Dying to Kill (Angel Delaney Mysteries Book #2) (6 page)

“Positive.”

Pressing her hands to her knees, Angel straightened. She glanced from one child to the other. “Do they know?”

Candace nodded.

“I’m so sorry about your dad,” Angel said to them.

“Don’t be sad.” The little girl slipped her hand into Angel’s. “Daddy’s in heaven with Jesus. Want to see our baby goat?”

“It’s a kid,” the boy corrected.

“Sure.” Angel allowed the little girl to pull her into the depths of the old barn. They led her back to the stable where the boy had been when she’d first come in. He climbed on the wooden door and pointed into the corner of the stall.

“He’s adorable.” Angel watched the kid take several wobbly steps. “When was he born?”

“It’s a she,” the boy said. “Night before last.”

“We named her Midnight,” the girl said, “’cause she’s so black and that’s the time she was borned.”

“That’s a nice name. What are your names?”

“Dorfy,” the little girl answered. “My brother’s name is Brian.”

“She means Dorothy, after the girl in
The Wizard of Oz
. That’s our mom’s favorite movie. She’s got a tooth missing, so she can’t talk very good.”

“Hmm.” Angel felt a wave of sadness wash over her.
Kids shouldn’t have to suffer like this. Please, God, let their mother be innocent. They shouldn’t have to lose both parents.

Dorothy clasped Angel’s hand even tighter than before. “Are you taking us to your house?”

“To my parents, yes.”

She frowned. “We can’t go until Sissy comes home. She won’t know where we are.”

Brian jumped backward off the gate. “You don’t need to worry. Mom will pick her up.”

Candace glanced at her watch. “Brian’s right. We need to go. Gracie will be waiting.” She nodded toward the officers. “They told me to stay here, but . . .”

“Let me check with Officer Caldwell. Maybe they’ll let you go with me now and question you later.” She’d also need to borrow a vehicle, as hers was a two-seater. Maybe Nick would let her use his.

Candace sighed. “I don’t know how I’m going to manage without Phillip.”

“You will.” Angel told her the crime lab would be going over the van and that she’d have to drive them. “Wait here while I make arrangements.”

“How will I get my van back?” Candace glanced worriedly at the groceries still sitting in the back. “Who will take care of the groceries? I put away the perishables, but . . .”

“I’ll bring you out here tomorrow, or whenever the police are finished.”
If you’re not in jail.

“But our clothes. I don’t have anything for the children to wear tomorrow for school.”

School? Your husband has just died and you’re worried about what the kids are going to wear to school?
Angel kept her thoughts to herself. Candace apparently was still in shock. “They won’t let us in the house right now, but I’ll come back out later and pick up a few things.”

Candace hesitated, a deep frown etched into her face. She clearly didn’t want to give her home over to strangers. Finally she nodded and stood in the driveway, an arm around each of the children, while Angel went back to the house. She found Nick still inside talking to the lab techs.

“Hey, Nick, Mrs. Jenkins needs to pick up her daughter from school. How would you feel about my taking her and the kids into town? They’re going to need to eat, and I think it might be best if we get them out of here.”

“I need to question them.” Nick walked over to her. “Besides, you can’t take them in the Vette.”

“I know, I’ll need to borrow yours.”

“No way. I can’t let you do that. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re technically a civilian. If something happened to the car, it would be my neck.”

“Come on, Nick. We can’t let them stay out here. You’re not going to be done for hours yet. I’ll take them into town and bring the car back.”

“I don’t know.”

“They’ll be at my parents’ place,” she assured him. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on them.”

He rubbed at the lines of indecision on his forehead and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “Okay, but make sure she doesn’t go anywhere else. And give me your keys in case I have to leave . . . and put the out-of-service sign on the car door.”

From the look on his face when she handed him her car keys, she suspected he didn’t mind exchanging vehicles as much as he wanted her to believe.

Angel led them to Nick’s car and opened the doors. The children scrambled into the back, with Brian going on about how neat it was to ride in a police car. “Wow. This is so cool. Can you put the siren on?”

“Maybe later,” Angel told him. She opened the trunk and retrieved the magnetic sign, placing it squarely on the driver’s side door.

To Brian and Dorothy’s delight, she turned on the siren once they reached the main road, letting it run for a full minute before suppressing it again. Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of Sunset Cove High School.

Gracie was waiting on a bench in front of the school, arms folded and mouth set in a grim line. She eyed Angel suspiciously and frowned when her mother stepped out of the car. Something told Angel that Gracie didn’t share her brother’s enthusiasm for riding in an official vehicle. Candace took three steps toward Gracie and stopped.

“You’re half an hour late.” Gracie stood and picked up her book bag.

“I’m sorry.” Candace just stood there, arms stiff at her sides.

“What’s wrong?” Gracie demanded. “Where’s the van? Who is she? Why are you riding in a . . . a police car?” Gracie was a tall, slender girl with her mother’s silky blonde hair and blue eyes. She glanced around, a panicky look in her eyes. Angel half expected her to bolt.

“I . . . honey, it’s your father. He’s . . .”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“He’s dead.”

Gracie’s eyes narrowed as she assessed her mother. The girl said nothing, but Angel noticed the strange, almost conspiratorial, look that passed between them.

Candace wrapped an arm around Gracie’s shoulder. “Come on.” She introduced Angel before opening the back door to let Gracie climb into the backseat with her siblings.

Minutes later they pulled into the driveway of the Delaney home. The single-story rambler had a warm brick exterior and was surrounded by lush plants, with rhododendrons four to six feet in height, all in bloom.

“Oh, the rhodies are gorgeous,” Candace commented as they exited the car.

“My mother’s pride and joy.” Angel ushered Candace and the children inside and stood aside while her mother hugged them all, murmuring words of comfort and assuring Candace that she and the children were more than welcome to stay as long as they needed to.

