CHAPTER 1

Paul Gatlin frowned as he laid the telephone back in the cradle, refusing to leave yet another message. He had been trying for nearly a week to arrange a meeting with his friend and superior, Mike Deatrich, but his messages had thus far gone unanswered much to his chagrin. Sighing softly, he gazed down at the notes he had scribbled earlier on a piece of paper, knowing that they would make little sense to anyone else as they leaned more towards senseless ramblings as he had struggled to understand what had indeed occurred on his last assignment.

Though things in the case of Douglas McArthur had been resolved in the end, there were still things that didn’t sit well with the FBI agent. He has been protecting a witness, but not just any witness; a witness he had fallen in love with and a witness he had more recently found out was an angel as well as was his former partner. To say it had been a shock would have been an understatement, and a part of him was still trying to come to terms with it though a small part of him still felt as if Andrew’s revelation to him had the impact of being side swiped by a small truck. He was still struggling with his feelings for the Irish angel, not quite able to resolve them of yet and he was loath to admit that he found himself missing her terribly. Even now that he was back at his farm, the place seemed empty and quiet without the sound of her laughter, her voice or even her smile.

He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of his thoughts, knowing that they surely were being looked upon as impure given her angelic status, and he glanced once again at the paper before him. McArthur had found them much too easily and not just once, but three times, and those facts alone indicated a leak in department security. When signs of McArthur had shown up at the safe house and he and Andrew had moved Monica to the ranch on the other side of the country, they had changed all security, and still the murderer had shown up within days. Though Mike had promised him a meeting, his friend had yet to secure a time and place and though Paul knew he had to be inundated with work, he was still a bit surprised that Mike had yet to return his call.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft mew, as Sam leapt up onto the desk, clearly demanding attention and the agent smiled as he stroked the kitten that he still referred to as Monica’s. In his mind, he was simply looking after Sam and his three siblings for the angel for as long as that may be, though he had to admit he was constantly amused by their antics and they were rather good company. He had briefly wondered why he hadn’t noticed them as much before, but he surmised that was because his attention had been much more focused on their foster mother and keeping her safe.

“You cannot possibly be hungry,” He mused to the kitten as Sam sat down on the desk to peer up at him through green eyes as he let out a pitiful mew, “Missing your mama, huh?” He asked, his thought returning once again to the angel as he wondered how she was coping after her ordeal, “I understand, buddy. I miss her

too.”

The solitary figure wandered aimlessly down the dock to the lake, trying to allow the sounds of the crickets to soothe her soul, but not even their music seemed to be able to bring any peace to her heart. This was the second night in a row that sleep had escaped her even as she was struggling to escape all that had happened over the last few weeks. Andrew had left on assignment two days ago and Tess had been in and out between working and checking up on her, and the little angel hated to admit that being alone was no longer something she enjoyed, even for small periods of time. She knew that God was always with her and while that did bring her comfort, she longed for the physical comfort of her friends and the reassurances that she was safe and that there was still goodness in a world that she had come to fear.

The nightmare of the past weeks had metamorphosed into nightmares that invaded her sleep as images of McArthur, holding a gun to her head, his hot breath against her cheek, and his eyes, the eyes devoid of all emotion played over and over again in her dreams. His eyes haunted her, both in and out of sleep, and nothing could shake the image of them from her mind. Even standing out here, with no other houses in sight, the angel felt afraid, as if something or someone would suddenly spring forth from the woods, intent upon doing her harm and no amount of trying to tell herself that those fears were unwarranted seemed to help. They still existed, just as evil did, and nothing could change that fact.

Monica rubbed her eyes wearily as she drew in a trembling breath, fighting tears of exhaustion and frustration as she offered up a quiet prayer, “Please, Father.”

Unseen by the little angel, Andrew appeared up the hill from where she stood, overlooking the lake. He had hurried back as quickly as he could, hating the fact that he had to leave her at all, even for a day or so. The days following McArthur’s death had left her quiet and on some level, withdrawn. Her smile was not as quick in coming anymore and her eyes had been holding a combination of fear and grief, each seeming to struggle for dominance of her emotions and his heart had nearly broken when he had been called away when she was so vulnerable.

He knew he had his own demons to deal with about what had happened and his realizations about himself, but he had managed to keep those at bay, pushing them aside constantly, only wanting to help his dearest friend in whatever way he could. Her pain was his pain, and even while on assignment he could sense the conflicting emotions and the nightmares that were overcoming her as he had longed to be back at her side.

