Glorious Angel (33 page)

“Where is Angela?”

“That’s what is so beautiful about all this, Brad,” Courtney grinned. “You see, she’s not here. And I have no idea where she is. I fully expected her to be here, but when I arrived, the place was deserted. There was no sign of clothes or anything else that might have belonged to the lady. Fortunately for me, you didn’t know that. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come.”

“You bastard!”

“Yes, I am that,” Courtney chuckled. “I’m a sonofabitch too. But I will live out my days knowing that you will not. Now I must end this conversation, however much I have enjoyed talking to you. We really must get on with this before the storm breaks and puts out the fire.”

Bradford’s blood chilled. “Fire?”

Now Courtney’s eyes lit up grotesquely. “Didn’t I tell you? That’s how you’re going to die.”

Logan got the lamp from the kitchen and handed it to Courtney and they crossed to the door. Courtney looked slowly around the room, then rested his exultant gaze on Bradford once again.

“It was a nice place you had here—once,” he said before he threw the lamp down in the middle of the floor. “I’ll surely see you in hell someday, Bradford Maitland,” he cried.

The fire spread rapidly across the floor. In just
seconds the closed door was aflame, then the curtains. In minutes the whole house would be a blazing inferno. Bradford watched, stunned, as the flames danced closer and closer.

Forty-eight

Angela returned to her hotel room after an early dinner. The room was quite luxurious, but that wasn’t surprising. In many ways, Dallas was a sophisticated city.

A large brass bed dominated the room. There was also a quaint gold velvet love seat with matching chair beside it, and a walnut writing desk. A fire was burning in the marble fireplace, taking away the chill that accompanied the brooding weather. Portraits of eighteenth-century royalty covered most of the green-and-gold wallpaper.

Angela sat down at the desk and gathered pen and paper. She only just started a letter to Jim McLaughlin when there was a knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

Hearing no answer, she got up and walked to the door. She opened it and saw a slim young man standing there grinning and she paled.

“Hello, Angela.”

“Billy Anderson.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Aren’t you gonna invite me in?” Billy asked pleasantly.

Angela shook off her shock. “Certainly not! What is it you want, Billy?”

“To talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about.”

She started to close the door, but he shoved it open violently, sending her into the middle of the room. Suddenly the door was closed and Billy was leaning back against it.

“How dare you?” she stormed. “Get out of here, Billy, before I call the manager!”

“I don’t think you’ll call anyone, Angela,” he replied as he pulled a gun from the inside of his fawn-colored coat.

Sudden fear crept through her. She stared at the gun, much like her own little derringer, and wished to God hers were on her instead of packed in her luggage. She looked at her luggage, on the bed where she had left it, but couldn’t see much hope there. Both cases were closed.

Billy grinned wickedly. “I told you the day would come, didn’t I, Angela? It took a long time, but the rewards will be worth the wait.”

Angela tried to ignore the icy fear that clutched her. “What do you want, Billy?”

“I haven’t quite decided yet. For a long time
now, I just wanted to kill you. Does that surprise you?”

Angela was stunned. This couldn’t be happening.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me why I wanted to kill you?” She could only nod slowly. “I’ve always wanted you, Angela, but even when you were nothin’ but poor white trash I wasn’t good enough for you. When I began to get somewhere, you still wouldn’t have me. You’ve obsessed my mind, Angela. But now that I’ve seen you again, I think I’ll let you live after all. There are ways to make you mine, and mine alone.”

She finally found her voice, though it came out as a cracked whisper. “You—you can’t be serious.”

“Of course, you will have to become my wife,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “But that will only be a title, for the sake of appearance. No, you’re gonna suffer for the years you have made me suffer. You will be my slave, but only you and I will know it. Oh, I have such wonderful plans for you, Angela.”

She stared at him with wide violet-blue eyes. He was crazy, truly crazy!

“What you want is impossible,” she said, as evenly as she could. “I would never consent to marry you.”

“Really?” Billy asked with a raised brow and a grin on his lips.

He sauntered forward, waving his gun danger
ously in the air. When he reached her, he stuck the gun between her breasts, and with his other hand, took a handful of her hair and pulled her painfully against him. Still holding her by the hair, he jerked her head back and brought his lips down over hers. She gagged at the smell of sour whiskey and tobacco on his breath, and tried to push away.

He released her hair and grabbed her arm with the hand that held the gun, pulling her arm cruelly behind her back. She was unable to move without pain tearing through her shoulder.

With his free hand he grabbed her breast, his fingers digging into her excruciatingly. She cried out.

Billy laughed.

“This will be even more enjoyable than I thought,” he rasped. “I’ll have you grovelin’ at my feet before I’m finished with you.”

He released her and she stumbled back. She grasped her throbbing arm, feeling tears of pain beginning to surface. But she fought them. She would be damned before she would let Billy Anderson see her cry.

She watched him warily as he moved around the room, taking in the surroundings. “You live pretty high on the hog, don’t you? I guess I can get used to that. And I see you were plannin’ a trip.”

“Yes, I was.”

“Looks like I got to you just in time, then,” he
remarked and moved back to her. “But even if you had gone, I would have found you again, just like I did this time.”

“How did you find me?” she asked, stalling for time.

He laughed. “I knew about the inheritance Maitland left you, and followed that lawyer here. I’ve been waitin’ here all this time, just for the right moment. And when I saw you come into town today and check in here, I knew the time had come. Now get that luggage off the bed,” he commanded, picking up a lock of her hair. “We’ll be usin’ it now.”

Angela suddenly saw her chance. “I have to unpack something first,” she said quickly.

