks for that.” She caught an over-the-shoulder glance from Angel. His frustration with the situation showed but he smiled at her.

They headed north through town, passed buildings Eileen had looked at all of her life. They got to the trailer park and she noticed the streetlights were on. Day was getting squeezed out.

“Are you going to explain what this is all about?” Angel said to Matt.

“We’ll be there soon enough. I don’t have all the facts myself. That Chuzah’s a case.”

“He’s all right,” Angel said.

“He’s very thoughtful and kind,” Eileen added. Chuzah was on his way back to his “estate” where he would suggest Sonny and Aaron remain until they were contacted.

Matt barked out a laugh. “He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” he said. “Thoughtful and kind? What have you been drinking? Look at him. He’s a mystery and I don’t have any way of figuring him out—yet. That really gets to me.”

“Why would you want to figure him out?” Eileen said, annoyed. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Again, Matt laughed aloud. “As far as
you
know.”

“And you know better?”

“I know the guy’s a chameleon,” Matt said. “There’s a whole lot of people in Pointe Judah who would as soon swim with cottonmouths and gators as get any attention from Chuzah. If you saw his place, you’d know what I mean. I don’t get why you’d let those boys be out there.”

“We’ve seen his place,” Angel said, without inflection.

“It’s interesting,” Eileen said. Matt Boudreaux wasn’t going to back her into a corner.

“You’ve seen it? Why? Why would you go there?”

“Angel and I like new experiences,” Eileen said, feeling silly. “And Chuzah invited us in.” That wasn’t a total lie.

“You didn’t have to go.”

“We wanted to,” Eileen said. “Most people around here are boring. He’s not.”

Matt grunted but didn’t ask if he she counted him among the boring. “Don’t you wonder why he’s living out there when he has money? He’s got to have money. Look at him today—he didn’t buy those duds with green stamps. But you like him, Eileen?”

“I do,” she said staunchly. Angel trusted Chuzah and she trusted Angel’s instincts.

“He is a handsome guy. Film-star material is what Carley calls him.”

“That’s not why I like him,” Eileen said immediately.

Matt applied his brakes for a stop sign, then started out along the winding road she could drive with her eyes shut. The landfill was at the end of a dirt track that ran from the switchback road where her parents had built their house years ago. Part of her wished she could still go there and visit the memories, but money from the sale had changed her life for the better. Thanks to Finn’s generosity.

“This is it,” Matt said and took a left. The dirt track ran between dense trees. “Get ready for the stench.”

A wide metal gate stood open in a tall wire fence. Eileen winced at the smell seeping into the car even though the windows were shut.

Just ahead, Officer Sampson leaned on the side of another cruiser with a shiny-faced new member of the force. Eileen didn’t know the woman’s name but she was small and pretty—and eager from the way she bounced on the balls of her black lace-ups.

Sampson saw Matt’s car before it drove past the gate and into a turnaround.

Matt stopped, cracked the windows open about an inch, and got out of the car. Angel followed him. “Hang in there, Eileen,” was all he said.

Patronizing piece of male arrogance,
she thought. “And now I sit here like a good little girl.” What made this scene suitable for a female kid cop, but not for Eileen?

She had thanked Matt for letting her get away from a potential confrontation with Chuck, not for telling her to stay in his car. Bowing her head, she listened hard and Sampson’s loud voice carried to her easily. “It’s back this way, Chief. I didn’t call for more backup. Thought you’d want to make up your mind what’s next.”

They walked away and she lost sight of them when they went along a path between towering heaps of refuse.

She counted to five and slid out, then ran to the point where the
grown-ups
had turned. Holding her nose, she stood against the nearest mountain of garbage and peered around the corner. They were heading straight back through the lot and moving fast.

Eileen scuttled past the opening to the next break and turned in there. Jogging to make up time, she moved rapidly until she heard voices again. She couldn’t imagine how anyone could work around this place unless they wore a gas mask.

Ahead lay an area of more open ground. When she reached the last patch of decent cover, Eileen stopped to listen more closely. The rest of them were fairly near and she dared a peep.

Angel stood with the other three and what appeared to be two landfill workers, not far from a fresh-looking rubbish mound. Several high-powered lanterns, set on the ground, gave off garish light.

Both workers stood with one foot on a shovel and their wrists balanced on top of the handles.

Sampson, brilliant flashlight in hand, pointed at something. Eileen had no idea what, but her stomach turned.

“Damn,” Matt said. “Who would know the poor devil?”

Angel spoke up. “You brought me here to look at this?” he said. His voice was steady but too somber. “Still want me to look, or have you made up your mind it’s pointless?”