Her arms were wrapped around her small body and he knew that yet another bad dream had driven her from her bed. The night air was slightly chilly and he slipped out of his jacket as he walked towards her, his footsteps silent as he approached. He purposefully stepped on a creaky board in the dock, wanting to make sure that she knew he was there so that he wouldn’t startle her.

“I felt you even when you were up on the hill,” she said quietly when he stepped up behind her.

He smiled briefly, loving the fact that they were so connected with one another, but hating the lost tone in her voice. “Here,” he said as he draped his jacket over her shoulders. “You shouldn’t be out without a robe or something. You’re practically shivering.”

She looked up gratefully. “Thank you. I guess I wasn’t thinking.” He still hadn’t wrapped his arms around her like he usually did, and she longed for that feeling, but she turned and looked back at the lake.

She didn’t want to ask him. She didn’t want to take any more from him than she already had. She knew how difficult it had been for him to leave on assignment, and the last thing he needed was to think that she couldn’t handle things without him by her side. Unfortunately that was very nearly how she felt.

“How did your assignment go?” she said instead.

“It went just fine,” he answered, “but I wished you were with me the whole time.” He reached out a tentative hand but quickly withdrew it. She was standing so straight and so still that he was afraid to touch her. It looked like she was expending all of her energy to hold herself together and he hated it.

“I… I’m not sure when I’ll be ready for that,” she said, looking down and studying her clasped hands.

The look on her face completely did him in, and he wasted no more time in pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. She let out a sigh of relief as she nestled against his chest and he stroked his fingers through her hair and rested his chin.

“You’ll know when you’re ready,” he told her, “and so will the Father. You’re doing really well already. Just hang in there.”

“I wish I could just forget… forget any of it ever happened,” she murmured. “Sometimes I feel like he’s still out there… just waiting for me.”

“But he’s not, angel,” he reassured her. “He’s gone and you’re still here. Nothing can change that… not your nightmares, and not your bad feelings.” He held her a little tighter. “I just wish I could be here all the time to keep reminding you of that.”

“No,” she replied, “you have work to do, and you can’t be with me every second.” She gave a dry laugh, “Anyway you already did that for days on end… I would think you’d be glad for the break.”

“Nope. You’ll be surprised to know that I never require breaks from you,” he said, smiling. As a matter of fact he had to admit that he far preferred helping her than dealing with his own issues, He knew it wasn’t right, but that was how he felt.

“How long can you stay?” she asked, trying to keep the hopefulness from her voice. Tess had left early the previous morning and she really didn’t want to spend another day alone.

“I’m not sure, but I think I’m free for the next day anyway,” he could sense her relief and once again felt the twinges of anger run through him. “So, why don’t we get you back to bed so that you’ll be well rested? We can spend the day doing something fun… whatever you want.”

She smiled and took a step back, still keeping hold of his hand. “That sounds like a good idea. I think I’ll be able to sleep through the rest of the night now that you’re here.” The words escaped before she could stop them, and he saw the look in her eye that clearly said she hadn’t meant to let that out.

“It’s okay, Monica. I’m glad to be here,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.

She still looked a bit ashamed, but they walked back to the house without comment. She knew that he was happy to help her… he showed that to her a million different ways. The problem was that she didn’t want him to think that he had to, and so far she wasn’t doing a very good job of proving that.

She was still struggling with that emotion as she sat down heavily on the edge of her bed and sensing the aura of sadness that surrounded his friend, Andrew took a seat next to her and waited for her to offer more as she stared down at her clasped hands. He could see the exhaustion etched into her delicate features and he so wished he could take it all away from her and restore for himself the vibrant angel she had been before all of this had begun. Maybe that was a purely selfish wish on his part, but he also knew it was something she longed for as well.

“I’m sorry,” She stated finally and simply, though he didn’t miss the tears she was holding back in her dark eyes.

“Angel, what on earth for? You have nothing to be sorry about-.”

“For putting pressure on you to be here for me and for feeling this way in the first place. It’s over and it should feel like it’s over. I’m the one who can’t seem to put it behind me,” She whispered defeatedly, her downward gaze broken by Andrew’s hand cupping her chin and turning her head towards him.

“It’s obvious that you need to hear a few things and I’m very glad that I am here to hopefully set you straight,” He began, a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes on his face, “You are the only one trying to dictate how you should be feeling, Monica. There aren’t any rules here, angel or any set time for you to bounce back from the things that happened. That whole terrible situation would have a shaken a much more callus angel than you are, sweetheart, so cut yourself a break here and give yourself some time. There is no statute of limitations on recovering from something like this.”

Her eyes, glassy with tears, searched his as she voiced her fears, “What if I never recover?”