“There will be time for that later,” he replied. “Just move it for now.”

Her body went rigid when she saw her only hope vanish. “Move it yourself!” she snapped. “I will not—”

He backhanded her, sending her tumbling to the floor. Then he yanked her to her feet and pushed her toward the bed. “You’d better learn now that you’ll do what I say, Angela. I’m not opposed to dealin’ out punishment if you don’t. In fact, I’d enjoy that as much as takin’ you to bed.”

Angela had no doubt that he would take pleasure in beating her to death. She considered screaming for help, but cast that idea aside, sure that he would shoot her. She could think of no
way to save herself, at least not yet. But if she could just get that gun away from him…

She lugged the heavy trunks off the bed and waited for his next move. A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance and, at that moment, there was a knock.

Angela ran for the door. But she was jerked to a halt before she got halfway there, and Billy’s arms circled around her, squeezing the breath from her.

“Whoever it is, get rid of them!” Billy whispered urgently, the short barrel of his gun touching her jaw. “Do you understand me?”

She nodded slowly.

“Who is it?” she called out tremulously.

The only answer was another knock, much louder this time. Then the handle of the door was tried, but Billy had locked it.

“What do you want?” she called.

“I’m not about to talk through the door, Angela,” was the reply.

“It’s Bradford!” she gasped.

Billy swung her around to face him. “That’s impossible! I saw him leave for Kansas myself!”

“You saw him?”

“Yes. I wanted to be sure he was gone so I went out on the range and watched him leave. He has no business bein’ back here so soon!”

“Angela, will you open this door, or shall I break it down?” Bradford called.

“Get rid of him—or I will!” Billy said meaningfully.

Angela understood well enough. She had to make Bradford leave, but how?

“I’ll get rid of him, but let me handle it, Billy,” she said firmly.

When Billy released his hold on her, she smoothed her hair back and crossed to the door slowly. Opening the door just wide enough to peek through, she took a deep breath and looked up. The sight of him turned her face ashen.

“What happened to you?” she gasped, completely forgetting Billy. Bradford was covered in black soot from head to foot.

“What took you so long to answer the door?” he asked gruffly.

“I’m busy, Bradford,” she replied, Billy’s presence frightening her once again.

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” she answered abruptly, hoping he would be angry enough to leave.

“Everything you do is my business.”

“Not anymore,” she returned sharply. “Please leave.”

Without replying, he suddenly pushed his way into the room and confronted Billy.

Billy instantly sensed the fury of the larger man and backed away, his gun hidden in his hand.

Angela cleared her throat nervously. “I told you I was busy, Bradford.”

“Who is this?” Bradford asked furiously, turning the smoldering golden gaze on her.

“A friend of mine,” she replied, growing more desperate by the moment. She had to get Bradford to leave. “Just like Grant was a friend.
Now
will you go away?”

Bradford turned on his heel and stormed from the room, slamming the door. She sighed in relief. At least Bradford was safe now.

“You handled that very nicely.” Billy grinned, relaxing. “Who was Grant? One of your lovers?”

“You wanted me to get rid of him!” Angela hissed. “Well, what does it matter how I did it? He’s gone, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Billy replied with a savage grin. “And now for the rewards I’ve waited so long for.”

Bradford stood at the top of the stairs, staring ahead without seeing. What she had said couldn’t be true, not after what Grant had told him. Which of them would he believe? Would he—could he—trust Angela after all they’d been through?

Angela unfastened her skirt and let it fall to her feet, her eyes glued to the small gun pointed at her.

“You’re learnin’ to follow orders very well, Angela,” Billy said, a cruel gleam in his eyes. “Now spread yourself out on the bed like a good little whore. And just remember, if you cry out, I’ll make you wish you were dead before I—”

At that moment the door burst open.

Angela screamed. “Bradford, he has a gun!” But before she could finish the sentence, Billy fired at Bradford.

Angela stared in horror, expecting to watch Bradford fall. But he kept charging forward, like a bull. Billy was terrified. His one bullet was gone. He tried to dodge Bradford’s reach, but he was too late.

The men fell to the floor together. Angela turned her back on the scene, sickened by the sounds of bones crunching. She grabbed the cover from the bed and wrapped it around her, then faced the men again. Billy was no longer struggling. He had fallen unconscious. But that did not stop Bradford from hammering away at him.

“Bradford, that’s
enough
! He can’t feel it anymore.”

Bradford did not answer. He continued to deliver blow after blow to the body under him.

“You’re killing him!” Angela screamed.

Bradford stopped suddenly and looked at her. Without a word he took hold of the back of Billy’s coat and dragged him out of the room and down the hall. She heard Billy’s body falling down the stairs. If the beating hadn’t killed Billy, the fall easily could.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” she whispered when Bradford returned.

“No, but it will be a long time before he’ll be able to move again,” Bradford replied. “And then I will see to it that he is shipped across the continent.”

“How did you know I needed you?” Suddenly she felt overwhelmingly shy. She held the bedspread around herself tightly.

“You told me,” he answered gently, keeping his distance from her. “It was something you said.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It can wait. You need some rest, and so do I. We will talk tomorrow.”

She watched him go, perplexed. Did he pity her now? Well, pity was the last thing she wanted from Bradford Maitland. She would leave tomorrow, as she had planned.

“Amigo
, is that your mess at the bottom of the stairs?”

Bradford turned from his doorway to see Hank coming down the hall.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Hank grinned. “This is a free country, is it not? Or do you own Dallas?”

“You were supposed to be on your way to Mexico,” Bradford reminded him stiffly.