Before showing them to their rooms, Anna took Angel aside.
“Don’t look so worried. You’ve done the right thing bringing them here. Now run to the market and get some romaine and tomatoes so we can have salad with your soup.”

“Should I get the seafood too?”

Anna pursed her lips. “Better not. The children may not like it. I’ll just toss in some sautéed chicken.”

On the way to the market, Angel thought again about Candace cleaning up the crime scene. She thought too about the look that had passed between Gracie and her mother at the school. Did Gracie know something? Did she suspect her mother?

Concern shivered through her.
What have you done, Angel?
At the time, bringing Candace and her children home to her parents had seemed the logical solution. Now she wasn’t so sure.

EIGHT

A
ngel picked up the groceries, adding strawberries, angel food cake, and whipping cream to her list, along with some snacks for the kids, then went back to the house. She still
hadn’t heard from Callen and decided that if he didn’t call by
9:00, she’d call him.

Anna met her at the door, taking one of the bags and heading into the kitchen. Angel hurried behind her, noting that the children were lounging on the sofa, Gracie writing in a notebook, Brian and Dorothy reading. “You guys look studious.”

“We are.” Dorothy gave her a toothless grin. “We’re doing our homework. We hafta, or we can’t watch TV after dinner.”

Gracie glanced up and rolled her eyes. “Right, like you really have to study.”

“I do. Mom says.”

Gracie moved her head from side to side and continued writing. They seemed oddly unaffected by their father’s death. Candace apparently believed in maintaining normalcy at all cost.

Angel ducked into the kitchen and set the groceries on the counter. Candace stood at the sink, folding a dishcloth. The table had already been set.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” Angel said.

“Everything’s ready except the salad,” Anna told her. “I’ll let you put that together while I check on your father.”

“Is he eating with us?”

“I’m working on it.”

Minutes later, Candace, the children, and Anna gathered around the table. Anna asked that they hold hands for grace. Her brief prayer offered thanks for the food and blessings for family and friends. She omitted any mention of Phillip Jenkins’s death, most likely for the children’s sake. She concluded with an amen, and they all raised their heads. All, that is, except Dorothy.

With her eyes tightly shut, she added a petition of her own. “And bless my daddy and Jesus in heaven. Amen.”

“Thank you, Dorothy.” Candace, eyes filled with tears, ran a hand over her small daughter’s hair and kissed her cheek.

“Who sits there?” Brian pointed to Angel’s father’s place at the head of the table.

“My husband, Frank,” Anna answered. “He’s not feeling well.”

The place had been set as it usually was but remained conspicuously empty. Eating was a chore for Frank. He had to wear a bib to catch the drool that flowed out of his drooping mouth and down his chin.

“When are the police going to talk to me?” Candace asked, bringing Angel out of her reverie.

“I’m not sure. Tonight, maybe tomorrow.”

“You said you would go back out to the farm and get what we’ll need to stay overnight. I probably should go with you, but I hate to leave the kids.” Candace still wore a confused expression. Tears gathered in her eyes, and she dabbed them away with a tissue. She stirred her soup and took a tentative sip.

“You don’t need to come with me. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll go as soon as we’ve finished eating.”

Candace nodded and turned toward Anna. “It’s so good of you to have us.”

“I’m happy for the company.”

Shifting her gaze to Angel, Candace said, “I don’t know what I would have done without you today. Thanks again for coming.”

Angel wasn’t sure how to respond, so she didn’t. She examined the spoon as she dipped it into the soup, filling it with vegetables and a piece of chicken, and lifted it to her mouth. The soup was as good as it looked. Too bad Callen wasn’t there to enjoy it with them.

Candace sighed. “I suppose I have to make arrangements for the funeral. I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

“We can call Tim after dinner if you like,” Anna offered. “He’s the pastor of St. Matthews. Unless you have a church.”

“Tim? Oh, you mean Pastor Delaney. He’s related to you?”

“My son.”

“I hadn’t made the connection. We only went once. Phillip said we should start going to church again.” She glanced around the table. “I liked him. I think Phillip did too. Yes, if he wouldn’t mind.”

“He’ll be more than happy to help with the arrangements.” Anna picked up the basket of homemade rolls she’d made and passed them around.

Gracie, who’d been brooding since they sat down, took a roll and buttered it. She gave Candace a hard, cold stare. “Why are you acting so sad? I’m glad he’s dead, and so are you.”

Candace stiffened and sucked in a sharp breath. “Gracie, you mustn’t talk like that. Your father loved us.”

Gracie sneered. “Yeah, right. He hurt you. He deserved to die.”

Turning her apologetic gaze to Anna then to Angel, Candace said, “I’m sorry. She isn’t usually like this.”

“Like what?” Gracie threw down her napkin. “Honest? You’re right about that. It’s hard to be honest around a person who slaps you when you try to express an opinion that happens to be different from his.”

“It was the alcohol. We’ve talked about that.” Candace clenched her fist around the cloth napkin in her lap. Tears gathered in her eyes again. “He promised he’d quit. He was trying. He was a good man, but the alcohol made him lose control sometimes.”

Gracie threw her roll on the plate and pushed her chair away from the table. “If he loved us, he would have stopped, Mama.
He would have.” Turning to Anna she said, “May I be excused, please?”

“Of course,” Anna told her.

Gracie headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Candace called after her.

“Out.” Gracie grabbed her coat from the entry closet and yanked open the door.

“I’d better go after her.” Candace apologized again and followed Gracie outside.

“Whew.” Angel set her napkin beside her plate. “That was interesting.”

“Gracie is a brat.” Brian pierced several romaine leaves with his fork and stuffed them into his mouth.