Christmas at Timberwoods - Fern Michaels [62]
Angela’s expression stayed blank as she stared at first one man, then the other. If she talked, she could walk out of this house—but it didn’t really make any difference; they wouldn’t be able to do anything. “What do you want to know?”
She heard the audible sigh of relief from one of the men. So, they were worried.
Noel questioned Angela for over two hours, making notes on a small pad he held on his knees. Not once, by voice or look, did he show belief or disbelief. Harold shifted position from time to time while Eric just sat, his face stony and hard.
“That’s all there is to tell,” Angela said finally. She had consciously omitted any mention of Charlie. They didn’t ask and she didn’t say anything. Charlie cared about her, she knew he did, and she didn’t want anyone to spoil it by telling him she was a weirdo. She wanted to keep the barely begun relationship going with him—she couldn’t just let go. It was as though she was connected to him somehow, and she needed that connection. “You can’t do anything about Timberwoods Mall. Nobody can do anything. Why are you trying?”
“If nobody can do anything, why did you go to the mall and speak to Ms. Andrews? Why did you tell her the story?” Noel asked in return.
“I don’t know exactly why. I just felt I had to tell someone. I suppose I thought that if I told someone it wouldn’t be so bad. If I didn’t, all those people . . . well, what happened would be partly my fault.”
“What would you say if I told you we could close the mall during Christmas week and there wouldn’t be anyone there to get hurt?”
“You won’t be able to close the mall,” Angela said flatly. “You can’t change what I saw. What I see happens, just like the plane and the little—” Angela stopped, trying to gulp back her words.
“What plane?” Noel demanded.
Angela flushed. “Nothing.”
“Tell me, Angela,” Noel said firmly.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I told you, it’s nothing. Leave me alone. You said that when I told you everything I could go. Well, I’ve told you and now I want to leave,” she said. She got to her feet.
“Wait a minute, Angela. The deal was that you were to tell me everything. You said you would. Now, what about the plane?”
“The plane had nothing to do with the mall,” Angela said, her face drained of color.
“Please,” Noel said firmly. “Up to now you’ve cooperated beautifully. Why leave anything out? Whatever it is, it might help us. Let us be the judges.”
“If I tell you, then can I leave?”
“You have my word, and I don’t give my word lightly,” Noel said, leaning across the coffee table, his face earnest.
Angela licked her dry lips and looked from one man to the other. “All right, but you aren’t going to like it. I woke up, just before I went to Timberwoods, right before the cop picked me up. I saw the light, just like the other times. I screamed and wouldn’t open my eyes, but somehow my eyes opened and there it was. I don’t want to tell you,” she said, getting up suddenly. “I changed my mind. I want to leave now.” Her features were rigid with fear. She could feel herself shaking. The tremors reached her fingers, her toes.
“You have to tell me, Angela,” Noel said quietly. “Sit down and take a deep breath and let it all out. Don’t you feel better when you tell someone? Of course you do,” he answered for her. “When you talk about it, it doesn’t seem so bad. I want to know, Angela. I have to know so I can help you.”
“You can’t do anything about this, either, so why do I have to tell you?”
“We don’t know for sure that we can’t do anything. All we can do is try. Isn’t trying better than nothing?”
“Okay, okay. There was this plane . . . It was little, not