When she finally released him, sweat poured off her body and stung her eyes. He rolled onto his back and grasped at his throat, sucking air like a drowning man. With her chest heaving, Angel rolled to her knees and stood on wobbly legs. Every muscle in her body ached. After she spotted the gun that Bryce had dropped, she picked it up and held it steady in a two-fisted grip, aimed at Bryce's head. He panted hard and scowled at her. With his lip bleeding, he struggled to get up.

"Stay down. Roll over on your belly. Now!" She gasped for air. "Hands where I can see *em."

After he rolled over and showed his hands, she said, "Lace your fingers behind your head. Do it!"

Angel kept her weapon on him while she reached for her cuffs. In seconds, she had him restrained with hands behind his back. After she helped him stand, she ran her hands over him, to check his pockets and retrieve the Glock 19 he'd taken from her in Ethan's bedroom. She shoved it into the waistband of her jeans, under her shirt.

"Angelica. Are you okay?"

When she heard Ethan call out from behind the closed door of the master bedroom, she shoved Bryce onto the sofa and yelled back.

"I'm good, Ethan. Hang tight. I'll be up there soon."

"Ethan's the reason you're not dead. If he hadn't been upstairs..."

"Were you born this stupid, or did you have to work at it?"

The guy was down and in cuffs. Threatening to kill a cop, after he'd earned an a.s.sault charge, was beyond brainless. Angel shook her head in disgust, but when she heard someone pounding on the door, the sound made her jump.

Gabe? It had to be him.

"Stay put. Don't move."

Angel kept her eyes on him as she made her way to the front entry. When she looked through the peephole, she saw her partner.

"Oh, G.o.d."

Gabe had a gash over his right eye and blood streamed down his face. Leaning against the door, he looked like he could barely stand. Without hesitating, Angel unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. Gabe took a couple of steps into the room before his legs buckled. He would've hit the floor hard if she hadn't grabbed him to break his fall.

Angel held Gabe in her arms. As he rested his head against her shoulder, she cupped a hand to his cheek to hold him steady.

"Real touching."

When she heard a laugh and felt the presence of someone towering over her, Angel looked up to see a shadowy face. It took time for her eyes to focus. The skin along her cheekbone, where Bryce had struck her, felt swollen and hot. As the face became clear, Angel winced.

"You?"

Cronan felt sick. The right side of his face pounded with a radiating pain that made it hard to move. With a mounting pressure inside his skull, his head felt like it would explode. He wanted to lie down and sleep, but he fought that feeling...for Angel.

Her face. Her eyes. She came to him when he wanted to shut his eyes. In the shadows of his mind, he felt her near him. The scent of her hair and the softness of her skin wrapped around him, but her face spiraled in shattered pieces, drifting from his reach.

Angel. He tried to say her name, but couldn't hear his voice.

Going from the dark to the light had blinded him. He shielded his eyes with his hand, but it didn't help. The steady ringing in his ears had shrouded him in a thick and stunning haze that he couldn't shake. Whenever he tried to remember what happened, he went blank. He only recalled opening his eyes when someone slapped his face. After he was forced to stand, Cronan doubled over and heaved, but nothing came out.

In a stupor, he felt hands on him, but he didn't have the strength to resist. Someone stripped the Kevlar vest off him, and he got shoved through the dark. He stumbled on, barely able to hold his head up.

Angel.

Cronan felt her presence, but couldn't see her face now. Through squinted eyes he saw a man's legs in front of him and heard the buzz of voices as if they were m.u.f.fled by cotton.

He had to stay awake-for Angel.

"Gabe. Stay with me," Angel touched her partner's fevered cheek as his eyes fluttered closed, and he slumped into her arms. "He needs a doctor."

"He needs an undertaker. The guy's as good as dead," he said. "The only reason he's still breathing is that I didn't want to drag his body from where I cold c.o.c.ked him. You won't be so lucky."

Angel fixed her gaze on the smug face of Joaquin Salazar, Evelyn Carmichael's paid escort. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d curled his lip into heartless sneer. His dark eyes chilled her. Joaquin had taken Gabe's Kevlar vest and wore it now. When he saw that she noticed, he patted his chest and grinned.

Angel remembered what Bryce had said, that she didn't have all the pieces to the puzzle. He'd been right.

"Put the gun down and shove it over to me," Joaquin demanded.

When she did, he kicked it aside, far enough away that she couldn't reach it. She felt the weight of the gun she still had hidden under her shirt.

"Where's mommy dearest? Is she part of this?" she asked.

"Evelyn understands my many appet.i.tes. We share a common hunger, but alas, this is not one of them. I'm afraid she might not approve of my extracurricular activities." Before she said anything more, Joaquin held out a hand. He'd worn gloves so he wouldn't leave fingerprints. "Toss me the keys to his cuffs."

