The Impostor Page 15

  In minutes, they were in her car and headed toward Dash’s new apartment. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Cherie lounging across the back seat. “Nothing happened,” she informed Dash. “How come whenever you watch her, there’s excitement? When I’m here, it’s more quiet than a library at midnight.”

  “Luck,” he said.

  “What?” Liz asked, turning to glance at him. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing important.”

  Cherie stretched out on the back seat. “I hope you found a nice place for us.”

  Dash hoped the same thing.

  He fought with the door lock in the foyer of his brand-new high-rise home. Because he’d been in such a frantic rush, he hadn’t tried the locks, hadn’t even walked through the apartment that was supposed to be his place.

  But Liz was impressed. “This is a very nice building, Dash. I didn’t expect something so upscale.”

  “What? You thought I’d live in a dump?”

  “Absolutely not. But you have such interesting taste. I expected something more…eclectic.”

  They rode the elevator to the tenth floor with Cherie providing a running commentary. “High-class building, Dash! I just love these mirrored elevators. Great for checking my stocking seams in the back. Do all the Avengers get apartments like this? I can’t wait to be one of you.”

  Dash opened the apartment door and carried Liz’s suitcases inside. There were two bedrooms, and he dropped her stuff in the larger one “Here we go. Guest bedroom.”

  “Very nice,” she complimented. In fact, Liz thought, the place was too nice. It was more than clean The apartment had an unused atmosphere, like a show home. There were no smudges on the mirrors, no leftover newspapers, no dirty laundry.

  In the front room, Dash opened the curtains on a magnificent view of a Rocky Mountain sunset. He swept his arm in a grand gesture. “How about that? My view. I own that view.”

  Liz settled onto the perfect fawn leather sofa ‘You don’t really live here, do you?”

  Dash couldn’t lie. It went against his nature. ‘You’re right, Liz. I rented this joint for a month, just for you.”

  “I don’t get it.” Again, she felt a niggling suspicion about him and his mysterious employer and his apparent knowledge of events before they happened. “How did you know I’d need to leave my apartment?”

  “I didn’t. While I was gone, I found this place and made the arrangements to take it for a month.” ‘You did that in an hour?”

  “Am I amazing, or what?”

  “Unbelievable,” she said. “It seems to me, Dash, that you’re involved in this case in a very strange way. You know of a clue that nobody else would know about. You appear and disappear without any visible means of transportation. You won’t tell me where you work, won’t give me any addresses. What’s going on?”

  He sat beside her on the sofa. “This is going to take some explaining.”

  Cherie stood at the door and waved goodbye to him. “Catch you later, big boy. I’m going to check out the rest of this place. Remember this—No lust. Not unless you’ve figured out how to get away with it.”

  She was gone.

  Liz glared at him. “At least do me the courtesy of looking at me when I’m speaking. Are you working for one of the suspects?”

  “No.”

  “Then who?”

  “I’m working for Agatha herself.”

  “That’s not funny, Dash. Don’t even joke about it. Agatha is dead.”

  “Not really,” he said. How could he explain the cosmos in a quick, easy lesson? He looked directly into Liz’s blue eyes, the mirror to her soul. “Agatha is like me. She’s an angel.”

  “Not that again.” Liz bounded to her feet. With anger driving her steps, she paced across the thick beige carpet. “Maybe there really are angels. That’s a possibility. But I’m doggoned sure that you’re not one of them. You’re solid in form. You’re a private eye.”

  “There’s a hierarchy,” he said. “Rules and regulations for all celestial beings. Here’s how it works, sweetheart, I happen to be assigned to the Denver Branch of Avenging Angels.”

  “Can’t you be serious?”

  “I’ve never been more dead serious in my life. Which, being an angel, is an eternity.”

  “This is ridiculous, and I’m not going to—”

  “Be quiet and listen,” he said. “Sit.”

  Reluctantly, she lowered herself into a chair facing the windows.

