Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (194 page)

And then, in the utter nothingness, she heard it.

That doorbell. Her heart sank.

“Oh, Nick—I don’t want to see this.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know why I chose this memory.” She turned away. “Make it stop.”

“Are you certain?”

The fear in her muffled cry was enough. Nick was just about to end the construct when she grasped his hand.

“No, wait. Let it go on.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” She sounded like a terrified child.

The construct-Hope heard the doorbell, stood up with baby Chloe fast asleep in her arms, and walked over to the door.

Hope didn’t need to listen to what the two marines had to say—she could never forget the day she learned that her husband of two years and father of their beautiful baby had been killed in Fallujah when his jeep went over an IED.

She watched her younger self take the news, the papers, the medal. The younger Hope Matheson saw the marines out, then sat quietly again in the glider with Chloe. But it didn’t feel the way it had then, not at all.

This memory she’d avoided for so long should have torn her apart, but something unexpected happened. In the midst of reliving it, she felt the emotional and spiritual equivalent of a warm, powerful embrace. Though not in her ears, she heard a distinct, paternal voice. It wasn’t Nick’s, she was certain of that. It was filled with love and strength, saying,

// I AM THERE //

Don’t you mean, you were there?

// I
AM
THERE //

The construct faded.

They were now standing inside a white void.

Nick, who seemed not to have heard the voice, looked concerned.

“I said significant. I’m sorry, Hope—I should have asked you to think of a happy memory. Are you all right?”

“Yes, surprisingly.” The memory was still there but not the devastation and despair that had always gone with it. “How about this one?”

This time when she opened her eyes they were standing with a crowd of people in the pews of San Loreno’s, the church where she and her second husband had been married.

The happy couple stood before the guests outside the church and posed for photos as a storm of confetti and rice flew their way. Four-year-old Chloe stood between her mother and new stepfather, Damien Suarez.

“That’s better,” Nick said. “But wait, that man—”

“He was caught in the same crossfire as Chloe.”

“I remember now. Forgive me, but you don’t seem sad over his loss.”

“Oh, Damien was charming and Chloe just loved him to pieces, and I was desperate for someone to help us out. But then he started gambling—at least I learned he’d been gambling—two months into the marriage. Behind my back he was selling my things, even some things of Brandon’s I’d kept. When I confronted him about it, he...Anyway, the day he and Chloe were killed, he said he was taking her to school. But after I found out they were caught in the crossfire of a drug-related crime, I wondered how far his lies went.”

She watched little Chloe in a flower girl’s dress smiling, waving to the people waving at her.

“Guess we’ll never know, will we?” she said softly. And all at once, like a flash flood, the memories of loss, abuse, all the things that had driven her to end her life swept over her. She held onto Nick’s arms for support.

“Please, can we end this construct now?”

“Say no more.”

Back into the white void.

Where, to her surprise, the same voice spoke to her soul. Now it came in a still, small whisper.

“I am there, Hope. Your past, your future, I am there.”

A little more gradually this time, the pain attached to the memories of Chloe’s death eased. Slow as it was, Hope sensed that this too was being lifted from her. She would be stronger than before, with a chance to overcome her past and enjoy her future—something that until now she never thought she’d see.

It helped her to focus on Nick’s deep blue eyes. The face of an angel.

“Did you hear it, Nick?”

“What?”

“That voice.” She shut her eyes trying to remember its pitch, its timbre. “It kept saying, ‘I am there.’ And when it said that, the terrible pain from my worst memories seemed to ease, as if I’d awoken from a nightmare. ”

“Ah, yes.”

“It wasn’t you…Was it?”

“No, it was probably Him.” Nick pointed upwards. “He’s been known to reach through time and by His mere presence, change everything for humans. For the better, of course. You only need to be open to it, as you obviously are.”

“Yes, but you led me here, helped me find...I don’t know what else to call it but healing. It’s like I’ve been set free from a prison I didn’t know existed.” She hugged him tight. “How can I ever thank you?”

“No need,” he said, lifting her chin to look into her eyes. “I just want you to know one thing, Hope. I’m breaking all kinds of angel laws, but I’m going to say it anyway.”

She fixed her gaze on him. It seemed like the sun was rising behind him, illuminating his head, his shoulders, with golden light.

“From the day I first saw you,” he said, “I sensed a connection. Angels and mortals aren’t permitted to share this connection, yet there it was. I had no idea I’d see you again so soon. And under such...different circumstances.”

“What circumstances?”

“You know, meeting you at the point of despair.”

“And saving me! Opening my eyes to a whole new perspective.” She took his hands. “You’re everything a guardian angel should be.”

“I’m not a guardian.” His expression sobered. “Sometimes I wonder how much of an angel I really am.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I’ve got a past.”

“We’ve all got one.”

“Mine’s longer.”

She shot him a look. Remembering something that painful and still making wisecracks?

“Would it help to talk about it?”
Oh, sure. I’m counseling an angel.

“I’ve never shared it with anyone,” Nick said, “and I don’t think talking about it will help much, right now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, I just—”

“But perhaps I can show you.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

FOR OVER A CENTURY, NICK had kept his past to himself. He’d done his best to sweep that blip in history under the rug, though it was highly improbable that no one in the Angel Forces knew.

Now, having jeopardized everything to save the woman he’d been assigned to destroy, he felt the need to be known, understood. Perhaps absolved.

“Show me?” Hope’s face was alight with curiosity.

“Haven’t you wondered why I revealed myself to you the way I did?”