Angel reached into her back pocket. When she threw the keys to him, Joaquin smiled and headed for Bryce. He kept his gun pointed at her as he edged toward the sofa.

"I'm glad you're here, man, but how did you know about this place?" Bryce asked Joaquin as he stood and turned around, holding out his wrists. "Only one other person knew that I'd..."

Bryce didn't finish. With a grimace, he quit talking, but not before Angel had done the math, too. She and Gabe had only told Ethan, Rachel, and Bryce about McFarland's lake house. Gabe had always figured that Ethan's inner circle had a connection to the murders. If Joaquin heard about the digital surveillance of Ethan's obsessed neighbor, the information had to come from one of them.

Sure money was on Rachel.

Joaquin leaned close to Bryce's ear and whispered, "Seeing you in these handcuffs turns me on. Olivia paid me to f.u.c.k you up, but I would've done it for free."

Bryce's head jerked, and he turned. With a brutal look in his eyes, he lunged for Joaquin with his hands still cuffed behind his back. Joaquin raised his weapon and shot him in the heart. Twice. When Bryce staggered back, he dropped his chin to his chest and watched in disbelief as blood soaked his shirt.

Joaquin laughed as if he were high.

Bryce slumped back onto the sofa and died with his eyes open. A red bubble clung to his lips and captured his last gasp.

"Oh, G.o.d." Angel couldn't breathe.

Joaquin had killed Bryce Peterson and the suddenness of the attack-and his crazed, adrenaline fueled laugh-had shocked her. The gunfire left her ears ringing. When Gabe jerked his head and tried to get up, she clutched at him and kept him with her, using his move to slip him the gun she had under her shirt. Gabe looked into her eyes, questioning her logic in giving him the weapon, but she wouldn't let him refuse.

She laid him down and touched a finger to his lips as she fought the sting of tears.

Angel didn't have the stomach to let Joaquin shoot Gabe, unarmed. At least now he had a way to defend himself. She raised her hands and stood to face Joaquin. With a sudden clarity, she had the final piece to the puzzle of Olivia's murder-and a plan.

"You're the one who killed Olivia." She winced as she stepped toward the sofa and Bryce's dead body. "Why you?"

"Don't come any closer," he said.

After she stopped moving, Joaquin stared at Bryce's body and grinned, admiring his marksmanship. When he shifted his eyes to her, Angel felt a chill race over her skin.

"She said she liked what she saw of me at Chez Moreau. The way I was with other men turned her on." Joaquin smiled. "It never was about the money. Bryce...in Ethan's recording studio? How could I say no?"

"But something went wrong. She recorded the a.s.sault and didn't tell you. You couldn't let that happen."

"I wouldn't have found out she'd done it, if she hadn't flaunted it in front of Bryce...and me. I got angry. Took it out on Bryce. Guess she got a better bang for her buck." He shook his head. "I gave her the performance she required, but I couldn't leave her with a recording of my finest hour."

"About Rachel. You had to find out about McFarland's lake house from her. What's your connection...besides Ethan?"

"She thinks we have the same agenda...to protect her precious man child. If Bryce swore he didn't kill Olivia, she must not have believed him. Her doubts left room for me to step in and offer my help. I can be very discreet, you know." He shrugged. "She got tired of covering for this leach." He nudged his head to the dead body. "Guess she figured everything would get blamed on him, no matter who did it. She only wanted Ethan out of the limelight. That was a win-win for me."

Joaquin tossed her the handcuff keys and said, "Make yourself useful. Unlock his cuffs."

Angel caught the keys, not taking her eyes off the man with the gun. The only reason Joaquin had for taking off handcuffs from a corpse was that he planned on staging the scene to pin everything on Bryce. Precious seconds were ticking away until she would run out of time. Through the corner of her eye, she noticed her partner had closed his eyes and hadn't moved.

She inched closer to Bryce as Joaquin backed far enough away that Angel could sit on the sofa next to the body. After she unlocked the cuffs, the dead man's arms fell limp.

As she looked down, she found what she'd come for. A dark shape jutted out from under the coffee table. Her Sig Sauer, the one she had lost in her scuffle with Bryce. When she stared up at Joaquin, she wedged her foot closer to the gun, inching her toe nearer to the weapon.

"So you didn't trust her to keep your secret, even though she'd been guilty, too."

"She thought she'd been clever, but she was a stupid girl. When she told me that she uploaded it somewhere safe, how could I believe her? It was the only evidence that linked me to her and what she'd paid me to do. She simply wasn't a woman who could be trusted, so I made her more trustworthy."

"By killing her."

He only shrugged his answer.

