CHAPTER 14

Paul had always considered himself a bit of a morning person, so he thought it was vaguely ironic that now he was spending most of his waking hours at the other end of the day. Of course he hadn’t had any real reason to be out late at O’Reilly’s, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He kept reminding himself that Monica was no longer his responsibility, but knowing that she was so close and in such a stressful situation was more than enough to make him start polishing his armor. Tonight his watchfulness had paid off.

He yawned as the elevator slowed to a halt on the fifth floor and fumbled in his pocket for the keycard. He hated those things. Real keys rattled and jingled and made their presence known. They didn’t hide themselves between the American Express card and the driver’s license. The hallway was empty so no one saw him drop all three cards to the floor and give a muffled curse under his breath before retrieving them. Bed was looking better and better all the time.

The card reader flashed green and the door unlocked with an audible click. Paul felt his exhaustion growing in direct correlation to his distance from the bedroom, and he turned the handle and walked in. Tossing card, and wallet to the table by the door and shrugging out of his jacket, he gave another yawn, all without even turning on the light. He hit the light switch just as he was stepping into the bathroom, and suddenly all feelings of fatigue vanished.

There were papers scattered all over the room. His bed had been torn apart. The lamps on the nightstands were tipped over, their light casting strange shadows on the walls and ceiling. His luggage was ransacked and even the little coffeemaker was lying broken on the floor.

“That son of a…” Paul’s first thoughts were of David and he pulled out his cell phone, ready to call hotel security and the police.

He stepped gingerly over to the bed, not wanting to disturb the scene too much. If he got the police involved, they would want to take pictures and prints and catalog what was missing. Narrowing his eyes, he looked around the room again, adrenaline kicking up another notch when he saw what he was looking for. His gold and silver watch was still on the dresser, right next to the television remote control. David wasn’t the one who had tossed the room. Even in a drunken stupor he would have taken the valuable watch.

Paul tucked his phone back into his pocket. He suddenly had no one to call. He knelt down and started sweeping together the scattered files. It was going to take hours to put things back in their correct folders. He was grateful that at least they were just copies. He was going to have to remember to send Janice flowers, down in records. She was the one who had refused to let him walk out with the originals and had made the copies herself to keep him from pestering her.

What had started out looking like random destruction now had sinister undertones. Paul was quick to notice that every page he had marked with a colored tag was missing. He reached under the bed to retrieve his notebook. It was practically shredded but he flipped through it anyway, the muscle in his jaw tightening when he saw that his notes had been ripped out and taken. One of those pages had contained his list of possible suspects, and now one of those suspects had it. A deep dread settled in his chest. He had been working to prove that there was an inside man at the bureau but a tiny part of himself had wanted to be wrong.

“How’s your wrist feeling?” They were the first words spoken since starting the walk back to the apartment.

Monica looked down and saw that the redness was nearly gone, replaced with the very faint blue of a forming bruise. She sighed and looked up again, concentrating on the flickering streetlamp up ahead. It looked like the bulb was just about to blow out.

“Monica?”

“It hurts,” she said truthfully. There was no sense in hiding the facts. She had seen him watching her for the last hour of her shift, and knew that he had probably made note of every time she avoided using it.

“We can put some more ice on it before you go to bed.”

“It’s nothing. I’ll get used to it.”

“Angel, you shouldn’t have to get used to being in pain.”

She looked up at him and he couldn’t miss the slight look of accusation in her eyes. It dared him to prove that his words were true. If they were, then why was she constantly under attack? God was testing her. She accepted that. It was about time that Andrew accepted it as well.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think it’s time I toughened up, don’t you?”

Andrew frowned. “No, I don’t.”

She let out another sigh and faced forward, barely curling her fingers around Andrew’s when he picked up her hand. “Remember when I told you that I think I need to be able to handle things on my own?”

“Yes, and I told you that you’re never alone and you don’t need to think that you are.”

“Well I wish I had been able to handle tonight without Paul. I wish that I had been able to make David stop hurting me and listen. I wish that he had been afraid of me instead of the other way around.” There was an unmistakable tone of anger in her voice, made all the more noticeable to Andrew because he had heard it so recently in his own.

“But that’s not who you are, Monica.”

“Maybe it’s who I should be. God doesn’t want weak angels, Andrew. Maybe this is His way of making me stand up for myself,” she said harshly.

