Kenneth ushered her into his office and closed the door behind them. Despite the high-powered position he held, his office was sparse, the furniture dated and cluttered with papers. Angel’s brow crooked in sarcastic bewilderment.

“I don’t get how you can win so many cases, given your disorganization. How do you find anything?”

Kenneth smiled as she settled into one of the hard, wooden chairs and he went around the desk. “Ah! I love my chaos. I know where everything is.”

“I bet your assistant wants to shoot herself.”

“So, what do I owe the pleasure? You haven’t been around much lately.” Kenneth’s softly spoken words were loaded with hidden meaning. He knew it. She did, too.

“Yeah. Really busy. The radio show and everything.”

“Yes, I heard it once or twice.” He threw a pen down on his desk and shuffled some papers out of the way. “Stupid people.”

Angel flushed and her back stiffened. He just didn’t get it. He never did. “Everyone has problems, Kenneth. Even you,” she said pointedly.

“Pfft. My biggest problem is when I get to see you. I’ve missed you.”

“You’re seeing me now,” Angel dismissed, not wanting to get into the discussion of why they were no longer having sex. “And, it’s me with the problem. I need your advice.”

Kenneth leaned back in his chair and studied the beautiful woman in front of him. She was elegant and composed, her dark tresses smoothed back in a professional chignon that her manicured hand reached up to check, make-up perfect. “What’s this about? Swanson?”

Angel’s eyes widened in surprise. “How’d you know?”

He shrugged and began to roll down the sleeves of his white dress shirt and tighten the red and grey tie in preparation for his court appearance. “The guy’s scum. Everyone knows he’s guilty as sin, but it only matters what we can prove. That’s where little wonder-Angel comes in.”

“Wonder-Angel? I can’t prove a damn thing as it stands now. The tests aren’t infallible, and I can’t manufacture answers. The only thing I can think to do is tell him the files got deleted and we need to re-administer them. He cheats the tests, but maybe if we rattle his cage and make him think we’re fishing, he’ll crack.”

“We are fishing. Have you spoken to Stacey about this? She’s the one prosecuting the case.”

“I have a deposition tomorrow, but I’m not ready. If I go in now, I’ll have to say the tests were inconclusive at best. It’s not enough. We need more.”

“His lawyer, Felix Mann, is a shark. He’ll eat you alive.”

Angel’s chin jutted out in indignation. “I can handle anything that bastard dishes out, but there’s more. After the test session, Mr. Swanson told me to make sure he was innocent, and now some thug’s after me. Last night…”

“What?” Ken exploded.

“Calm down. Nothing’s happened yet. Just words so far.”

“Angel! Stop being so blasé about it!” He moved to sit in the chair next to her and take her hand. “Tell me what happened!”

“Some guy came to my building, buzzed my apartment, and told me that if I knew what was good for me, I’d make sure Swanson gets acquitted.” She purposely left out the threat on Alex.

Ken caressed her delicate knuckles but she itched to pull away. His hands felt sweaty and weak, not strong and assertive, assured in every single movement. She flushed at her thoughts.

“They came to your home? We should call the police and have you removed from the case.”

“No!” She pulled her hands free and stood, turning back to Kenneth after she’d walked a few steps away. “We have to catch him in the act. I mean… he’d just do it to someone else who is less equipped to deal with him, so it’s best to just go with the flow. I needed someone to know what’s going on in case something happens, so just tell Stacey I lost the flash drive, all of my notes, and the test results. Have her get a continuance. Whatever! Just help me pin this bastard to the wall.” Angel rattled on frantically, a tone that Kenneth rarely heard her use. He felt uneasiness grip his chest. “You know better than anyone… we need something concrete.”

“Did you recognize the voice?”

“No.” A tremor ran through her and Kenneth noticed, his eyes narrowing. “But it was nasty and unnatural.”

“Angel, let’s just put someone else on it. There are other cases you can work on.” His hands spread out in front of him as he moved closer, his eyes boring into hers. “You’re in danger and I won’t have that.”

Angel huffed and straightened to her full height plus the four inches of her heels. “Well, it’s not up to you, is it? You can either help me, or not. Decide.”

She crossed her arms across her chest as she scowled at him.

