Angels Fall

break. God, I hope it fits. I just want your opinion."

    "All right, as soon as I—"
    "If the two of you are going to stand in my kitchen talking fashion, you might as well take your break now." Joanie moved in, took over the grill. "Make it quick."
    "Thanks, Joanie." Linda-gail grabbed Reece's arm and pulled her out of the kitchen, into Joanie's office.
    "I paid more than I should have," she said as she hustled Reece inside. "But I just loved it." She snagged it from where she'd hung it on the back of Joanie's office door, then held it up against her. "What do you think?"
    It was short and strapless in a tender, spring leaf green. Reece imagined when Linda-gail filled it, it would be a knockout.
    "It's great. Sexy and still fresh. Should be fabulous with your hair, too."
    "Really? Thank God. Now if it doesn't fit. I'll kill myself."
    "Or try something radical like exchanging it for the right size."
    "No time. I need it for tonight. Special Saturday night date with Lo. His term—and he said to wear something wow." She turned and angled in front of the mirror again. "This is pretty wow." There was a quick jump in Reece's belly. "Where are you going?"
    "He won't say. Really secretive about it. I wish I could've gotten back to Jackson for a touch-up, but I had to color my hair myself. It's not too bad, is it?"
    "No, it's fine. It's good. Linda-gail—"
    "It's an ultimatum night." She fluffed one hand at her hair as she did a three-quarters pose for the mirror.
    "He's got to explain—and make it good—about why he lied to me the other night about where he was. He knows it's on the line."
    "Linda-gail, don't go."
    "What? What are you talking about?"
    "Just wait. Don't go off with him anywhere until you know what's going on."
    "I'm going off with him to find out what's going on." With care, she hung the dress on the door again, smoothed its skirt. "He swore it wasn't another woman, and I believe him. If I want this to work I have to give him a chance to explain things."
    "What if… what if he was involved with someone? Before. Seriously involved."
    "Lo? Serious?" She huffed out a laugh. "Not a chance."
    "How could you know, really? How could you be sure?"

    "Because Lo's been on my radar since we were fifteen. He hasn't been serious about anyone ever." Her pretty face went tight with determination. "Not the way he is with me, and the way he's going to stay. What's gotten into you? I thought you liked him."
    "I do. But he wasn't honest with you."
    "That's right, and now he's going to be. I'm either going to like what he has to say tonight, or I won't. I'll either take him or leave him. But I'm damn well going to look fantastic either way."
    "Just… call me. On my cell. Call me when you get where you're going, and after he explains."
    "Jesus, Reece."
    "Just do me that favor. I'll be wondering and worrying if you don't. Just do me that favor, Linda-gail. Please."
    "Okay, fine. But I'm going to feel pretty stupid."
    Better stupid, Reece thought, then hurt and alone.

    AT HIS COMPUTER. Brody was making some progress. He knew Deena Black was born in Oklahoma in August 1974, had a high school diploma and some slaps for soliciting, one for disturbing the peace, two for assault. The second assault had earned her three months in county. Her credit rating was in the toilet. Not that this would be a major concern to her now, if it ever had been. He'd managed to backtrack her to her last two places of employment and residences. She didn't receive glowing references from her employers—a strip club in Albuquerque and a biker bar in Oklahoma City—and her last landlord was still bitter about the two months' rent she'd skipped on. He round one marriage and divorce—both involving one Titus, Paul J., currently doing the second side of a dime in Folsom for assault with a deadly. A quick search on Titus showed Brody this was not the man's first trip courtesy of the state.
    "Weren't what we'd call a sterling citizen, were you. Deena?" Still, she'd been a looker in her way. He had an ID photo of her now, on screen, and could admit there was something compellingly sexy about her.
    "The bad girl," he said aloud. "Who knows it, and likes it that way. And lets you know you'll like it, too." According to the data he found, she still had family in Oklahoma. A mother, a scant seventeen years older than Deena. There was always the possibility Deena had kept in touch, and that she'd told her mother what she hadn't—apparently—told anyone