“You will,” He replied firmly, hoping she would catch some of his optimism, despite the fact that he too was worried about if she would ever again be the same, “And while we are at it, lets get one other thing straight between us as well. You are not putting any pressure on me to be here. I’m here because I want to be and because I love you and want to be able to help you. As much as I love doing the Father’s work, I don’t enjoy being pulled away from you ever and I don’t want you to feel guilty if you feel like you need me. Being with you, regardless of the circumstances is treasured time for me, angel.”

His words touching the depth of her heart, she felt herself giving into the tears, “I do need you, Andrew…I do…”

Folding her into his arms, the older angel held her to himself as she released what he knew was only a fraction of her pent up emotions. Though he hated to see her cry, what he hated even more was the anger that once again surged through him at the reason behind her tears. Though McArthur was dead, Andrew still felt hostility towards the man, and it was further laden with his own guilt over the satisfaction he felt over the death of one of God’s children. McArthur had deeply hurt someone Andrew loved, and dead or alive, the angel had yet to find it in himself to forgive him.

Burying her face in his chest, Monica struggled to slow her tears as she felt the soothing motion of his hand stroking her hair. She didn’t like feeling this way; this sinister feeling of evil being all around her, all the time, yet she couldn’t seem to control it. Even when she had been unable to see McArthur, she had known he was there, a constant torment and all she had done was to see something she wasn’t supposed to see.

She tried to recall the night when it had all first begun; the way she had been on Josh’s porch reveling in the sights, smells and sounds of the warm spring night. She had felt happy and content, at peace and she couldn’t help but to think that had Tommy, the paperboy not come so late that night, she would still be retaining those feelings now. It wasn’t that she blamed Tommy, but the fact that something so simple had changed so much and had sealed her fate for the next several weeks, left her breathless. Had the paper never come, she would have simply gone and moved onto her next assignment and the evil, which she had always known existed, would not have descended upon her personally, leaving her feeling afraid of all the world had to offer.

Finally managing to pull herself together somewhat, she pulled back slightly, but never completely released her hold on her friend, as she felt him swiping at the tears on her cheeks, “Thank you for being here.”

“You’re welcome,” He replied warmly, once again pushing aside his emotions for her benefit, determined to focus only on finding her smile once again, “Come on, you need to sleep, angel,” He waited until she had snuggled under the blankets, noting how the night was warm, but her hands still felt so cold, before he drew the blanket up snugly around her. He could clearly see her gratitude and relief that he was there and leaning down, he planted a tender kiss on her forehead, “Tomorrow is going to be a good day, Angel Girl. I will see to it personally.”

She nodded her head as she scootched over to make room for him and much like the night McArthur had found her at the safe house, he sat up in the bed beside of her as she moved to rest her head against his shoulder, her arm encircling him as her eyes closed in utter exhaustion.

Andrew watched her sleep for a long time as he offered up silent prayers for them both, before he as well, drifted off into a light sleep, determined to wake up quickly if any harm came to the little angel in his arms,

even if it was in the form of a dream.

“Mike, it’s Paul. I’ve been trying to reach you for days now,” The agent somehow managed to keep most of the annoyance from his voice as he finally reached his friend. He had elected to call early that morning, in the hopes of catching Mike before he headed off to countless meetings and Paul’s perserverence had finally paid off.

“I know, buddy, and I’m sorry,” Mike sounded more than slightly apologetic, despite the fact that he seemed rushed, “Things have been hellish around here.”

“Understood, but we really need to talk. We’ve got internal problems somewhere in the agency and we need to get to the bottom of them as quickly as possible. I was seconds away from losing my last witness and that cannot happen again,” Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true as he doubted that an angel would have died even at the hands of a merciless killer, but that was one thing he was not willing to share with his friend.

“Agreed,” Mike replied, the sound of pages turning coming through on the phone, “How about Friday? Say, 9:00 at O'Reilly’s Pub?”

Paul jotted down the information as he affirmed the plans, “That sounds good to me. I want to go over the entire case with you as something went desperately wrong somewhere. I’ve protected witnesses for up to a year or longer before and they have never been found and for Monica to have been found three times in a matter of weeks…it just doesn’t make sense. Not even McArthur has that kind of luck.”

“No, something definitely sounds amiss. Listen, buddy, I need to run, but I’ll see you on Friday. You’ll be flying in, I assume?”

“Thursday night,” Paul confirmed, grateful for another two days of peace and quiet here on the farm before the reality of work would once again set in as he was still trying to digest this last case and the light show that had gone along with it.

“I’ll catch you then.”
As Paul hung up the telephone, he breathed a sigh of relief. Now at least he could center his sights on where in the agency this leak lied, so it could be repaired once and for all.