  “I’m telling you straight,” he said. “I’m an angel. Now, I’m not going to run through a series of cute miracles to convince you—like dematerializing and reappearing. Either you trust me enough to believe me, or you don’t.”

  “Where are your wings? If you’re an angel, you must have wings.”

  “I fly,” he said casually. “That’s how I found this apartment so fast. I flew, invisible, through the buildings in this area.”

  “Oh, Dash! You really can’t expect me to believe this!”

  “Yeah, Liz. I do.”

  With all his heart, he wanted her to heed his words and believe in him. If she was ready to accept him as he was, as an angel, there might be hope for honesty between them. And if there was honesty, there might be trust.

  He couldn’t change. She’d have to accept him as he was.

  “An Avenging Angel,” she said dubiously. “I thought you guys were supposed to have flaming swords and descend in a rage to whack off the heads of wrongdoers.”

  “Get with it, precious. We’re in the twentieth century, not the Dark Ages. Now we work through the system. Like private investigators.”

  “Angel private eyes?”

  “Here’s what happened with Agatha. Just before she died, she realized that she’d been poisoned. And that’s when she stashed the clue—a capsule that she hid in the falcon.”

  “Bluebird,” she said.

  “Whatever. Anyway, when she got to the heavenly realms, she raised a big stink about being murdered and not having the killer brought to justice. Since she was a woman who devoted her earthly life to good works, she had some pull. On her behalf, St. Michael contacted the Denver offices—”

  “St. Michael?” Liz questioned.

  “Patron of cops. He’s my boss. That’s who I work for. Anyway, he assigned me to Agatha’s case.” He turned his head and looked at her, willing her to accept his sincerity. “I got to admit that this case has been the toughest nut I’ve ever had to crack. The trail is six months old, and we’ve got four solid suspects with secrets in their past.”

  Still, he held her gaze. “And then, there’s you.”

  “What about me?”

  “From the first time I laid eyes on you, I thought you were the cutest little cupcake I’d ever seen. And you got spunk. You got fire. You’re smart as a whip.”

  “I see,” she said. “And this is a problem?”

  “You bet your sweet petunias, it is. I’ve been having thoughts about you that I have no right to be thinking. I’m an angel. No matter how much I want to, I can’t touch you. Lust is one of the seven deadlies.” Within his physical shell, he felt his angel heart clench in a painful knot. “I can’t let myself fall in love with you, Elizabeth.”

  “But I kissed you,” she said.

  “I was wrong to let that happen.”

  “Oh, I get it.” Liz rose from her chair and stood unsteadily. “This whole elaborate story is a con job. You’re trying to tell me that you’re not interested in me. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “You got me wrong.”

  “Well, I’ve got to give you credit, Dash. This is the most creative excuse I’ve ever heard for not having a relationship. You’re an angel? Oh, please. It would be a whole lot easier if you were honest and just said that you didn’t want to get involved.” She trembled. She clutched her hands together. “And what makes you think I’m even interested in a relationship?”

  “Are you?”

  She shook her head so furiously that her hair wh
ipped across her face.

  There was a tap at the door, and Dash went to answer.

  Angelo stood there. He’d abandoned his angelic robes for an elegant Armani suit, tailored to flatter his girth. He strolled inside and went to Liz.

  “Good afternoon. You must be Elizabeth Carradine.” He tapped his chest proudly. “I’m Angelo.”

  “Oh, great! Not another one! I suppose you also work at the Denver Branch of Avenging Angels.”

  “As a matter of act, I do. Although I don’t usually admit to it. Most people are so disbelieving.”

  “Really,” she said. “I can’t imagine why.”

  He turned to Dash. “I have information for you on Gary Gregory. I suspect that he might have altered computer records and created his current identity with an alias, but he did a thorough job of it, and I may never find the truth.”

  “If you’re an angel,” Liz said, “don’t you just know the truth?”

  “In this situation, I have to work through the mortal systems. There is, however, some indication of wrongdoing in Gary’s past. But it’s vague.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Let me put it this way,” Dash explained. “If St. Pete was still keeping the records, there’d be a black mark by Gary’s name.”