“There’s a big difference between standing up for yourself and God and making people afraid of you. Moving from mistrust of humans to anger at them isn’t right. It isn’t what God wants, and it isn’t what you want.”

“I talk to Him every night,” she said, her voice quieter. “I ask Him for advice. I ask Him to tell me what to do. I always feel Him with me. I feel how much He loves me, but He never answers. I have all these questions and no one, not even the Father, will tell me the answers.”

Andrew let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders instead. He felt the slight tremor go through her but kept walking. If he stopped and looked in her eyes he would just pull her close and promise to protect her from the world, but that wasn’t what he needed to say.

“Telling you what to do isn’t something that God has ever done. He trusts you so much, Monica. He knows that you can find the answers for yourself. I think that’s what you’re here for. You’ve been through so much, and I wish I could take it away from you… or answer all your questions, but I’m still asking them myself. The answers will come. You just have to be patient. We both do.”

“I’ve been patient,” She stated, the anger back in her voice once more, “I’ve been more than patient. I’ve approached my assignment over and over again though he has made it crystal clear that he wants nothing to do with me. So when am I going to have answers and will it be before or after David tries to kill me?”

“Monica-.”

“It’s how I feel, Andrew. Every time I try to talk to him he gets a little more violent. How much more violent will he get before he sees the truth and I understand why all this is happening to me?”

Her question left him speechless as he had no idea what the answer was and the implications about David’s violent tendencies did little to halt the anger in his heart. David was her assignment and he had told her not to give up on speaking God’s truth, but after what Paul had told him had occurred tonight, he felt nearly sick at the thought of her trying to talk to him again. There was no telling what the human would have done to the little angel had he succeeded in getting her outside tonight and Andrew’s imagination ran wild over the possibilities. He was beginning to dislike her assignment more and more.

As his mind still searched for an answer, he felt Monica stop walking and as he turned to her, she shrank back slightly as his eyes followed her gaze. He watched with distain as David stumbled out of the bar across the street from where they were standing, heading back in the general direction of O’Reilly’s.

Monica supposed that she shouldn’t really be surprised that the human had not taken Paul’s “advice” to go home to his wife, though a small part of her felt disappointed that he was still out drinking. She watched him staggering down the street, torn as to whether or not she should try to approach him once more, but Andrew settled that decision for her.

“No, angel, not tonight.” He shook his head firmly. Despite her anger, he had seen the look of fear that had filled her eyes at seeing David and he was not about to allow her to set herself up again tonight to be hurt, “You have the night off from the pub tomorrow, so take a day to relax and recuperate and maybe things will be brighter the next time you try to talk to him,” He knew he was saying those words for her benefit and not because he believed them, but it was too important to him right now that she take a little time for herself.

They completed the walk in silence and it was only once they had entered the apartment building that Monica spoke up once more, “You don’t have to walk me up…”

“I know that I don’t have to, but I’d prefer to if that is all right with you,” He replied gently, relieved when she nodded her head.

Even Monica had to admit to herself that the narrow stairwell wasn’t nearly as worrysome with Andrew behind her and it was nice to emerge onto the third floor with her heart still beating at a normal rate, though it only took a moment for it to suddenly feel as if it were beating in her ears once more.

The door to her apartment was cracked open and she came to a dead halt as despite all her aggitation earlier, she felt tears burning in her eyes as she simply starred at it.

“Stay here.” Andrew ordered, quickly moving around her and approaching the apartment door. He opened it wider and glanced inside, fury building up in him once more over the state that her apartment was in at the moment and he was unsure judging by the mess if someone had been looking for something specific or only for revenge. It didn’t take him long to determine that the apartment was now empty and his heart ached when he turned around and found Monica standing there. Her expression spoke volumes.

She felt completely defeated and victimized, unsure of whether to burst into tears or to run as far away from here as she could possibly get. Instead, one word escaped her mouth, “Lucy.”

“I’m sure she is here, angel,” He uttered, his own heart racing as he knew if anything had happened to the kitten it would put her completely over the edge, “We’ll find her.”

Wordlessly, Monica began to search through tear-filled eyes as she bordered on frantic, sure that with every door or cupboard she opened, she would find the kitten dead, just like the mama cat in the barn, “She’s not here, Andrew! She’s not here!”

He could see the hysteria rising within her as he helped her search and a moment later, the pitiful kitten cry sent relief flowing through him like water bursting from a dam. Monica obviously heard it to as she raced to the closet and flung open the door, collecting the frightened little cat into her arms.

