Read Graham, Jan - Finding Angel [Wylde Shore] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Online
Authors: Jan Graham
Angel remembered the knock on the door that woke her. One of Samuel’s customers greeted her, only to become annoyed when he discovered Samuel wasn’t home. Angel sent him away, telling him to ring Samuel if he needed to see him. She had never sold drugs, and she hadn’t been intending to start that day either. Walking into the kitchen, Angel heard the faint ring of Samuel’s phone. She knew he wouldn’t have left it behind. It was like a third arm for him, and he was never without it. She’d walked toward the back of the house, reaching for the back door as the phone stopped ringing.
It was then she noticed the garage door was ajar. They didn’t use the garage, not even for the car. It was a single, old building away from the house, built during a time when cars were smaller and detached garages popular because people didn’t mind walking out into the yard to get what they needed. Nowadays, everything had to be instant, on hand. Angel recalled the crunch of the gravel drive under her feet as she’d opened the rickety wooden door.
The air was cool around her as Angel stared at Samuel’s Harley Davidson belt buckle. She lowered her eyes, scanning down his body to his feet. He wasn’t wearing shoes. His feet looked pale, she thought, as her eyes scanned back up his body to his chest. His shoulders were relaxed, his hands by his sides. She smiled at him when her eyes reached his face. His head was slanted to the side, and the noose around his neck was secured firmly to the middle rafter of the roof.
Angel drifted back to the present. As the water from the shower tumbled over her body, Angel smiled. She could not have dreamed of a better end for that shitty excuse for a man.
Chapter Two
Adrian had been true to his word, or so it appeared. The courier had arrived exactly one hour after their phone call, and Angel hoped, with the handing over of the items she had found, that would be the final contact she would have with Adrian or any of his cronies. Angel never trusted Adrian. In fact, she found it hard to trust any man. Life had taught her that she needed to rely on herself rather than put her faith in anyone, especially if that anyone was a guy. Every man Angel had ever known influenced her distrust, from her father and two brothers during childhood to the string of men who filled her adult life.
Angel was sure nice men existed. The world wasn’t full of men like Samuel, Adrian, or her father. If it was, then most women would have miserable lives, unless of course they were lesbians. She once had friends who said their partners were loving and attentive, the perfect gentleman. Angel believed they were telling her the truth. After all, they had no reason to lie. For some reason though, Angel didn’t attract nice men. She actually believed that it was a fault in her genetic makeup that attracted the bad boy type. Her mum had married Angel’s unbearable father. Her grandmother had left an abusive husband when her mother was only ten, and Angel’s choice in men went without saying. Angel interpreted this family history as evidence of a genetic flaw. Now that Samuel was out of her life, Angel was determined to never make a bad choice in any future relationships she may have, even if it meant not having a relationship at all.
It had been twelve weeks since Samuel’s death. She had endured the police questioning, the ineffectual searching of the house by not only the police but also Adrian’s goons. The lack of discovery on behalf of Adrian’s men didn’t surprise her. Why send men with drug-addled brains that couldn’t see past their own self-interest to search for anything of importance? The police had been a different matter. Or they should have been, considering Samuel’s criminal history. At the time, Angel thought how inadequate the police search of the home had been. Markham, the detective running the search, had appeared disinterested in the task. He had conducted a superficial search of rooms at best, appearing that it may actually cause him too much trouble to find anything of interest.
The resulting inquest into Samuel’s death returned a verdict of suicide due to no evidence of any criminal activity at the scene. Obviously the coroner just assumed the mess in the house was because Angel liked living like a pig, rather than someone actually trashing the place. When Samuel was finally able to be buried, Angel had used the last of her savings to pay for it. She didn’t expect any help from Adrian. After all, that would confirm his connection to Samuel as more than an acquaintance. It had, however, been a surprise when he turned up to the funeral.
Initially Angel thought he was there to pay his respects and say good-bye to the man he had known for more than half his life. It turned out that Adrian wanted something. Taking her aside after the funeral service, Adrian explained that Samuel had information that could be “potentially damaging” to him, and he needed the information back. He mentioned the history on Samuel’s hard drive indicated a copy of the missing information had been made a month before Samuel had passed. Adrian told Angel he needed the hard copy of that information. Angel had a week to find it, or Adrian would come and do it himself. He had given her his private mobile number, explained the procedure for making contact and also that police should not be shown anything Angel happened to find.
Like, der….
Angel remembered thinking to herself at the time. He treated her like an idiot. He didn’t seem to realize that Angel valued her life more than to go to the police with anything. Although, she did have to somehow drop a duffle bag full of weapons off to them without getting asked too many questions. Angel stared at the money she had collected while cleaning up the bedroom. She had found nearly five thousand dollars in assorted parts of the room, and unlike the thirty thousand, she believed that this money had to be Samuel’s personal cash. Angel justified keeping it by telling herself the amount she had found barely covered the funeral costs. It would be enough to buy herself a car, albeit a cheap one, and still have money to live on until the cheque arrived for the latest article she had sold.
She would still continue to fight with the insurance company in regard to her own car. They were sticking to the view that it hadn’t been stolen. The insurance company had taken great pains to explain to Angel that she had not insured the car against her partner taking it and losing it. The fact that he was now dead and couldn’t tell anyone where the car was didn’t seem to bother them at all. So her car was not stolen. It was merely missing. She got a similar response from the police, who also refused to believe the car had been stolen.