“You’re a cold son of a bitch,” Matt said. “I was reacting to the obvious. He’s a mess. Sure I want you to look. If it’s who we think it is, you should be able to ID him.”

Eileen stepped from her place, she couldn’t help it. She wanted to be with Angel. She didn’t want him to be alone and facing something awful, even if he
was
a strong man.

While she walked, unnoticed, toward the group concentrating on him, Angel got close to the garbage and knelt down. He turned his head sideways but didn’t say anything.

“I’m already here so don’t you start with me, Matt Boudreaux.”

Matt looked at her as if she were a phantom. Then he shook his head and said, “You’re going to regret not doing what I told you to do.” He turned away again.

“Don’t come any closer, Eileen,” Angel said. “You don’t need to see this.”

She hesitated but then approached a little closer.

“What do you think?” Matt said.

“I think someone killed him and tried to burn him,” Angel responded. He looked again. “He’s been scalded. Look at his skin.”

“We need a full team,” Matt said.

Sampson turned to his female companion and said, “You know what to do. Isaacs, call it in.”

“You should have done that as soon as you saw this,” Matt said. “Holding off just wasted time.”

Sampson turned red. “Sorry, Chief. I thought you’d want to see first.”

Matt said, “Thanks. Don’t do me any favors next time. Is it Bucky Smith?” he added to Angel.

“I don’t know him,” Angel said. “You’ll need to get Leland Garolfo in here—and the guys he shared quarters with.”

A face, or what had been a face, showed between layers of junk. Eileen sucked in a breath. Acid rose to her throat and she put a hand over her nose and mouth.

The eyes were open but coated milky white…as if they’d been…cooked. A deep breath didn’t help her. The eyelids were completely gone. She took another step, drawn to the corpse by pity. It had been a man but she seemed to be the only one remembering that fact. His hair, an unrecognizable color but flattened to his head in stiff strips, had hunks of things caught in it.

“What’s in his hair?” she asked. “It looks like food.”

Matt made a move as if he’d cut off her view. He changed his mind and got closer to the dead man instead.

“It
is
food,” Angel said. “Shrimp tails, among other things. God—it’s fried.”

“I thought it was,” Eileen said. She arrived immediately behind Angel. “Where was he?”

“In a Dumpster,” Matt said. His nostrils flared.

“I figured that,” Eileen told him. There was no point in getting touchy. “But where was the Dumpster?”

“That’s going to be something we’ll have to find out,” Matt said.

One of the workers punched the point of his spade into the rocky ground. “We know where each new load comes in from. This is from Ona’s.”

E
ileen walked into the original Mansion building ahead of Angel. It felt strange to be there so late.

Colored lights sparkled on the Christmas tree in the soaring lobby, but low security lighting, turned on for the night, still cast eerie shadows behind the marble pillars and in the doorways of businesses.

“Home sweet home,” Angel said, although he knew any attempt at humor would fall flat. Holding Eileen’s hand, he walked to the private elevator, set down her overnight bag and pressed the button. The door opened immediately and they stepped in. He’d had a hard time persuading her to come here after she was told she couldn’t be in her house until the police had finished with it. At last she’d gathered enough clothes to get by with over the next day and come with him.

In the small elevator, they leaned on opposite walls. Eileen couldn’t look away from Angel’s eyes. He touched her with his stare. They had been through hell together today and she felt even closer to him. The breath she took was too shallow. Her heart beat fast and hard.

The elevator bumped to a stop and the door slid open.

Neither of them moved until the door started to close again and Angel slammed out a hand to make it stop. He’d rather not move at all.

“Here we go,” he said, and smiled at her.

Apart from a single lamp in the foyer, the suite was in darkness. Eileen stood in front of a black console table with brass feet and the portrait of a woman in a period riding habit sitting sidesaddle on a black horse. The rider’s serene eyes stared straight ahead from her gilt frame.

Coming up behind, Angel rested his chin on her shoulder and she jumped. “Cute, huh?” he said. His hands settled at her waist.

“I don’t think she would have understood that compliment.” The urge to lean against him almost won. “Just point me in the right direction. I promise I’ll be gone before you and Finn get here in the morning.”

That was supposed to be a good thing? “The bed’s in a small room, but it’s private. You can get up when you feel like it.” He watched the way she turned her head sideways to look at a Sèvres vase and cachepot.

He held the back of her neck under her hair and ran his thumb back and forth. She shuddered, and he smiled. They were both caught in the same thrall and he hoped she didn’t want to break it any more than he did.

They moved through the suite and he turned the lights on low as they went.

“You do think it’s the right thing to let Aaron and Sonny stay at Chuzah’s tonight?” Angel asked. “You think it’s safe?”

“I believe so. Chuzah will call us, and Matt, if he thinks there’s a problem.”

