Chances Are

chapter Nineteen

Guilt clawed his insides like a rabid wolf in a feeding frenzy. God in heaven, she had been tortured.

Jake leaned against the wall outside Angela’s room. A doctor was with her. He had no real clue of her condition. Within a couple of minutes of finding her, an ambulance had arrived and whisked her away. She had still been unconscious but he had seen enough of her injuries to know that she had been through hell.

Clarissa Eaton appeared to be in much better shape, at least physically. Her only visible injuries were ligature bruises on her wrists and ankles plus severe dehydration. Mentally and emotionally she might never recover. She had gone into hysterics when Angela lost consciousness, shrieking and crying as if she were still in danger. McCall had managed to calm her down but she’d become hysterical again the instant the EMTs had placed her on a gurney.

The bastard was in the hospital too, under armed guard. He had briefly regained consciousness and claimed to know nothing about how the women had gotten into his home or what had happened to them.

Delacourte would be put away for life. That should be good enough, but it wasn’t. Jake wanted him to suffer as much as those women had suffered. And he wanted to beat the ever-living shit out of the monster for what he had done to Angela.

The door opened beside him and two women walked out. One of the women, distinguished looking with gray hair and a slight limp, had the nametag with Dr. Lucia Bittner pinned to her white coat. The nurse standing beside her was middle-aged, stocky and reminded Jake a little of his grandmother. Both women wore the same dismal expressions on their faces.

“How is she?”

In lightly accented English, Dr. Bittner said, “Considering what she’s been through, better than one would think. She has a concussion and multiple bruises all over her body. She also has some minor knife cuts to her torso that required a few stitches. Scarring should be minimal. Her feet are probably her most painful injuries. They have first-and second-degree burns, along with some shallow cuts. She won’t be able to walk for several weeks.”

Hell, the freak had only had her for two days but had apparently spent hours torturing her. Jake closed his eyes and swallowed back bile.

Dr. Bittner continued, “The tattoo can be removed but I would suggest she wait until her other injuries are healed.”

“Tattoo?”

“Yes.

Confused, Jake shook his head. That was something Delacourte had never done before. “What kind of tattoo?”

“A rose. Unfortunately he wasn’t a talented artist. It’s quite crude.”

“Where is it?”

“On the back of her neck.”

He took in a shaky breath. Tattoos could be removed, burns would heal, scars would fade. But what about the inside where no one could see? What kind of psychological damage had the monster inflicted?

“Can I see her?”

“In a minute. A nurse is getting her more comfortable.”

Jake nodded and thanked the doctor. Then slumping back against the wall, he covered his face with his hands and wept.



Angela opened her eyes, stretched gingerly and winced. She was still sore and despite the pain medication, her feet still hurt. But it was bearable. And, for the first time in days, her head was clear and her thoughts coherent. What a blessing.

A slight movement to her right brought her gaze to the man lying on the sofa against the wall. His six-foot-five frame was much too large for the short, uncomfortable looking piece of furniture. She had tried to get him to go back to his hotel room and he had refused. Other than when the doctors and nurses came in to perform their duties, Jake had been with her. She knew he had to be exhausted but he told her he wasn’t leaving until she left. The tenderness in his eyes shut down her protests. She was definitely not going to complain if he wanted to stay with her.

At the sudden knocking at the door, Jake sprang to his feet. On his way across the room, he shot Angela a concerned, protective look—the same expression he’d had on his face since she’d woken in the hospital days ago. She had a feeling it was going to be some time before he let her out of his sight again.

He opened the door to reveal Noah, who entered carrying a tray of coffees in one hand and a box of pastries in the other. “Feel up to company?”

“Absolutely. I’m feeling much better today.”

Noah passed her a coffee, then set the opened box of pasties on her tray table. After taking a long swallow of his coffee, he asked, “Samara get in touch with you?”

“Yes.” Angela laughed and added, “Though it was hard to talk to her since Micah kept insisting on talking, too.”

“He’s been very worried about his Aunt Angela.” His eyes went serious and sadder than she’d seen them in a long time. “We all have. Again, I’m sorry for what happened.”

She shook her head. “I’ve told you, Noah, it wasn’t your fault. Besides, it had a good ending.”

She followed his gaze to her bandaged feet. “Okay, so not a perfect ending but a good one all the same. I’ll heal. And we saved Clarissa and stopped Delacourte. That’s what’s most important.”

“You’re right, it is.” He shot a glance at Jake. “I’ve got more info.”

“What’d you find out?” Jake said.

“Delacourte was a working actor up until a few years ago when his one-man play folded. Before that, he had a small amount of success but mostly because of his wife, Rose. She was better known and apparently her husband rode his wife’s coattails to semi-stardom. She died in a boating accident. After that, he had trouble getting work. His last gig—the one-man play—told the tale of Jack the Ripper. Apparently Delacourte identified with him in some way.”

“With Rose being his wife’s name and an actor who once played Jack the Ripper, seems like two damn big red flags we should’ve been able to detect.”

Noah shrugged. “In hindsight, they are. I doubt anyone would have given them thought otherwise, even if they’d known. Until Angela told us, we had no idea he was using disguises. That information helped a heluva lot. Not too many people would’ve suspected a middle-aged has-been actor to be playing out his last role for real.”

“I’m assuming the reason he chose tall, dark-haired women was because that’s what Rose looked like?” Jake asked.

“You got it.”

“But why did he take Clarissa?” Angela said. “Has anyone asked him?”

“He’s still claiming to know nothing about any of the abductions or murders. The police faxed me a family portrait. Delacourte had an older sister who died when he was about fifteen. Looked a lot like Clarissa.”