It was only after she had buried her face in Lucy’s soft fur and took several deep breaths that she was able to survey the damage to her temporary home. Cushions had been removed from the sofa and chairs and cupboards and closets had been searched through. The little desk in the living room had been completely torn apart and papers lay scattered all over the floor. The scene was completely overwhelming as it was and the fact that it was nearly 3:00 in the morning wasn’t helping her coping mechanisms much.

She was snapped out of her reverie by the sight of Andrew picking up the telephone, his expression set in grave determination, which quickly turned to shock as Monica took the phone from his hand and replaced it in the cradle.

“You can’t call the police,” She whispered shakily.

“Watch me,” He replied angrily, but something in her expression stopped him.

“He can’t go to jail, Andrew. I can’t help him from there,” The tears shimmered in her eyes, telling him how much she wanted to not even try to help David anymore, but her words spoke of feeling cornered into having no choice in the matter.

She turned away and gently dropped Lucy to the floor as she began picking up papers with trembling hands and her friend’s heart broke at the silent tears that were escaping her eyes.

“Sweetheart, leave it for tonight, please?” He asked soflty, but she shook her head as she continued on her mission.

Resigned to the fact that sleep would not be coming soon for either of them, he nodded his head as he headed into the kitchen to put it back to rights, though it took everything in him to keep from slamming shut the cupboard doors. Like McArthur, David had gone too far this time and the angel had no idea how to help Monica at this point. She seemed caught up in a world that she had no desire to live in, yet she knew of no way out as her mind was holding her hostage.

Had he done this? Had his talk with her in the diner the other night convinced her that no matter what David might do to her that she had to continue; that she had to risk her well being to continue trying to talk to him? He hadn’t wanted her to give up, afraid of how it would affect her if she did, but now to continue seemed ten times worse and completely unsafe. Yes, she was an angel, but David was hurting her, in words and actions, and he had no idea how to abide by that and he certainly didn’t want to see her try.

In the other room, Monica continued to pick up the loose papers that had been torn from the desk, collecting them in her injured hand. Each time she picked one up, she caught sight of the bruise that was forming and her vision would blur once more, the color of the forming bruise looking as black as her heart felt.

Had she only been able to stand up to David without Paul having to interfere, this could have been avoided, of that much she was sure. But she had been too weak and too afraid to fight him off in words or actions and this was simply the consequence she was paying for her weakness. She was sure that was true and she didn’t think anything could convince her otherwise.

Rising to her feet, she wiped her hand across her eyes as she moved to return the pictures to the desk, but she froze once more as her eyes came to rest on a picture that hadn’t been in or on the desk before tonight. Her hand trembled as she picked it up, feeling as if she were looking into some kind of mirror.

The young woman’s face smiled back at her, but the resemblence to herself was almost eerie. Though the picture was black and white and there were definate differences between her and the image that had been captured on film, Monica was sure if she were human that this woman could have easily passed as a relative, but who was she?

Turning the picture over slowly, she blinked to clear her eyes of tears as she read the name on the back of the photograph.

Lauren Sherman.

Paul had called her Lauren. She felt the name resonate in her soul, as if she should remember it from somewhere else as well. She flipped it over again, dark eyes peering into the eternally smiling face, slender fingers touching soft looking hair. Where had it come from? Had it been in the desk? She looked to the floor for answers, wondering if there would be some letter or card that told her who Lauren was. Was she supposed to help her?

“What do you have there?” Andrew asked as he walked out of the kitchen. Luckily the destruction in there had been limited to open cupboards and scattered pots rather than shattered china.

Monica held the photo towards him. “I found this on the floor. It says her name is Lauren, but I don’t know who she is.”

The instant he heard that name he felt a chill push goose-bumps out along his arms. He took the picture, already knowing what he would see. Paul had never showed him a picture, but he had told him that Lauren looked like Monica. He had been telling the truth.

“Do you know her, Andrew?” She had picked up on his expression and it was anything but neutral.

He turned the photo over a few times before answering. He was stalling for time and if the situation hadn’t been so grave it would have been almost amusing to see him searching for his words.

“Is she someone you took Home?” she asked gently.

“No,” he said at last. “Lauren is someone Paul knew.”

“Paul?”

“He protected her… she was in the Witness Protection program, like you.”