  “Good metaphor,” Angelo congratulated him.

  “So, what else did you get on Gary?”

  “He used to work for an insurance company, and that’s the same company he used to finance key-man insurance for Jack Orben and Hector Messenger. He might be taking a kickback.”

  “Or he might be passing on business to friends. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “True,” Angelo concurred. “Also while at the insurance company, Gary supervised malpractice insurance for Dr. Clark Hammerschmidt. In a particularly ugly case, he defended the doctor. Hammerschmidt owes him a favor.”

  Dash nodded. “So Hammerschmidt might have been working a cover-up for Gary while he poisoned Agatha.”

  “Or,” Angelo said, “Dr. Clark Hammerschmidt might simply be incompetent. Actually, that’s rather more likely. The doctor is essentially a good person with an unfortunate penchant for gossip.”

  “Thanks, pal. I appreciate your help.”

  “No problem.”

  Cherie chose this moment to drift lazily into the room, and Angelo perked up the moment he saw her.

  She sidled over to him and introduced herself. “I’m a Guardian right now, but I’d be a great Avenger.”

  “Perhaps,” Angelo responded. “We should talk.”

  He nodded to Liz and headed toward the door where he whispered to Dash, “Remember the advice I gave you in the office.”

  Follow your heart. But what did that mean? His heart told him to submit to the warm, protective feelings that arose when he looked at Liz. His heart told him that he could care for her in the way a mortal man cares for a woman. His heart wanted him to join with her, to make love to her.

  Surely Angelo couldn’t be condoning that unangellike behavior. Maybe he was hinting that Dash wasn’t cut out to be an avenging angel, after all. This might be a setup. Angelo might have plans to get Dash reassigned.

  But that couldn’t be! Angelo, though sometimes an annoying stickler for the rules, was as honest as the day was long. Angelo wasn’t capable of such devious behavior.

  Dash turned to Liz, who perched uneasily on the edge of her chair. As he approached her, she jumped to her feet. “I need some time to think. I’ll go to my bedroom now. Please leave me alone.”

  She closed the door and turned on the overhead light. An angel? Now they had come full cycle, she thought. Just when she was thinking that she could trust him as a private eye, he once again claimed to be an angel. It was a crazy story, and she didn’t understand why he wanted to revisit that lunacy.

  Liz wasn’t gullible. If anything, she’d grown less likely to believe in fairy tales. That’s what this was—a fairy tale. And a convenient excuse to avoid a relationship.

  She unpacked in the clean, sterile apartment and stretched out on the perfectly unwrinkled bedspread. How did he happen to find this place? Did it belong to his office?

  That had to be it. The apartment was another version of the safe house he’d talked about. And Angelo, who was at least as crazy as Dash, must be a co-worker.

  Though Liz hadn’t planned to fall asleep so early, she made the mistake of closing her eyes. Before she faded into unconsciousness, she imagined that she heard Dash’s voice. He said, “Sleep well, precious.”

  And she felt a breeze, though the windows and curtains were closed. The balmy gust of wind, like a breath, lingered on her lips, then glided down her body.

  Contentment spread through her, and she slumbered.

  HER SLEEP was undisturbed, and she didn’t waken until nine o’clock. Being an inveterate morning person, her spirits were renewed by rest, and everything looked better. So what if Dash wanted to pretend he was an angel? His excuses and delusions were unimportant. All that mattered was finding out who had killed Agatha.

  She whipped into the hall and went into the bathroom to shower and change. Today was Saturday, so there was no need to report to OrbenCorp headquarters. However, she thought, it was a perfect day to sneak inside the offices and search.

  As she stepped into the shower, her mind was active. Since Agatha’s bluebird figurine had not been stored in the attic, there were two other places to search—the warehouse facility, where company records were stashed, and the OrbenCorp headquarters, where there was some storage space available. Though it was unlikely that Agatha’s personal effects had been taken to either place, Sarah had mentioned records she’d cleared out of the house. The bluebird might have accidentally been packed with those.

