“What do you mean you are the police?” she demanded. “You’re a freaking lawyer.”

“Yes, that too,” Henry winked at her appalled look and looked back on the monitor. “I sort of have two jobs.”

“What the hell do you mean? Hey, I’m talking to you,” he felt her nudge his arm by her finger.

“What?” he asked irritably. When he saw her face, he sighed. “I told you the truth. I am the police—well, sort of.”

“And I asked you, what the hell does that mean? Like the NYPD?”

Despite her messy hair, she looked so darn beautiful with her eyes on fire, her eyebrows arched in question, and Henry fought the urge to wipe her face clean.

“Just…clean up first,” he looked away and focused his attention back on the computer. “Then we’ll talk.”

She seemed to think about it for a few seconds before she walked away and disappeared into the shower room. He didn’t know how much had to tell her, but he had to tell her something. Telling her he was the police was half a lie. He was not a cop. He was a little bit more than that, but he couldn’t tell her that. That would jeopardize his other objectives.

 *****

Angelica took her time cleaning up. She stepped under the warm shower and cringed as her wounds and scratches stung. She had to cool her head and assess everything that happened to her. She had to make sure that everything was going to be alright and that she would be back to normal.

All in one day, she found out her father was dead, and probably murdered, she thought, and then she found out he asked his young friend to be her guardian at her age—God help her she was too old and smart to have one—and she got kidnapped by people she didn’t know, looking for a document she had but she couldn’t even open, and then got rescued by her so-called guardian who claimed he was one of the authorities. Only in the movies…she wondered whether the movies could think of making something similar. If I am to be the actress, I will turn it down, she thought bitterly.

This morning she woke up ready for battle. Battle against her colleagues who looked down on her because of her age, thinking she was too young to be where she was—that kind of battle she wa too prepared for. But the one she just had, being kidnapped and almost getting killed was never in her plan.

Oh my God…I almost got killed…

Yeah, it was probably too late to shake and cry in fear, but she did just that. The adrenaline that drove her angry and courageous earlier had worn off and now she was just tired and freaking scared. But she was too proud to admit that to anyone but herself. She was the most tactless person she had ever known, but telling everyone she was at her weakest point was probably the last thing she’d do.

Somehow she was hurt knowing outside the shower room was a man her father trusted. Patrick Dalton chose to tell someone about his troubles but never his own daughter. Did he think she was still too young to understand? Did he think she was still his genius daughter who was too naïve to think of anything else other than skipping high school and entering medical school at a young age? Did he think she never cared that he never talked to her about his firm?

I am not a child, Dad, she whispered in her mind and hoped he could hear her wherever he was right now. I am not that weak as you might think, she added. All her life, she tried and tried to show him that. She tried to show him she was strong and she could do almost everything. She was smart enough to skip three years of high school, she was perspicacious enough to take as much subjects in premed, and she was freaking too intelligent to graduate four years earlier than what was normal.

So why? Why couldn’t he just have trusted me with just a tinge of truth? Why couldn’t he tell me?

She wondered then what Jessica would say if she knew. Her sister was the stronger of them two, and she, Angelica—believe it or not—was the quiet, nerdy, loner one. But that was before Jessica was gone. Oh, Jess, I hope you’re here. I know you’ll fight for me on this one. You will have an answer to everything, she thought, leaning her forehead against the tiled wall of the shower room.

But Jessica was long gone and she was completely alone now. She had to face this one on her own. With renewed energy, she straightened and finished her shower and walked out and went to her locker, choosing a pair of dark pants, running shoes that she always kept ready for her morning runs, a clean fitting gray shirt with white letters print, ‘I’m a doctor and I save lives’ at the front, and finally, she found a rubber band to hold her hair up. However she loved her dresses and shoes, she couldn’t risk having them ruined if ever she got kidnapped once again.

Checking her face in the mirror, she looked at the small slash across her cheek. It had stopped bleeding, and now that she could see it clearly, it was not that deep to leave a mark. Her eyes though were a bit puffy, but not too noticeable. Angelica took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, ready for battle. You’re strong, Angelica, you can do it. Jessica’s face flashed across her mind. Be with me, Jess.

 *****

The first thing Henry saw as Angelica walked out of the shower room was her eyes. Had she been crying? He asked himself. He never took her for someone who would bother shedding a tear at moments like this. Hell, she had so much gut earlier but now she was crying? He wanted to believe he was mistaken, but something nudged inside him. Maybe there was something more to Angelica Dalton than what he thought after all. Maybe she was just as frail as any woman could be.

He shook his growing curiosity and tried to ignore the weakness she was trying to hide. He knew she’d only be offended if he as much as try to comfort her. Not that he would ever do that anyway. Women like Angelica Dalton would take his actions the wrong way and he didn’t want to be another Philip Strindberg who had always been secretly frustrated having someone like Angelica running after you wherever you went.