The conversation she’d had with Clarissa after she had been taken came back to her. “That fits,” Angela said.

“What fits?” Jake said.

“Something Clarissa told me. I don’t remember a lot of what she said because of the drug he’d given me, but I remember she said that he kept telling her the reason he had taken her would soon be revealed to him. He must’ve felt some sort of connection with her but in his crazed mind, he couldn’t figure out why.”

“Maybe that’s why he never injured her,” Jake said. “But why kill the women who looked like his wife?”

It was beginning to make sense in a sick twisted way. “I think he was trying to replace her,” Angela answered. “That’s why he kept shoving those scripts in my face and telling me to read. And when the women didn’t live up to his expectations, he got rid of them and went on to another one.” Her brow furrowed. “But why put the tattoo on my neck? He had never done that with any of his other victims.”

Noah and Jake locked gazes, the expression on both men’s faces indicated neither wanted to answer the question.

“What?” she asked.

“We think he had chosen to keep you,” Jake said. “Marking you with the rose was his brand.”

Despite her feeling of wellbeing, shudders of revulsion went through her. She tried her best to make light of the situation by quipping, “How about that. I must be a better actress than I thought.”

Noah’s mouth moved up in a slight smile but Jake’s remained flat and grim.

Wanting to erase the sadness from his face, she changed the subject. “Did Clarissa make it home okay?”

“Yes.” Noah’s mouth tilted up even more. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

He was right. Clarissa had come by yesterday to thank Angela once again. Though the young woman looked fragile and would probably suffer nightmares for years, the set to her chin and the look in her eyes told Angela she would be fine. Amazing what a person could endure and survive.

“I’m hoping I’ll get to go home today.”

Jake shook his head. “You need to stay here a couple more days.”

“I’ll feel better at home. There’s nothing more the doctors can do. I just need some healing time.”

“You can’t walk yet.”

She lifted her chin. “So? No matter if I stay here or go home, I won’t be able to walk for weeks. At least if I’m home, I’ll be in my own bed.”



Jake watched her closely. Even though he wanted to keep her here, protected from the world, he didn’t argue. Just seeing the stubborn light in her eyes was worth any additional worry he had that she needed to be completely healed before going home. Compared to how she’d looked three days ago, her recovery was nothing short of miraculous. He would never forget the moment she tried to walk to him and then collapsed in his arms. Her courage awed him.

He had yet to tell her that she wasn’t going home alone. They hadn’t talked about their relationship. Hell, she had no idea that he even wanted one. He had been waiting for the right time but now wondered why he hadn’t already told her. At that question, he stopped. Of course he knew why he hadn’t told her. What if she said no? She didn’t seem to blame him for what happened but that didn’t mean she wanted anything else to do with him. He’d rejected her, slept with her when she was in a vulnerable state, and almost let her get killed by a serial killer. It was a wonder she allowed him into her room.

Remaining cautious, he said, “Let’s see what the doctor says before you get too set on leaving.”

As if she’d been summoned, a knock sounded and Dr. Bittner appeared. “How are we doing today?”

“We’re doing just great and want to go home.”

She smiled. “Now that’s a coincidence. I came to tell you that you’re being released today.”

Angela threw a look at Jake, her eyes dancing with an ‘I told you so’ light. How could she act as if nothing had happened when every time he closed his eyes, he imagined the horror she had endured? Her resilience amazed and humbled him.

“No trying to walk on those feet for at least another ten days or so. I’ll send your chart to your regular physician.”

Jake listened carefully as the doctor issued orders about her feet, the lingering headaches she might experience because of her concussion, and the need to watch for infection of the numerous cuts on her body.

“I was thinking about hiring a nurse,” Angela said. “Just for a few days to help me get in and out of the shower and things like that.”

The doctor nodded approvingly. “That’s an excellent idea.”

Jake could feel McCall’s eyes on him. Yesterday he had informed his boss that he would be taking care of Angela when she was released. The man had been set on bringing Angela to his home and hiring someone to care for her. He’d said Samara was quite intent on the idea. Jake had assured him that Samara was more than welcome to come by for visits but that Jake would see to Angela’s care.

McCall hadn’t argued but had seemed dammed amused for some reason.

“I have the plane on standby,” McCall said. “I’ll let them know we’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

As soon as McCall and the doctor walked out the door, Jake turned to her. “I’m going home with you.”

She blinked at him. “Of course you are. There’s plenty of room on the plane.”

“No, I mean I’m moving in with you.”

“What?”

He grinned, hoping he didn’t look as nervous as he felt. “You told me I needed to find a better place to live.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

Jake swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing larger. Dammit, she was right. After what happened to her, she probably wanted nothing to do with him.

“Let me do this for you, Angela. What happened to you was my fault. I should have watched your back.”

Dark eyes stared hard at him for several seconds. He withstood the look. If she wanted to slug him for not being there for her, he’d take that, too. It was no less than he deserved.

Finally, with a small nod, she said, “I appreciate the offer. I could really use the help.”

Relieved that she hadn’t just told him to get the hell out of her life, he said, “I appreciate you letting me help.”

“You’re wrong about one thing, Jake. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

He disagreed, but wasn’t going to argue. She’d let him off the hook way too easy. “I can’t believe you’re healing so quickly. You’ll be back to researching at LCR before you know it.”

Instead of the spunky comeback he expected, her eyes remained dark and solemn. Jake didn’t know what to say to return the light to her eyes. He only knew that he felt responsible for being the one to make it go away in the first place.