Monica knew the answer to her next question, but she asked it anyway. “She was killed, wasn’t she?”

Andrew set the picture aside and looked straight into Monica’s tear clouded eyes. “Yes she was.”

“And he was in love with her.”

That question startled him, but only a little bit. She had always been extremely perceptive. “They were engaged.”

Monica let go of her tears as she collapsed onto the sofa. “Paul’s dedicated his whole life to protecting people and he couldn’t save the one person who was most important to him… and now her picture shows up here. It was David, wasn’t it? He’s the one who killed her and now he’s furious with me.”

Andrew was quick to wrap his arms around her and pull her head to his chest. “Monica, we don’t know anything about that. It could have been here all along.”

His eyes flickered briefly towards the picture again. He honestly didn’t know what to think. Was David somehow involved? What other possibility was there? He needed to talk to Paul, and he hoped that morning would be soon enough because he wasn’t planning on leaving Monica’s side for what remained of the night.

“Father,” Andrew could hear the little angel whispering. “I’m not asking for answers this time. Please… just give me the strength to face whatever you have planned.”

“He will.”

“In my head I know that, but I’m waiting for my heart to catch up,” she murmured. “We should talk to Paul,” she continued, echoing his thoughts.

“Not tonight, Angel. It’s late. There’s nothing he could do right now.”

She tilted her head up and watched the light glint off his green eyes. They normally held such assurance and certainty, but tonight they wavered between doubt and anger and the change left her feeling unsettled.

“I don’t want to stay here… not tonight,” she said with a forcefulness that surprised even her.

Andrew looked around the apartment and couldn’t blame her. It was still in a complete disarray and just the knowledge that someone had done it on purpose left a sick feeling in his stomach.

“We’ll go down to my place,” he said as he stood up and offered her his hand. “Grab Lucy and we’ll head down right now. There’s still a chance for you to get a few hours of sleep tonight.”

Monica noticed that he said ‘you’ and not ‘us’, but she didn’t mention it. She had a feeling that Andrew would be keeping watch over her as usual. His certain presence was the one thing that kept her from fleeing altogether. Lucy had settled next to Monica on the sofa, and the angel scooped her up and wordlessly gave another look around the living room before following Andrew to the door.
“My place isn’t quite as luxurious as yours,” Andrew joked as he unlocked the door to his apartment.

Monica gave him a tiny poke in the ribs and a grin as she passed through the door and looked around. It was definitely smaller than hers but it was comfortable and, most importantly, untouched by violence. She set Lucy down and watched as the kitten raced around, inspecting each corner in turn.

“I think she approves,” Andrew chuckled. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

“You’re coming too, aren’t you?” she asked, eyes wide.

“The bed isn’t quite as big as yours,” he answered with a little smile. “I was going to stay out here on the sofa.”

“I don’t care how big it is,” she insisted. “I… I…” she wanted to say that she needed him, but after the angry words she had spoken in the street she was almost afraid to admit that.

Their connection was strong enough that he didn’t need to hear the words. “You go change into one of my shirts… it should come down to your knees,” he said, his smile never wavering. “I’ll be in as soon as you call me.”

He watched as she nodded her head and disappeared into his bedroom and a few minutes later he heard her soft call that he could come in and join her. She was sitting up in his bed, looking a bit forlorn as she moved as far to one end of the bed as she could in order to make room for him. Sitting down with his back against the pillows, she went through the now familiar motion of curling into his arms as he held her up against his chest.

“Thank you,” Monica whispered, as she snuggled closer and closed her dark eyes in complete exhaustion.

As she drifted off to sleep, Andrew’s fingers traced the bruise on her wrist, wishing he had remembered to bring in some ice for it. He couldn’t help but to be reminded that this bruise was very comparable to the one that was on her spirit at the moment and as he watched her sleep, he still could not imagine how anyone could want to hurt her. The thought was foreign to him as even when he was frustrated with her rapidly changing emotions, he always chose his words carefully as to not as so much hurt her feelings and he knew that this was not just because he was partial. The little angel had touched Paul’s life quickly as well as the lives of numerous other assignments as she had endeared herself to them and now she had been faced with several people who only wanted to hurt her and cause her fear, contradicting all she had ever known. He hated it.