“What are you looking at?” she asked, her eyebrows forming a line. When he saw her lips twitch, he looked away and gazed back at the screen. That was what he was talking about. That naughty, wicked, and enchanted smile of hers he had noticed a long time ago when he met her at a party. It always meant that Philip had to make a quick exit to escape and he would be the one who’d make excuses for him and divert Angelica’s attention.

“Nothing,” he cleared his throat. “I don’t think I can open this one on my own.”

“Explain,” she stated, and he saw her walking closer from the corner of his eye. Did her hips have to sway like that? “What do you mean you’re with the authorities?”

“I did not exactly say that.” He tried to think of a way out of the conversation.

“Then tell me, who are you really, Bell? If you’re with the police, let me see your badge. Let me see an I.D.”

He had an I.D, all right but he never planned to show it to her. “I can’t tell you, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay.” Her blue eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “I don’t think I trust you.”

“Good. Don’t.” He was serious when he said that. All his life, he was living a lie, talking lies, doing lies. It was not shocking to learn she couldn’t trust him. “I’m here to protect you. That’s all you need to know about me.”

“I can’t let someone into my life when I know I can’t trust them.”

Henry chuckled. “You don’t have to have me into your life. I’ll be outside it observing and watching—just like today—until this is all over. You won’t even know I’m there.”

“Like a stalker? That will be creepy.”

“No, like a distant shadow.”

“I don’t think—”

“But sometimes, you’ll need to let me come close. Like tomorrow, I need to be there at your father’s cremation.”

“I don’t want—”

“And I want every one of your father’s associates and partners present.”

“That will be—”

“One of them might be his killer.”

“Don’t cut me off—” she stared to say angrily but stopped when his words sank in. Henry smiled inwardly at her startled, beautiful, fresh face. “You think someone killed him?”

Henry nodded, glad that he finally had her full attention. “Your kidnapping confirmed my suspicion.”

“But you can never be sure,” she stated.

Henry shrugged. “We can have an autopsy if you want.”

“I—” he looked at her hesitant face.

“You what?” he asked.

“I already did that,” she finished.

Henry looked at her with amusement. “You did?”

“Yes,” she snapped. “But that doesn’t mean I believe he was killed.”

“But you suspected it,” he stated without question.

“Maybe,” and she turned around so he couldn’t see her face.

Henry was more curious now about his ward than he was before. He was starting to see something about he never saw before. He always thought of her as the desperate woman who chased men for attention, but right now, he was seeing a serious, smart red-haired beauty that was scared but too proud to admit it.

“If I invite my father’s friends tomorrow, it will be according to my rules,” she said, almost in a whisper. “You can’t say a word about what happened to me to anyone, understood?”

“No problem,” he answered.

Henry thought he heard her sigh as she walked over to the couch across the room.

“You have to rest, Dalton,” he said, his voice gentler than he intended. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

“What about the device?” she asked.

He took the device from the computer and dropped it in his jacket pocket. “I’ll have a friend check it out.”

“I want to come along.”

“No, he doesn’t want other people—”

“It’s my device and if I say I want to come along when it gets opened,” she insisted, her blue eyes on fire.

Henry thought for a moment, and then sighed. “Fine. But it will be according to my rules,” he said, copying her words.

“Whatever,” she muttered and dropped on the couch.

“Who said we’re resting here?” he announced, walking towards her.

She looked lost for a moment there as he went to open the door. “What do you mean?”

“We’re going to my place,” he turned and gave her a wink, motioning his head. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t think—”

“Those guys probably know you’re here.” At his words, she jumped to her feet and followed after him.

 *****

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Angelica muttered, puffing her cheeks and blowing out a breath.

“Doing what?” Henry asked her, his eyes fixed on the road.

“Going to your place.”

“For someone who chases men around, I find that quite surprising.”

Angelica knew he was speaking from his own opinion, but what he said hurt. He might as well have said she was a slut.

Despite the little hurt though, she didn’t feel like fighting back. She was used knowing what others thought of her. The important thing was how she knew herself. Ever since Jessica’s death, she vowed to be like her—to be strong, and true, and real. In life, you have to be strong and that’s what she was. Or at least that’s what she was becoming.

“This is different,” she answered after a long time and she was not even sure if Henry knew it was supposed to be an answer to his remark.

“You have to be ready for tomorrow,” he said, changing the subject. “Call Hartman and tell him you changed your mind. I want to see every one of your father’s partners tomorrow.”

“Do I look like your secretary?” she turned on the car seat to face him. “What? You think I am?”

She saw his eyebrows snap together. “What the hell are you talking—” he stopped, realizing what she was talking about. “Oh, I get it, you hate orders. So, please,” he said in exaggeration, “please, please, call Hartman and order him to invite all your father’s partners.” When he looked at her, his eyes were the perfect example of the word irritation. “And please,” he added, “stop being a brat and just do what I say.”

Angelica gaped, staring at her guardian in disbelief.

I have to get rid of him, she thought as she huffed and straightened against the chair.