Angel stood on the porch and stared at the ornate six-panel door. She glanced sideways and read the numbers etched in a stone block set in the brick. For the tenth time she verified that this home—this mansion—was indeed the site of the Woodland Hills Community Church’s monthly youth Bible study.
Emily’s parents were hosting the event, and although her friend had invited her weeks ago, Angel hadn’t planned to attend until Emily told her yesterday that Mike had changed his mind and decided to come after all. When Angel heard that Jake Weston would be substituting for the youth leader, wild horses couldn’t keep her away.
It wasn’t just curiosity that brought her to this affluent suburban neighborhood. It was the fact that Jake would be in the same room with Mike and his friends. That fact seemed almost too coincidental.
Angel had initially scoffed when Crow had suggested the youth group might be a front for drug activity. He’d told her it wouldn’t be the first time.
Angel had raised her hand to knock, when the door opened abruptly. “Hey, Em. What’s up?”
Emily stopped, and her eyes widened in surprise. She quickly recovered and gave Angel a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it. I didn’t think you were coming.”
Angel shrugged, but she couldn’t help but be pleased at the warm welcome. She’d alternately dreaded and looked forward to tonight’s event. On the one hand, she couldn’t wait to see how Jake would run the same type of youth meeting she herself ran before she’d gone undercover. On the other hand, she needed to stay in character tonight and remember she was here as a cop, first and foremost.
Emily directed her inside, and Angel moved off the front porch and into the foyer. She stopped, and her gaze lifted upward before dropping. It was hard to say which was more impressive: the two-story open entry or the Italian marble floor. The touch of an experienced interior designer was evident in the understated elegance that surrounded her.
“Nice place you got here,” Angel said, snapping her gum. Nice? More like gorgeous.
Angel wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. The burnt red skinny jeans and v-neck button front top were trendy and, as far as she was concerned, appropriate for a church-sponsored event. Thankful her hair had cooperated. Instead of doing the Einstein, the mass of wild curls simply tumbled past her shoulders in large, loose waves.
“You look nice.” Emily looped her arm through Angel’s and gave it a squeeze. “It’s wonderful to have a friend here.”
The sincerity in Emily’s voice touched Angel’s heart. The fact that the girl could be so kind, so concerned about making Angel feel welcome when she herself was a nervous wreck was remarkable. Emily had been anxious about this Bible study all week, first worrying that no one would show up and then worrying, what if too many came and they ran out of food or space?
Angel had made like a good friend—voicing little reassurances and letting the girl talk endlessly about her concerns. But she’d only started really listening when Emily mentioned that Mike and his friends had decided to come.
They were almost at the end of the long hall when Emily’s feet slowed. She stopped and turned. “Do you think I look okay?”
A wave of guilt washed over Angel. Here Emily had gone out of her way to make her feel comfortable, and yet she’d done nothing to assuage Emily’s nervous anxiety.
“You look better than okay, Em. You look fabulous.” Angel cast an approving look at the buttercup-yellow tank dress. Relaxed through the waist and hip, the dress minimized Emily’s overly rounded curves.
Actually, tonight the girl looked svelte. Positively thin. Angel’s gaze narrowed. “Have you lost weight?”
Emily flushed. “A little. I’d like to lose fifteen more.”
A sick feeling took up residence in Angel’s stomach. Had Emily succumbed to Mike’s promise of easy weight loss with meth? Dear God, she hoped not. Angel lowered her voice to a whisper. “Tell me you haven’t started—”
“What are you talking about?” Emily looked at her blankly, clearly puzzled.
“Using,” Angel said tersely.
Awareness coupled with disappointment flickered across the girl’s face. Her jaw clenched. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
“Em.” Angel grasped her arm. “I’m sorry. But if not that way, then how?”
“There are other ways to lose weight, besides drugs,” Emily hissed. Her blue eyes flashed.
“Such as?” Angel hated to pry, but she had to know the score.
“Such as diet and exercise.”
Angel raised a brow. “Really?”
“That’s right.” Emily brushed a strand of hair back from her face with a trembling hand. “My mom and I work out together.”
“You never said anything.” Still, now that she thought about it, Emily had stopped eating those chocolate snack cakes in the afternoon, and Angel couldn’t remember the last time the girl had drunk a shake with lunch.
“I didn’t say anything because I wanted to see whether it worked or not,” Emily said, the hurt still in her eyes. “I’ve lost ten pounds in a month.”
“I’m really happy for you,” Angel said. “And I’m really sorry for assuming the worst—but I know what Mike’s been like. What’s he got to say about all this, anyway?”
“Actually, I haven’t seen much of him lately.” Emily’s gaze shifted to her hands and she bit at a cuticle. “He’s been hanging out with his friends more.”
“Didn’t you say he’s coming tonight?”
“That’s what he said. But he can be sort of undependable.” Emily frowned. “He’s already changed his mind a couple of times. First he wasn’t going to come, then he said he would.”
“What made him decide?” Angel forced a teasing smile. “Missed you too much?”
An unladylike snort burst from Emily’s lips. “Hardly. He found out Mr. Weston was doing the meeting.”
“No way.” Angel laughed. “So, he’d rather see the coach than you? Is that it?”
“I guess. I’m still trying to figure it all out.” Emily shrugged, but Angel knew Mike’s erratic behavior upset the girl. Even though Mike was wrong for Emily, Angel hated to see her friend so unhappy. “We’d better go in.”
Angel followed Emily into the oversize family room. Decorated in pale yellow with blue accents, the massive room retained a homey feel. From the fireplace with its bouquet of spring flowers to the rug on the hardwood floor, the effect was warm and inviting.
For a second, though, when they walked in and all eyes shifted to the doorway, Angel felt more like Daniel entering the lion’s den than a welcomed guest. At that moment, Emily wasn’t the only one glad to have a friend at her side.
Angel scanned the crowd. She finally found Jake across the room, sandwiched among four students on a green-and-white striped sofa. Angel’s gaze narrowed and she wished she were a fly on Jarvis Rediger’s ball cap. She’d love to know what Jake was saying to the young outfielder.
“Hey, Angel.” A boy she recognized from her Trig class yelled from the far corner of the room. “There’s a seat over here by me.”