“Please bring her peace, Father,” He whispered aloud, knowing his words would not disturb the sleeping angel as fatigue had won out even against fear and anger, “Whatever you are trying to teach her, let her find some peace in all of it as I’m afraid for her.” The violence had been coming at her from all directions and she wasn’t even having enough time to take in one thing before something else happened and he was sorely worried that his words were carrying far too much weight with her. Though her stubbornness about wanting to continue trying to reach David in any other situation would not be out of the norm for her, he could clearly see that what she really wanted to do was to run as far away as possible from all of this and cocoon herself up somewhere until she felt like the world was a safer place.

And though a part of him longed for her to do just that, he also knew he had to do everything in his power to keep that from happening.
A knock on the door late the next morning, disrupted the two angels from trying to put Monica’s apartment back to rights, as Andrew moved to answer it and got no argument from his friend. Despite the fact that she had slept soundly through what had been left of the night, she had awoken early and so there was still an aura of weariness about her as she sadly swept the remains of a few knick knacks into the dust pan. She hadn’t said much all morning and had seemed to withdraw a little further as she had watched Andrew change the lock and install the deadbolt to her door that he had meant to do for her days ago.

As Andrew opened the front door, Paul’s eyes immediately swept across the room as his jaw set in anger. The angel had said very little over the phone, only that he needed to come to Monica’s apartment as soon as he had been able to and even with the cleaning that was still in progress, it was obvious that he was not the only one who had been paid a late night visit.

“What the hell happened?”

The gruffness of his voice caused the Irish angel to start slightly as she turned frightened doe eyes towards him and he immediately changed his tone, “I’m sorry, honey,” His regret was unmistakable as he met his eyes with hers, “Are you all right?”

Monica started to nod her head, and then she shrugged her shoulders, pushing back the tears that were threatening her eyes. Wordlessly, she approached the agent who had become her friend and was caught up in his arms as Paul hugged her tightly.

Andrew felt tears burning in his own eyes as he watched them, feeling ridiculous for having ever felt jealous of Paul’s affection for Monica. She looked at him as a friend now, and also as a friend who dealt with this kind of thing all the time and the older angel could not begrudge her anything or anyone who made her feel a little bit safer.

“I’m sorry about Lauren,” Monica whispered as Paul finally released her and he could see that her tears were not so much for herself as for him.

He looked slightly confused as to how Lauren was suddenly a factor for her, despite how deeply touched he was by her words and the compassion she was feeling for his loss. He looked up as Andrew handed him a picture and he felt the familiar stab of pain in his heart at the sight of her face.

“Monica found it here last night when we were starting to clean up the mess that someone made of her apartment.”

Paul nodded his head as he pushed aside the wave of grief he was feeling and replaced it with anger over Monica now being involved with the problems he was having with the agency, “You think it was David?”

“He must have been angry about what happened last night,” The little angel replied sadly.

The agent sat down on the sofa, picture still in hand as he struggled to understand all that had happened last night. He had been certain that one of his suspects from the FBI had been the one to break into his hotel room, but now with Monica’s apartment having been ransacked as well, he was trying to decide how David could possibly fit into the picture he had worked so hard to paint, “My hotel room was broken into last night as well,” He confessed, watching as Andrew’s expression tightened and Monica’s eyes widened, “I had assumed it was someone from the agency who had figured out what I was working on, but now with the same thing having happened to you, it appears I now have more than one option. Either David is involved or whoever it is that now knows about my freelance investigation knows that I had been here as well.” He sighed heavily, knowing and voicing the one thing he knew for certain, “Either way, I cannot be more sorry about your involvement, Monica.”

“It isn’t your fault,” She replied firmly, sitting down next to him and exchanging a glance with Andrew to make sure he was in agreement. Seeing him nodding his head, she turned back to Paul, “I suppose that our paths were just supposed to cross once more and if that is the case, I am in no way sorry.”

A grin tugged at his lips, “Neither am I, to be honest. I kind of enjoyed having you both around,” He held out his hand to her, “Let’s see the wrist.” Taking her offered hand, he frowned at the deep bruise that her assignment had inflicted upon her last night and his frown deepened at the thought of her coming back here to a break in almost immediately afterwards, “How about I help you two finish cleaning up and then we see about a new lock for your door.”

She smiled, looking up at her best friend once more, “Andrew has already seen to the lock as well as a deadbolt, but if you want to help, it would be greatly appreciated. I can even fix lunch if you’re hungry.”

“Hmm, not ordering room service and eating alone?” He mused with a wink, “I think you may have a deal.”