Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno 4)

Julia was seated on the couch in the living room, holding a sleeping baby. She hadn’t wanted Clare out of her sight.

The Cambridge police were combing the house and the backyard. Gabriel was pacing nearby, having been checked and cleared by the paramedics. He’d been on his phone for the past hour.

Julia buried her face against Clare’s hair. She’d thought Gabriel was having a heart attack. He’d been pale and short of breath when she found him in the hallway. The color had returned to his face and now he was pacing like a caged lion, angry and frustrated. As if he’d roar at any moment.

Julia whispered a prayer of thanks that she still had a family and hugged Clare more tightly. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there before a pair of bare feet stood in front of her. (Parenthetically, it should be noted that even Gabriel’s feet were attractive.)

He hadn’t bothered to put on shoes and he was still wearing a pair of tartan flannel pajamas. He crouched next to her and placed a gentle hand on her neck. “Darling?”

He pushed her hair back from her face. “The company that installed the security system is sending someone immediately. According to them, the system is still armed. The intruder must have bypassed the alarm.”

“How is that possible?”

Gabriel’s face grew grim. “I don’t know.”

Julia rocked the baby, back and forth. “He didn’t take any jewelry. He didn’t even open the box.”

“Cash, passports, electronics, artwork—everything is still here. The police are dusting for fingerprints.”

“He was wearing gloves.”

Gabriel froze. “Did he touch you?”

“No,” Julia whispered. “When I woke up, I saw him holding the Holiday painting. I saw the gloves.”

“When I went upstairs, the painting was on the floor. The glass shattered.”

“He dropped it when I screamed.”

“But you’re all right?” Gabriel croaked. He reached a hand out to caress Clare’s head. “Clare is all right?”

“I don’t think he went into the nursery. The door was still closed and I hadn’t heard anything on the baby monitor.”

Gabriel passed a hand over his mouth. Things could have ended very, very differently.

“I’m sorry about the painting.”

Gabriel squeezed her knee. “Better the painting than you!”

Julia took his hand and tugged him to sit next to her. She leaned into his side, shaking.

He wrapped both arms around her shoulders. “You’re going to be fine. You’re going to be fine and Clare is going to be fine.”

“I thought he’d taken her.” A tear streaked down Julia’s face. “I thought you’d had a heart attack.”

“I was just winded. But I could use a shot of Laphroaig right now.”

“Me, too.”

“I’ll get you one.” He spoke against her skin.

“I don’t think nursing mothers are supposed to drink Laphroaig. But if I weren’t nursing, hell yeah I’d be drinking your campfire Scotch.”

It was not appropriate to laugh and Gabriel knew it. He held her close and restrained his laughter. “I don’t have any Laphroaig. But if you want a drink, I’ll get you one.”

“Maybe later.” The baby stirred against Julia’s shoulder.

“Do you want me to take her? She must be getting heavy.”