In that moment as Angel stared into the dark eyes of a killer, she suddenly thought of Ethan. He was handcuffed to the bed upstairs and would be helpless. The only reason she had agreed to bring him with her to the lake house was that a fraction of her had believed he would tip the scale to draw out Bryce or p.i.s.s off Rachel enough that she'd do something stupid.

Angel didn't want to think that Ethan had any part in what happened to Olivia or Tim McFarland-not even to protect his reputation and privacy-but she hadn't been sure of him. Despite her suspicions about Rachel and Bryce, she had faith they wouldn't have hurt Ethan physically.

But Joaquin was a coldblooded animal with a taste for the perverse who had no tolerance for witnesses, even blind ones. She felt sick when she realized Ethan could die, too.

"Come to me." Joaquin waved her over as if he were commanding a submissive lover. "Now."

Angel knew what he wanted. He would have her stand where he'd shot Bryce. Crime scene investigators would a.s.sume from the trajectory that she'd been the one to kill Bryce, and in turn Bryce had returned fire and shot her dead. Joaquin would shoot Gabe where he lay, whether he was conscious or not.

Well, screw that. She wasn't about to make it easy on the son of a b.i.t.c.h.

She sat on the edge of the sofa and felt the Sig P239 near her toe. With Joaquin's eyes on her, she didn't have much of a play that wouldn't result in the b.a.s.t.a.r.d getting off a shot. She still wore her Kevlar, but Gabe didn't. From the corner of her eye, she saw that her partner still hadn't moved. Her heart hammered her chest as she tensed her body.

Don't die. You're the one going home.

Angel repeated those words in her mind. She didn't know if she'd meant them more for her or for Gabe.

Chapter 20.

Cronan felt nauseous, and everything had slowed to a crawl. When he'd cracked his eyelids open, his vision had blurred, and he couldn't focus. After he finally got a good look at the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who'd ambushed him-Joaquin Salazar-the a.s.shole had a gun aimed at Angel. That p.i.s.sed him off. He felt the weight of the Glock 19 in his hand, the one that Angel had slipped him.

Ignore the pain. She needs you.

He knew his partner. She'd drawn Salazar's attention so she'd become his first target, leaving him to make an expected kill shot, but Cronan had no intention of letting her make that play.

Angel had to be the one walking away from this.

"I said, come to me...or I'll shoot you where you stand." Joaquin raised his gun and pointed it at Angel's face.

His partner sat on the couch and glared at the man as if she didn't care. Cronan didn't know what she'd do. He only knew she wanted to kill the son of a b.i.t.c.h.

Don't do it, Angel.

It took all his strength to push off the floor and raise the Glock. Salazar wore Kevlar. He had to make a head shot. Cronan didn't hesitate, not even when the room spiraled, and Salazar split apart like a kaleidoscope of fragments. He picked a target and squeezed the trigger.

Cronan kept firing, even after he felt a hot punch to his chest.

He saw Angel move in a blur. She had a gun in her hand. He heard the blast of her weapon and watched as Salazar's body jerked like a grotesque puppet.

Cronan stopped shooting. He collapsed onto his back and fought for every breath. He wanted to see Angel one last time, but when that didn't happen, he shut his eyes and let go.

Angel clenched her jaw as she fired into Joaquin Salazar's body. Gabe had struck him in the neck. Arterial spray pulsed into the air as he dropped, but she made sure he wouldn't get up. With her heart pumping hard, she shook all over as she finally lowered her Sig Sauer.

Joaquin Salazar's face was barely recognizable. His eyes were open. As blood seeped from his wounds, it spilled into his eyes and into his gaping mouth. She stood over him trembling.

In the chaos of the moment, she knew Gabe had saved her life. He'd taken the first shot. That had given her time to grab her gun and make the kill, but when she looked at her partner, she saw the blood and realized he'd been hit.

"No!" she cried.

Angel ran to Gabe and collapsed to her knees. After she pulled up his T-shirt to see the damage, she stripped off her outer shirt and pressed it to the hole in his chest. She checked for his pulse, but her fingers were shaking.

"Come on. You're a fighter, Gabe. Stay with me."

His breathing sounded uneven, and blood frothed from the bullet hole. A sucking chest wound.

"I can't lose you. Not now."

Angel ran for a phone and called 9-1-1. With her body on auto-pilot, she called for an ambulance and police back up before she tore through the kitchen pantry. She grabbed a fistful of sandwich bags and a roll of duct tape and yanked a small comforter off a chair as she ran back to Gabe.

Kneeling next to him, she placed a sandwich bag over the bullet hole and secured pieces of duct tape around three sides of his wound. It was the best she could do before EMTs arrived. The open side would allow air to escape, but the plastic over the gunshot wound would stop his lung from collapsing and doing greater damage.