Angel on Fire (9 page)

“I’ve been trying to answer several of those questions myself but….”  Angela’s voice trailed off as Sheriff Bates stepped onto the sand, heading directly toward them.  She felt Chase tense, although he outwardly remained calm and composed.

“Sheriff.”
 Angela offered a weak smile.

“Angela,” he replied, his usual warmth absent.  “Derrick called me a while ago suggesting you might in trouble.  Anything you want to share?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him.  “Derrick and I had words this morning.”  She shrugged unwilling to explain any further.  It really wasn’t the sheriff’s business.  Now, if he had believed her about her dad’s death, she might have been more willing to share. 

“Who’s this?”  He gestured rudely at Chase and Angela sniffed, offended by his attitude.

“Chase, I’d like you to meet Sheriff Bates.  He’s in charge of keeping law and order in Manchester.” 

Chase squeezed Angela’s hand before standing and extending his hand to the sheriff.  “It’s good to meet you, Sir.  You have a wonderful town here.  I just arrived this morning, but I’m looking forward to seeing the sights with Angela.” 

“
Hmph
,” the lawman grumped, folding his arms and making it clear that he was inspecting Chase as potential boyfriend material.  “What do you do for a living, Chase?”

“I’m in the security industry.”  The corners of his eyes crinkled at the official’s fatherly demeanor.

“Well, I guess you can keep an eye on her then,” Bates nodded.  “She seems to be attracting trouble these days. First, she was attacked in the house, then she was hit by a car, and yesterday she discovered Mac’s office had been burglarized.  You need anything, Angie, you give me a call,” he ordered as he turned to walk away.  Over his shoulder, he added, “Take care of her, Chase, or you’ll answer to me.”

“Ah, small town America where they take care of their own.”

“And everyone knows everyone else’s business.”  Angela rolled her eyes. “Chase?  Why would Dad call Uncle Zach?  And why would he send you to protect me?  He and Dad haven’t spoken or seen each other in years.”

Chase dug his fingers in the sand and watched the grains fall through his fingers.  “I didn’t know your dad, Angel, and Zach isn’t into sharing so I can’t say.  I could make a guess, but Zach would be the best person to answer your questions.”  Removing his phone from his pocket, Chase dialed his boss.  “I’ve been trying to reach him since last night.  Hopefully, he’ll pick up this morning.”

The phone rang but voicemail immediately picked up.  “Call me ASAP.  Situation has changed,” Chase announced, turning back to Angela with a slight smile.  “So, Angel, since I can’t reach Zach at the moment, what should we do today?” 

The nickname fell from Chase’s lips with apparent ease and Angela smiled faintly.  Her dad was the only other person who ever called her Angel.  She sat quietly for a moment, thinking while her hands played in the sand, picking up handfuls of dirt and letting the grains fall through her fingers.  “I want to talk to the medical examiner who handled my dad’s case.  The medical examiner’s office said a Dr. Richards signed the death certificate, eliminating the need for an autopsy.  Dad always saw Doc Bernard here in Manchester so I wanted to see what I could learn about this Richards fellow.”

“So we’re heading to Boston then?”  

“You really don’t have to spend the day with me.  I’m a big girl.”  Angela pulled her knees up and rested her chin on them, keeping her eyes on the deep blue water.  

“Orders aside, it would be my sincere pleasure,” he replied, kneeling in front of her, lifting her chin, and forcing her to meet his gaze, his sincerity evident.  “I don’t usually get to spend time with beautiful women in my line of work.  I plan to enjoy every second of the day.”  He stood carefully, brushed himself off and extended a hand to her.  She stared into his warm green eyes before placing her small hand in his much larger one.  When he gave it a gentle squeeze, she felt as if he had loaned her some of his unmistakable strength.

An hour and a half after leaving Manchester, Chase and Angela parked in one of the Boston Medical Center lots.  Hands linked, they walked into the Boston Medical Examiner’s office.  Chase smiled at the perky, blonde receptionist and leaned one well-developed forearm on the counter.  “We’d like to talk with the medical examiner.”  His voice sounded like a warm caress on a dark, cool night.

“Do you have an appointment, Mr.?” The blonde bent forward, her ample cleavage spilling from the deep v of her blouse with a lascivious smile.

“Unfortunately not, but I’d
really appreciate
it if we could see the medical examiner who handled Nicholas McKenzie’s death.”  Keeping his eyes on the woman, he widened his smile and winked.

With a playful twitter, the woman moved to her computer keyboard, her eyes still locked on the gorgeous specimen in front of her.

“M- A- C?” the woman started when Angela interrupted. 

“McKenzie – M-C-K-E-N-Z-I-E,” she stated forcefully, feeling unaccountably jealous. 

“Umm, Josh Davies handled that case.”  She cast a fleeting look at Angela.  “If you and your sister can wait a minutes, I’ll see if he’s available.”

Sister?
 
Sister?
 Angela fumed silently when Chase squeezed her hip, signaling her to remain quiet. 