She tried to take her bag from him but he wouldn’t let her. “I’m not helpless,” she said. “But, thanks. Mah-jongg. Who’d have thought they’d be interested? I think you’re right—our suave swamp man is okay. I like him.”

He likes you, too.
He probably enjoyed any sexy female, after all, he was all man even if he did hang out in kaftans a lot. Angel knew there was nothing to fear from Chuzah, at least not for the boys. “I’m glad you feel the way I do. It makes like easier. I like having Chuzah on our side—anyone who wants to get at the boys now will have to go through him.” He stepped in front of her, tilted up her chin and kissed her mouth quickly. Just as rapidly, he returned to her side and guided her through the suite.

“What was that about?” she asked, knowing perfectly well. They both wanted to touch, to taste.

“You needed a kiss,” he said, smiling to himself. And when she widened her eyes at him, he said, “So did I. Do I.” Suddenly he didn’t feel like smiling anymore. Being with her, now, was like carrying a grenade—pull that pin and everything would go up.

The room he used when he worked so late he didn’t want to go home was at the end of a passageway between Finn’s office and Angel’s. He went into the very small space and put Eileen’s bag on a chair. “There’s a closet,” he said, sliding a mirrored door open. “And the bathroom’s over here.” He opened the door and put on a light.

Eileen puckered her brows together. The one thing missing was a bed.

With his hands on the hips of his dark pants, his khaki shirt open at the neck to reveal dark hair, and a pleased grin on his face, Angel looked devilish. He was, she figured, waiting for her to ask about the bed.

Wait on, buddy.

His chest expanded and Eileen enjoyed the view. She glanced downward and away. Some things a man couldn’t hide. Her heart began pounding again.

“This is great,” she said. “I’ll be just fine. I’m glad you’ll be back at your house tonight.”

He wouldn’t, Angel thought, contemplating absenting himself until the pain she created subsided—if it did. “How about a little brandy first?”

From her frown, he thought she’d refuse.

“Okay. But I’m aching to take a shower, so we should be quick.”

“You take your shower,” he said at once. “I’d like to look through the rest of my mail, then I’ll get the brandy. And you might like to have this for later.” He pressed a paneled wall and caught the edge of a platform bed hidden there. When it pulled down there was almost no extra space in the room.

“We could have the brandy now,” she said, turning pink over her cheekbones. Eileen had slightly olive skin and a blush was charming.

“No way.” He wanted her soft and warm and ready for bed. He wanted to torture himself some more. “You go ahead and get comfortable. Anyway, if there’s a call I need to return I can’t wait any later.”

She wanted to tell him it was already too late for business calls, but didn’t. “Okay, I won’t be long.” The bed beckoned and she’d like to flop onto the mattress, preferably with Angel beside her. Her life was complicated enough without this “falling in love” thing.

Angel pulled the door shut behind him.

Eileen stood where she was, a fine tremor passing beneath her skin. The idea that she could love him wasn’t new. Contemplating being in love with him was.

Armed with her nightgown and robe from the case, she took toiletries and went into the bathroom. She shut herself in and stripped. When it came to bathrooms, Angel definitely favored mirrors. She gave herself a jerky downturned smile in one of those mirrors, turned on the fan and figured out the shower.

Steam billowed and droplets settled on her already tingling body. She took a towel and wiped one of the mirrors. The fan took hold and the clear spot she’d made with the towel widened quickly.

She’d had Aaron when she was nineteen. Mostly she didn’t think about her age; thirty-six seemed a good number of years and she’d been blessed with a healthy body.

Assessing that body now, she felt detached. Her legs were long and smooth. Regular exercise took care of any problems there and at her hips and belly. She knew her hips and bottom were rounded, but that was her build and nobody had ever complained. Her waist remained slim, and her breasts weren’t moving toward her bellybutton yet. She chuckled.

Then she cupped her breasts and studied them. She inclined her head. Sensation awoke in her flesh. Slowly, Eileen passed her thumbs back and forth over the tips of her dark, already budded nipples. She sucked in a sharp breath and almost closed her eyes. Other parts of her throbbed. Without giving herself more time to get into trouble, she got into the shower and let hot water beat down on her head and shoulders.

Washing her hair usually distracted her. Not this time. While she let the water stream through her hair, dashing rivers of lather over her skin, she touched her breasts again, pulled lightly on her nipples and made herself stop when she wanted to stimulate herself.

Panting, she leaned against the wall and this time she did close her eyes. She had been vulnerable to Angel before, but not like this. Eileen needed him.

She toweled off and pulled on a pink cotton nightie. The dark, rigid tips of her breasts showed through. Anxiously, she tugged on a matching robe and tied it tightly at the waist. The suggestion was still there but not noticeable if you weren’t looking for it.