  All clean and ready to go, she strolled into the kitchen and found a pot of coffee already perked. But Dash was nowhere in sight.

  Liz poured a cup and checked the refrigerator, which was mostly empty. There were, however, bagels. She toasted one, spread on cream cheese and strawberry jam and settled at the kitchen table to eat.

  He strolled inside from the balcony. His long-sleeved shirt was rolled up at the wrists and his trousers were loose-fitting. No fedora, of course. This was the most casual attire she’d seen him wear, and she liked the look. He seemed less weird and more accessible. “Good morning, Dash.”

  His brown eyes were warm as the rising sun when he gazed at her. “Good morning.”

  “How’s the weather outside?”

  “Crisp.” When he grinned broadly and chuckled, he looked about twenty years old. “I can’t believe this. I rested in my own bed last night. I got up and here you are.”

  “Is that such a huge surprise?”

  “Yeah, sweetheart, it is. Angels don’t have homes. Usually, I just float.”

  “Well, let’s not dwell on it, shall we? I’d like to proceed in solving the crime so we can both get back to our lives.”

  “You bet. Soon as you’re ready we can visit Sister Muriel. I want to get the inside dope on Sarah and the house.”

  “Right,” she said. “Sarah’s only motive for murdering Agatha would be to inherit. However, if she’s serious about turning the house over to the shelter, she’d know she wouldn’t really inherit and would, therefore, have no motive.”

  “You got it, Liz.” His smile was gentle and warm as a caress. “You’re starting to think like me.”

  “I guess that makes both of us into good private detectives,” she said. “Detectives, not angels.”

  “Still don’t trust me?”

  “Let’s just say that I’m too old for fairy tales.”

  She grabbed a lightweight jacket and joined him in the front room where he had once again donned his patented Sam Spade trench coat.

  They took her car, and Dash gave directions to the shelter where Sister Muriel currently worked. She came to the door when they inquired for her, and she stepped out on the wide veranda. Her smile at Dash was positively radiant. “I hop
e you don’t mind staying out here. Many of our ladies are uncomfortable around men.”

  “I understand.” Nothing infuriated his sense of justice more than the idea that there were strong men who would beat women and children. He would do anything to lighten the burden of the people who found a safe haven here.

  Sister Muriel led them to a grouping of wooden outdoor furniture. “Now,” she said, “how can I help you?”

  Anxious to practice her interrogation skills, Liz answered, “We had a few questions about Sarah Orben Pachen.”

  “Yes?”

  “Have you found her to be…” How to say this without explaining the whole murder scenario? “Difficult to work with?” Liz concluded. “Do you think she’s in favor of the shelter or trying to block it?”

  “Most definitely in favor.” She cast a puzzled glance at Dash. “I thought you knew.”

  “No,” he said.

  “Then you didn’t come here to offer comfort and solace to poor Sarah. I thought you were…”

  “I am,” he said. “But Agatha is my mission. Her death.”

  “Oh, dear. That doesn’t sound good.”

  “I’ve come to avenge her death,” he said.

  “Dear me.” Her voice was shocked, but her eyes twinkled behind her wire-rimmed glasses. “The world is changing so very quickly, it’s hard to keep up. I never thought I’d see someone like you, Dash, with someone like you, Liz.”

  “What does that mean?” Liz asked.

  “I think you make a perfectly lovely couple, but you’re awfully different. Liz, you’re a mortal woman. And, of course, Dash is…”

  “Is what?” Liz demanded. “Dash is what?”

  “Let’s just say that as a human being, he’s an imposter.”

  “Can we get back to Sarah?” Liz asked.

  “Oh, yes, poor Sarah. She’s determined to fulfill the terms of Agatha’s will. And, of course, she has every reason to be sympathetic to our cause.”

  “Why’s that?” Liz asked.

  “Sarah was abused by her ex-husband. Rather badly so, but she seems to be healing.” Sister Muriel frowned. “I hope I’m not talking out of turn.”