She shook her head. “I’m still trying to get my head around what you are.”

“When I first saw you, back in the hospital where Chloe died, I looked into your eyes. You reminded me of a person I fell in love with and lost, tragically. And Chloe reminded me of someone just as dear to me.”

“Can angels fall in love?”

“They can. And with humans, too, although that’s strictly forbidden.” The laws, those blasted laws. As he re-opened the wounds of the past, they returned to him.

An angel shall not become emotionally involved with a mortal.

An angel shall not become physically involved with a mortal.

An angel shall not marry or sire offspring with a mortal.

An angel shall not heal a mortal except by proper authorization...

“I shouldn’t have allowed myself, but I couldn’t help it.”

“Who was she?”

“Her name was Sophia.” Nick waved his hand, and before them the blank canvas of light began morphing into London in the early 1900s.

#

LONDON, ENGLAND 1907

He’d been watching her for about five years now, traveling from the mortal planes to the great beyond. Nikolai knew better than to tarry between assignments, but given the scope of eternity he didn’t think anyone in the Angel Forces would notice.

He followed her invisibly with fascination and, yes, admiration—she was the loveliest young woman he’d seen over the past millennium.

Carrying on her arm a basket full of fruit from Bailey’s Market, she walked at a brisk pace, easily averting a crowd of people entering the doors under the huge signs:

DISTRICT RAILWAY

VICTORIA STATION

FREQUENT TRAINS TO CITY AND ALL PARTS OF LONDON & SUBURBS

He marveled at her alacrity. She soared past the Earl’s Court Exhibition, past the R.P. Beattie Specialty in Plumbing billboard, past the row of horse-drawn cabs parked along the road.

Her eyes—topaz set in alabaster—sparkled when she saw the man seated at the bistro table down the road. He wore a black frock coat, something you saw less and less of these days, and a hat he took off as he stood and waved.

“Sophia!”

She rushed over, stopping just short of a frontal collision. Judging by the sheer joy on her face, Nick expected her to throw her arms around the man.

“Oh Albert, I’m so happy you sent for me. Do forgive this frightful basket—I had to make up some sort of excuse to convince Mother I needed to go out.”

“Please, won’t you join me?”

“Thank you. Lovely morning, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Quite.” He pulled out a chair and seated her.

Nikolai hovered about them, observing with the keenest interest. Sophia nodded her thanks as a waiter brought tea to the table, but her eyes were so fixed on Albert she never even looked at her cup. Sitting on the edge of her chair, smiling so wide it must surely hurt, she exuded excitement.

“Now, Sophia. We’ve known each other for about two years now.”

“Twenty-five months, three weeks, two days...”

“Right. In any case—”

“And seventeen hours.” She covered her smile with her gloved hand, then looked up innocently at him. “Sorry.” She shuddered, then hugged her arms. “It’s my nerves. I always shiver when I’m excited.”

Albert did not smile. “In any case, it occurred to me that you and your family might be wondering what my intentions are.”

“Yes?” she said, a little squeak in her voice.

“And so...” He reached into his coat pocket.

“Oh, yes, Albert! Yes, yes, and again, yes!” She jumped up, no doubt to throw herself into his arms—

“Yes what, Sophia? I haven’t even told you yet.”

“Sorry.” She sat back down, still smiling. “Please, go on.”

He pulled out an envelope and set it on the table.

“Sophia, I’m calling it all off.”

Now the smile faded. The face fell.

“You’re...? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Please don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be. I can’t marry you. We should have seen this coming.”

She said nothing. Her face, in despair, looked so different. Nikolai could hardly bear it.

Albert reached across the table to take her hands but she pulled them back, still staring into the air straight at Nikolai, as though asking him,
Why?

“In the long run, when you’re older, you’ll understand. We’re just not...” He looked up, also in Nikolai’s direction, as though asking his help finding the word. “We’re not
compatible
.”

She didn’t respond. Gone from her face was the joy, the innocence, all that made her who she was.

“Sophia?”

She finally turned to face Albert, and spoke. With each word her voice lowered in volume but rose in intensity.

“Thank you for your honesty, though it took you twenty-five months, three weeks, two days, and seventeen hours to come up with it.”

“As I’ve said, in the long run you’ll understand.” He slid the envelope over to her. “Here.”

Instead of looking at it she turned away in Nikolai’s direction.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want it,” she said. Her veil of courage and dignity was gossamer-thin, but oh, how he admired her for it.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Take it!”

“I have no interest in your...
envelope
.” Sophia glanced down at the table as though it were covered with dung.

“Don’t you even want to know what’s in it?”

Sophia stood up. “I think I’d rather leave, Albert.”

“It’s a portion of the money you might have enjoyed had we—”

She snatched the envelope, opened the flap, held the envelope over Albert without looking inside, glanced up in Nikolai’s direction...

Go on, now
.
That’s my girl.

...and poured coins and bills all over Albert’s head.

“What!” Albert didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. “Are you out of your mind?”

“You can keep your money, Albert.” She grabbed her cup of tea and threw it in his face. “And do with it something anatomically improbable!”

Though she could not perceive his presence, Nikolai smiled and bowed as she walked away, head held high to show Albert what
she
thought of him and his pathetic attempt at appeasing what
he
probably thought of as his conscience.

#

PRESENT DAY

The entire construct paused like a DVR movie.

“You haven’t changed,” Hope said.

“Angels don’t age,” Nick said, wistfully regarding the young construct-Sophia. A sharp pain behind his eyes made him struggle not to grimace.