Angel decided to see if she could increase her funds by selling the watch and jewellery Samuel had left on his dresser. She still had enough time to get a train into the city before some of the pawn joints closed, especially one in particular that she hoped would help her out. She decided to buy herself dinner as well. It had been over three years since Angel had been into the city. She used to love wandering around and watching all the different people who congregated in there. Night time was especially exotic in the red-light district, which had been her favourite part of town. She knew a lot of the shop owners and often ran into friends from the BDSM scene due to the number of fetish clubs and shops tucked away in some of the district’s dark laneways.
Angel looked into her wardrobe. She had no idea what evening clothes still fitted her. She had lost weight during her time with Samuel. Even though she was still curvy, she was smaller than the last time she had gone to the city. Angel picked out a black dress that had always been a little tight on her and put it on. It was now a perfect fit. The dress had thin shoulder straps made of delicate, silver chains that crossed over each other at the back. The bodice was fitted and just low enough to show her ample cleavage. The dress rested loosely on her hips, and the skirt flared out with the hemline sitting just below midthigh. Angel added a black belt with silver studs and a red tulle petticoat that peeked out about an inch below the hem of the dress. She managed to find a pair of sheer stockings which didn’t have a hole in them, and she wore her platform, knee-high boots just for added fun.
Cute
. Angel was happy with the reflection she saw in the mirror.
Conscious of the time, Angel ran her fingers through her long curls, grabbed her bag and the jewellery from the table, and headed to the train station. Angel intended to have some fun, and if she was lucky, she may even manage to reacquaint herself with some old friends or make some new ones. Arriving in the city about half past six, she made her way from the station, along the familiar and unchanged back streets until she reached the main drag of the “naughty district,” as she liked to call it. Not much had changed from what she could see. The main clubs and strip joints were still in play, although it was too early for any of them to appear tempting to enter. She made her way up the street to the shopping area, passing both new and familiar eateries along the way. Wandering through the eclectic range of fashion and sex shops, Angel bumped into a few people she had known from three years ago. The general consensus appeared to be an acceptance that she had moved interstate and just not said good-bye. Angel found their assumptions strange, but it was easier to agree that was what had happened, rather than having to explain the truth.
As she walked down the side street leading to Bundy’s Pawn Brokers, Angel walked straight into Jig. He flung his arms around her so hard she thought for a second that she might snap in half. Jig had been the life of her party days because he was funny and always made her laugh. But, more than that, he tried his best to look out for her. Jig was a tall, youthful-looking man, and like Angel, he was in his thirties, although Angel wasn’t sure whether he was in the mid or late portion of the decade. He still had the spiked, black hair she remembered, but he now had it tipped purple. He was dressed totally in black and still maintained the striking physique he always had. Angel always said she would be more than happy to sleep with him, if females had been his preference. Unfortunately for her, men were Jig’s thing. He was the epitome of the saying that all the good men were either married or gay.
Jig was on his way to work, so Angel agreed to come and eat at the local café he managed. Nuts was a semivegetarian café that served the most amazing food, and it wasn’t far from The Dungeon, a club that Angel used to hang out at. If she decided to drop into the club for old time’s sake, then she would be nice and close to do so. Jig promised he would reserve a table for her and she could arrive whenever she was finished shopping. After a quick hug and kiss good-bye, Angel continued down to the pawn shop she hoped would take the jewellery off her hands.
Bundy’s was owned by an eccentric, old transvestite. Chocolate, as the owner like to be called, had once been one of the main attractions at the street’s les girls club. Now he owned the fanciest pawn shop Angel had ever seen. Chocolate was tall and wearing heels that made him tower over most people. He was slender and liked to dress in the glamour style of the fifties era movies with Jayne Mansfield and Elizabeth Taylor being his two favourite movie goddesses to emulate.
“Oh, my Lord.” Chocolate’s shrill voice echoed through the store as Angel walked through the door. “It’s a ghost. No wait it’s my little Angel.”
“Hi, Chocolate.” Angel felt herself blush as everyone in the store turned to look at her.
Chocolate gushed over Angel, planting kisses on each cheek before spinning her around a smacking her firmly on the arse.
“Ouch.” Angel rubbed the sting on her behind.
“Where the hell have you been, you bad girl?” Chocolate’s chastising was not making people stare any less. “I have been so worried. I asked everyone what had happened to you. All anyone knew was that you had gone away. No forwarding address, no phone number, no good-bye.”
Angel felt two more slaps on her arse before Chocolate dragged her across the store to the main counter.
“I just moved interstate for work. It was all a bit of a rush. I’m so sorry for not letting you know. It really has been hectic these last three years,” Angel lied.
Chocolate was simply lovely and would do anything for a friend, but he was probably the most indiscreet person Angel had ever met. A person did not share their deepest and darkest with Chocolate, not unless they were prepared for it to be public knowledge.
“Am I forgiven?” Angel batted her eyelashes and smiled.
“Of course you are. I’m just glad you’re back. Now are you here to buy, sell, or simply to bask in my glorious presence?” Chocolate asked.
“Sell.” Angel took the items from her bag and placed them on the counter. “Just a few things, they are only sterling silver I think. Anything you can give me for them is fine.”
Chocolate examined the items carefully while making all sorts of umming noises.
“Very nice men’s pieces. I assume they are from an ex.” Chocolate began fishing. “Did he break your heart? Is it a revenge sale?”