Getting a brush through her hair wasn’t easy and she hadn’t thought to bring a dryer. She found a smaller towel and wound it around her head. Another glance into the mirror didn’t reveal a scrubbed-looking innocent. A voluptuous, flushed woman, who looked ready for a long night without sleep, stared back at her.

She returned to the bedroom, steadied herself, and walked out into the passageway.

Angel walked back and forth at the other end. He saw her and smiled, and his gray eyes turned black, thrilling her, tensing her body all over.

“I thought I’d have to come rescue you,” he said. He’d had to stop himself from going in there. “Five more minutes and I’d have been in on my charger.”

She flipped him an arch look as she walked by. “Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere I can get you,” he said before sanity took over again. “In my office. To the left.”

Eileen heard what he said but pretended she hadn’t. Angel’s office wasn’t at all like Finn’s. Emma’s decorating touch hadn’t entered here. White walls, a single good Chinese rug in shades of red, a desk, credenza and bookshelves, a whole wall of crammed bookshelves. Apart from two deep cane chairs with gray cushions, that was it; although pale coffee-colored grass shades were lowered over the windows.

She looked at the chairs. “Should I sit in one of these?”

“Yes. They’re more comfortable than they look—or so I’m told. I never use them.”

As soon as she was seated, he gave her a brandy and dropped to sit, cross-legged, in front of her. Eileen hiked her legs sideways onto the chair—they had to be cramped—and tucked her bathrobe around them. She looked into the brandy as she swirled it. “Thank you for letting me use the bedroom here. I hope they’re finished with my house by tomorrow evening.”

Her lowered eyes made him think she was trying not to look at him. “At least they let you get some things. Matt was in such a mood, I was afraid he’d refuse.”

“He’s got a lot to deal with.” She sipped from her glass and puckered up. “Mmm, that’s good, but it’s strong. This was a horrible day.”

“Not really so horrible until later,” he told her. “I thought our walk had promise.”

He got a piercing look. “It had promise of turning into a row and don’t pretend you didn’t know that. You and Finn ambushed me with Matt. Not that it matters now.”

“Matt’s going to have to question a lot of people. He’ll have to just about take this town apart and people aren’t going to like it.”

“No.” Her expression turned sad. “That poor man. No one deserves to die like that.”

When the crime-scene team had arrived and set up their lights and paraphernalia, all too soon the full extent of what had happened to the dead man, at least on the surface, was revealed. Angel frowned at Eileen. She’d taken what must have felt like multiple punches to the gut and kept calm. A lot of men as well as women would have passed out, or at least thrown up when the layers of garbage were carefully removed from above the body and the damage was laid open.

“I think they’ll get whoever did that to him,” Angel said. “The Dumpster was picked up today, it shouldn’t be hard to pin down the window of time when he could have been put in there. And the medical examiner will have plenty to say.”

“I’ve been thinking about Ona, too,” Eileen said. “She’ll be devastated. He was probably killed in her kitchen, wasn’t he?”

There was little doubt that the guy had been shoved, head-first, into the deep-fat fryer. Angel looked away. “Probably.” Gently he smoothed his fingers up and down her shin and rubbed the tops of her feet. “Try not to keep thinking about it. We can’t change anything.”

She shook her head no.

“Chuck’s going to keep on being a nuisance. I think that worries me almost more than anything—other than the bullets flying around.” Flopping back into the chair with her glass balanced on her thigh, she stared at the ceiling. “Can you believe we’re talking about these things? Only days ago I was looking forward to Christmas. Now all I’m looking forward to is keeping all of us alive—if we’re lucky.”

“Do you think Chuck’s capable of killing someone?” he said, thinking aloud as much as asking the question.

Did she know the answer to the question? “If he was, he wouldn’t take potshots at his son. Or are you talking about Chuck killing that man? Oh, Angel, he—”

“No, I’m not. I do want to know if that’s Bucky Smith. I couldn’t identify him.”

She shuddered. “Senseless violence.”

“Hang in with me,” he said. “Would Chuck want to kill you?”

“I don’t know anymore.” She stared at him and her eyes filled with tears. “Why would he? He left me, not the other way around. Surely, I intended to divorce him, but he got there first.”

“Either someone wants to get rid of Sonny and me, or you and Aaron. With that shot in your backyard, Aaron chalked up another arrow in his direction.”

“In the bathroom at your house, you must have been the target. The more I’ve thought about it, the more convinced I’ve become that whoever was on the roof didn’t know I was there.”

He raised his brows. “What would he think I was doing in that tub? I wasn’t washing my back. And you’re one distinctive woman, Eileen. You were seen.”