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Angel's Touch [PUP Squad Alpha 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Abby Blake
Authors: Abby Blake
Tags: Romance
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ANGEL’S TOUCH
PUP Squad Alpha 7
ABBY BLAKE
Copyright © 2012
Prologue
“I’m sorry to hear about your sister, Dave.”
Dave Jenkins nodded in acknowledgement and bit back the urge to tell yet another sympathetic coworker the truth. It had taken some seriously fucked-up maneuvering, but between himself, Ronan Deeks, and the members of PUP Squad Alpha they’d managed to provide enough information to make Kali’s supposed death look genuine.
It had helped of course that the Paranormal Undercover Protection squads did this sort of thing for a living.
Dave finished the paperwork he’d been doing on an apparent murder-suicide of the average, yet still tragic, human variety and glanced at the clock. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d finished a shift on time. Each day seemed to bring one more reason to stay late, another murder, another innocent victim, another violent offender. It seemed never ending, and on nights like tonight where there was no one to save and no killer to bring to justice, the job felt hollow.
He’d worked homicide longer than most. Maybe, as his wife had been subtly suggesting for months, it was time he moved on. He reached for the phone to ring Kate and let her know he’d be home soon, when one of his colleagues walked into his office and placed a box on Dave’s desk.
“Looks personal,” he said with a shrug as he left the room.
It was indeed addressed to Dave, but it was the sender’s name that caught his attention. April Childes. She was the mother of the pixie assassin’s first victim, Bethany Childes, and had been devastated by her daughter’s horrific murder. It was clear that she wanted answers, but knowing the truth about what had happened would only confuse the poor woman more. Knowing that her daughter had likely been gifted with the knowledge of an Oracle at her birth and then murdered because of it twenty-seven years later would not help the woman sleep better at night. Dave shook his head sadly as he opened the box and found a handwritten note from April Childes.
It read simply, “I thought these might help,” and was signed in a shaky hand.
Determined to do right by a woman who was grieving, Dave lifted the leather-bound appointment diary from the top. A quick glance confirmed it was one of many. He riffled through the pages quickly, feeling the need to at least be able to look the lady in the eye and say that he hadn’t been able to find any answers to her daughter’s death in the diaries.
A strange little scribble caught his eye as he flicked through the pages, but it wasn’t until he saw it for the third time that he took a closer look. He grabbed the other books, opening them to pages that had the same scribble. There was also a carefully written website address listed under the twelfth of January—Bethany’s birthday—in each diary.
Curious, but not very hopeful that it was more than just a dead end, Dave typed the website into his computer. Immediately a small box opened asking for a password. Working on the assumption that the recurring scribble and yearly entry of the website were linked, Dave looked closely at the squiggle, trying to discern letters, numbers, or symbols that might indicate a password of sorts.
On his fifth attempt the password was accepted. Feeling buoyed by the small victory, he was almost floored by the amount of information that came up. Ironically, other than the odd, seemingly out-of-place, repetition of the word Oracle, the rest of it seemed to be in a language he’d never seen before. He scrolled to the bottom of the page, his eyes widening when he saw that it was page one of four thousand seven hundred and two. No wonder Bethany had been known as a workaholic. Between this diary and her busy schedule as a hardworking public defender she would have had little time for anything else.
He grabbed the phone, dialed a number he knew better than his own, and left two words on the answering
PUP Squad Alpha 7
ABBY BLAKE
Copyright © 2012
Prologue
“I’m sorry to hear about your sister, Dave.”
Dave Jenkins nodded in acknowledgement and bit back the urge to tell yet another sympathetic coworker the truth. It had taken some seriously fucked-up maneuvering, but between himself, Ronan Deeks, and the members of PUP Squad Alpha they’d managed to provide enough information to make Kali’s supposed death look genuine.
It had helped of course that the Paranormal Undercover Protection squads did this sort of thing for a living.
Dave finished the paperwork he’d been doing on an apparent murder-suicide of the average, yet still tragic, human variety and glanced at the clock. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d finished a shift on time. Each day seemed to bring one more reason to stay late, another murder, another innocent victim, another violent offender. It seemed never ending, and on nights like tonight where there was no one to save and no killer to bring to justice, the job felt hollow.
He’d worked homicide longer than most. Maybe, as his wife had been subtly suggesting for months, it was time he moved on. He reached for the phone to ring Kate and let her know he’d be home soon, when one of his colleagues walked into his office and placed a box on Dave’s desk.
“Looks personal,” he said with a shrug as he left the room.
It was indeed addressed to Dave, but it was the sender’s name that caught his attention. April Childes. She was the mother of the pixie assassin’s first victim, Bethany Childes, and had been devastated by her daughter’s horrific murder. It was clear that she wanted answers, but knowing the truth about what had happened would only confuse the poor woman more. Knowing that her daughter had likely been gifted with the knowledge of an Oracle at her birth and then murdered because of it twenty-seven years later would not help the woman sleep better at night. Dave shook his head sadly as he opened the box and found a handwritten note from April Childes.
It read simply, “I thought these might help,” and was signed in a shaky hand.
Determined to do right by a woman who was grieving, Dave lifted the leather-bound appointment diary from the top. A quick glance confirmed it was one of many. He riffled through the pages quickly, feeling the need to at least be able to look the lady in the eye and say that he hadn’t been able to find any answers to her daughter’s death in the diaries.
A strange little scribble caught his eye as he flicked through the pages, but it wasn’t until he saw it for the third time that he took a closer look. He grabbed the other books, opening them to pages that had the same scribble. There was also a carefully written website address listed under the twelfth of January—Bethany’s birthday—in each diary.
Curious, but not very hopeful that it was more than just a dead end, Dave typed the website into his computer. Immediately a small box opened asking for a password. Working on the assumption that the recurring scribble and yearly entry of the website were linked, Dave looked closely at the squiggle, trying to discern letters, numbers, or symbols that might indicate a password of sorts.
On his fifth attempt the password was accepted. Feeling buoyed by the small victory, he was almost floored by the amount of information that came up. Ironically, other than the odd, seemingly out-of-place, repetition of the word Oracle, the rest of it seemed to be in a language he’d never seen before. He scrolled to the bottom of the page, his eyes widening when he saw that it was page one of four thousand seven hundred and two. No wonder Bethany had been known as a workaholic. Between this diary and her busy schedule as a hardworking public defender she would have had little time for anything else.
He grabbed the phone, dialed a number he knew better than his own, and left two words on the answering
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