“And it is my decision. This office assigned you.” Angel scowled at him. “Have you thought about what it could mean to those close to you? Becca and the baby? Me? Hell, who knows? Even your father? What if something happened to you? He’d be heartbroken.”

Angel signed heavily. “Of course I have, Kenneth! What good will it do for me to turn tail and run? Swanson will think he won, and I couldn’t live with it! This fucker needs to go down before he hurts anyone else. He’s slime and he’s damn well capable of a lot more than rape.” Her tone softened, pleading, “So—help me.”

Kenneth’s arms closed around Angel’s slight form as he pulled her close. “Okay, Angel. Okay.”

* * *

Alex’s chest protested as he pulled in a breath. Exhaustion and jet lag weren’t enough to keep him from finding his way to his destination. He stood against his car at the far side of the parking lot of KKIS, waiting. He ran both of his hands through his hair, impatience eating away at his insides.

It seemed like he was always waiting; waiting to call her, waiting to get back to Chicago… waiting for her goddamn show to be over, waiting to see her. The past four hours had dragged, even as he listened to her weave the incredible magic of her silken voice over the airwaves. And, the past five days? Fuck, he didn’t even want to think about it. Control, Alex, he told himself. You are in control. You control your environment. You. Only you. Yet, here he was, waiting for her like a dog.

“Fuck!” he muttered in amused disgust.

He crossed his arms over his strong chest, the white T-shirt stretching taut over his broad shoulders as the hot air, now hotter, left his body. It was a muggy night; clear, yet the stars were hidden by the massive light reflection of the city. The air was heavy, condensing in small beads on his golden skin.

Alex glanced around the large parking lot and the surrounding street. It was an older neighborhood, the few business buildings, restaurants, and bars still wearing the clothing of yesteryear—quaint and cozy—where locals lived, worked, and played. A little blast from the past existing in the middle of greater Chicago, untouched by modern accouterments; except for the station. It didn’t fit. Like a twenty-first century alien in Mayberry.

The radio played through the open window of the car, a spot for a local car dealer followed by an announcement of a charity event in the park, a battle of bands in the park that benefited childhood cancer. It sounded fun and like something Angel would surely enjoy. He noted the date in his Blackberry as a bunch of kids scuttled across the street toward the station. Some of them were tall, but they were a mix of heights and ethnic backgrounds. Five in all, dressed in black, their clothing and hats way too much for the August weather. The hair on the back of Alex’s neck and forearms stood on end. Something felt wrong. His body went rigid as he pushed off of the car, muscles coiling as he watched them carefully.

Alex leaned into the car to lower the volume on the stereo and strained to hear their conversation. They moved with deliberation toward the two cars near the front of the station, Angel’s Lexus and an old Ford Taurus. They moved in closer to them, inspecting and looking in the windows, mumbling in low tones. Alex saw the flash of metal reflecting the light from the street lamps.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Alex yelled into the silence, adrenaline rushing through his body, his heart pumping loudly in his ears. “Get away from there!” He walked in long, quick strides toward Angel’s car.

The group startled, glancing over their shoulders before scurrying off into the inky darkness, disappearing down a residential street south of the parking lot, amidst a barrage of whispered curses.

“What the hell?” he muttered as he walked around the car, checking for any evidence of vandalism. He glanced in the windows, taking in the dark leather seats, looking for anything that would tempt potential thieves. Her gym bag was on the back floorboard, but there was nothing else. The doors were locked with no sign of forced entry. The other car was older with nothing more than a bag of Doritos in the back seat. “Fucking hoods.”

“Thanks for all your calls and dedications this evening. Let me leave you with this… it’s one of my favorite songs. I love the rhythm. It just makes me want to take my clothes off. And who needs clothes on a night like this?” Angel’s sultry voice lilted out of his car window as he approached. “This is Angel After Dark on KKIS FM. Love and peace.” Her suggestive words were underscored by the beginning of the Maroon 5’s Secret, its pulse tangible, and despite his current state of concern, his body stirred at her sultry suggestion and he smiled softly to himself, leaning back against the car.

Surely she knows I’m listening.

As he waited, doubt clouded his thoughts like a heavy fog, rolling everything he knew to be true into obscurity. He’d called her on Wednesday, but due to the time difference, it was in the middle of the night for her and she hadn’t returned his call.