“Thank you.”  His deep voice turned husky.  The blonde bimbo, as Angela dubbed her, devoured Chase with her eyes, finishing her perusal with a wanton leer.

“I’m sure you can find a way to pay me back.  I get off at five.  Perhaps we could meet for a drink?” She brazenly stroked his forearm with her fingertips.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he tempted, his eyes twinkling.  “Get us in to see Davies, and I’ll buy you that drink.”
 
 

As she turned away to dial Davies’ office, Chase winked at Angela, pulling her closer to whisper in her ear.  “She means nothing to me, Sis.”

Angela shot him a dirty look before murmuring, “Sis?  I hate to break it to you, but we look nothing alike.”

“And my feelings are far from brotherly,” he breathed in her ear, the warm air causing her blood to pump and her heart to race. 

“It’s your lucky day,” the blonde cooed, interrupting Angela and Chase’s banter.  “Josh said he’s on his way to lunch, but he can talk to you if you walk along with him.  Technically, you’re supposed to talk to the family liaison if you have questions, but Josh has a teeny little crush on me so he’s willing to bend the rules just this once.” 

Moments later, a small wiry man with a prominent nose rushed to the counter.  “Are these the people, Brenda?  I only have fifteen minutes before I have to be back.”

The receptionist nodded.  “This is…” she trailed off realizing that Chase had never introduced himself. 

“We need to talk to you about Nicholas McKenzie,” Chase stated quietly.

With a perfunctory nod, Davies gestured toward the door.

“I’ll see you at five?” Brenda called after them. 

“McKenzie? 
Heart attack on the street, right?”
  Davies asked, walking toward a deli on the next block.

Angela nodded, keeping pace with Davies while Chase walked behind her.  “Why didn’t you do an autopsy?  I requested one.”

“He was your father?”  The medical examiner held the door and gestured for Angela to enter the small storefront.  “We don’t do autopsies on request.  If we did, we’d be so backed up we’d never clear the morgue.  It’s the medical examiner’s job to determine if the circumstances surrounding the death were so unusual that an autopsy is merited.  I remember your father’s case though.  I recommended an autopsy, but my boss said it wasn’t necessary.  Apparently, your father’s doctor contacted him and concurred that cause of death was a heart attack.” 

In between sentences, Davies ordered pastrami on rye to go with a soda and paid.  While waiting for his sandwich, he checked his watch and looked around the small shop.  “Look, it’s none of my business, but the whole thing struck me as odd.  I mean, how did your dad’s doctor know he’d died so quickly?  It’s really unusual for a doc to call us and offer a cause of death.  Typically, it’s the other way around.  When we notify family members of a death, we ask for the deceased’s doctor.  Then we contact the appropriate medical professional to ascertain whether they have an opinion regarding cause of death.  It’s extremely unusual for a doctor to seek us out and offer an opinion, especially before the next of kin is notified.  You didn’t hear about his death until we called you, right?” 

Angela nodded.  “My only notice came from your office early Wednesday morning.”

“Yet Dr. Richards called my boss Tuesday afternoon.  I’d scheduled the autopsy for Wednesday and my boss ordered me to cancel it during our morning meeting. Like I said, it was weird.  Anyway,” he continued speaking at the speed of light.  “I have to head back to the office.  You weren’t serious about taking Brenda out for a drink, were you?” he asked Chase, a small frown appearing on his round, flushed face.  “I’ve been trying to get her to go out with me for over a year,
and  I
really can’t afford competition like you.” 

“Here,” Chase handed him a twenty dollar bill.  “I promised her a drink.  Take her out and tell her the drinks are on me.  Thanks for the information.”

“Thank you,” Angela added, pondering what Davies had revealed. 

With a nod, Davies scurried from the restaurant, joining the throngs of other business people hurrying back to work. 

“Angela?” Chase placed a hand on her back before pulling her to rest against him, her back against his front.  She leaned into him, relishing the comfort he offered. 

“I’d like to try to talk to Dr. Richards.”  She turned in his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest.  He tightened his embrace for an instant before stepping back and guiding her to the door. 

“Have you spoken to anyone at his office yet?”  Chase kept her firmly against his left side as they stepped onto the busy sidewalk. 

“No.  I thought it would be better to just show up and surprise him.” 

“Okay.”  Chase steered her back toward the parking garage.  “Where’s his office?”

“Here at Boston Medical Center,” she sighed softly.  “At least we don’t have to go far.”  After pausing for second, she added, “Thanks for helping me, Chase.  Somehow I doubt you signed up for hand holding duty.” 

“It’s no problem, Angel. I don’t mind helping.  It’s more fun to be with you than follow you anyway.”

“How long have you been following me?”  She wrinkled her nose. 
So much for being aware of my surroundings.
 

“I was at the funeral,” he admitted, and she frowned.

“Really?
  Well, I was a wreck, so I can’t blame myself for not noticing you there but, geez, you’ve been trailing me for days and I didn’t know?  That’s kind of creepy.”

“I’m not the only one who’s been following you, Angela.”  Chase tugged her closer as a pedestrian pushed by them.