“I didn’t ask where,” Crow said. “I asked what. Is there anything in there you wouldn’t want anyone to see?”
Despite her fear, Angel recognized that Crow was showing remarkable restraint. Of course, he didn’t yet realize she’d done something that had the potential to blow the whole investigation.
She took a deep breath. “Just a picture of Tony and me. But I doubt anyone would recognize him. And even if they did, it shouldn’t matter.”
“That’s all? Just a picture of you and your cousin?”
She hesitated. “And my driver’s license.”
Crow’s voice was low and taut. “The one showing your real age?”
Angel nodded.
An expletive burst from Crow’s lips like a gunshot, and his palm hit the table with a resounding smack. “How could you be so stupid? Don’t you have a brain?”
Heads turned, and Angel realized they’d unwittingly captured the attention of the entire restaurant. Two burly construction workers slid out of their booth, casting murderous glances at Crow. They took a step forward, and Angel could see they meant to defend her against the enraged bull across the table.
She had to defuse the situation. And fast.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Angel pushed herself up just far enough to allow her to lean over the cluttered table and kiss Crow full on the lips. While he was still sputtering, she took full advantage of the moment.
She stroked his cheek with one hand, grateful he didn’t bat it away, and raised her voice to a sultry whisper loud enough to be overheard. “Sweetie, don’t be such a bear. Why don’t we go over to your place, and I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
Crow was quick. Angel could see by the look in his eyes that he realized the seriousness of the situation.
He laced his fingers through her hair with one hand and brought her face closer for another kiss, before answering in that whiskey voice, “I’m all yours, babe.”
Catcalls and whistles accompanied their walk out of the café and across the rocky lot to their car.
Only when she was safely ensconced in the high-performance Ford’s front seat did Angel relax. She leaned her head back and cast her partner a sideways glance. “I’m sorry, Crow.”
He slid behind the steering wheel. “You did good back there. That was some quick thinking.”
“I mean about leaving the backpack. It was inexcusable.”
The engine roared to life, and Crow tore out of the graveled lot in a thick cloud of dust.
“Let’s just wait and see who found your bag.” Crow turned onto the highway and headed back in the direction of the school. “But you have to realize, if there’s any chance at all that your cover’s been blown, you’re out of there.”
Angel sighed. He was right. It would be not only dangerous for her, but for Crow, as well, if her true identity were revealed.
Crow dropped her off in front of the school, and she raced up the front steps. The halls were filled with students, but Angel barely answered the few scattered greetings tossed her way. For once she was glad she didn’t have many friends.
She wove her way through the students, praying that her bag would still be where she’d left it. The route was familiar and automatic, especially at this time of day. Her last class, history with Jake, was right across the hall from her locker.
By the time she got close, the halls were almost deserted and the warning bell had already rung. She had a clear view of the hall and the spot where she knew she’d left her bag.
Empty.
Her shoulders sagged.
If given another chance, she knew she could solve this case. She wouldn’t have accepted it if she’d thought otherwise.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and her hand automatically went to the side where she normally kept her weapon—then she remembered: she didn’t have it with her.
“Angel,” Jake called from the doorway behind her, and she whirled. His hand rose from his side, and dangling from his outstretched fingers hung her purple backpack.
He lifted a brow. “Looking for this?”
Angel tore her gaze from the bag, smiled with more than a bit of relief, and held out her hand. “Yep, it’s mine. Hand it over.”
“Got any proof?” He made no effort to let go of the backpack.
Frustrated, she let her arm drop to her side. “What kind of proof?” She narrowed her gaze. “I said it was mine.”
“Is there any identification in it showing it’s yours?”
She stiffened. Had he found the license? Was he baiting her? She studied him carefully. Or was this teasing purely innocent?
“No ID,” she said casually. “But I can identify every book that’s in there.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“Shoot?”
“Name the textbooks.”
She thought for a moment. “English Lit, Trig, your history book—”
“That’s good enough.” He held out the bag, and it was all she could do not to snatch it from his hands.
She hugged it to her chest, relieved to have it back in her possession. But something didn’t feel quite right. How had he known the contents? “So, I take it you did look through it?”
He shrugged. “I glanced inside looking for a wallet, but there were only books.”
She wanted to ask him why he’d made it sound like there was some sort of identification inside, but she didn’t get the chance. The final bell sounded, and Jake motioned her toward the open classroom door. She entered in front of him.
He seemed sincere. Maybe this was her lucky day. Maybe she’d still have a chance to crack this case.
Or maybe she really had something to worry about.
Chapter Six
Jake dialed the number he’d been given and listened to the rings. One. Two. Three.
A woman answered just before the voice-mail kicked in. “Debra Dean.”
“Ms. Dean. This is Jake Weston. I’m the assistant principal at Woodland Hills High School.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Weston?” The voice was businesslike but not unfriendly.
Jake took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I’m trying to locate a friend who subbed for the district last semester. Unfortunately, our records at Woodland Hills are no help. He’s no longer at his old address, and his phone has been disconnected.”
“Hmm.” She paused, and he could hear what sounded like a pencil tapping against a desk. “I’m not sure if we’d have anything more current.”
“Could you check?” It was all Jake could do to keep his tone even.
“I’m in the middle of something right now,” she said. “Can I call you back?”
“Sure. Let me give you my number.” He gave her his home, work and cellular numbers.
“I can’t guarantee anything.”
“I’ll take whatever you have.” Right now he had nothing. No current address or phone. No next of kin. Nothing.
“All right.” She sighed. “Tell me what information you do have.”
Jake answered her questions the best he could, which was hard considering he knew next to nothing about the guy.
He hoped that would soon change. By tomorrow he should have Tony’s phone number. Then he’d know the extent of the relationship between the former teacher and Angel. And then he’d know what he needed to do.