Justice for Sloane - Reina Torres

by Police

  “I’ve got an update for you.”

  Sloane knew it was good news. Hildie’s voice was better than a lie detector. She couldn’t hide her feelings. It was one of the things that had kind of bonded the two in school. Hildie spoke her mind and Sloane kept everything bundled up inside.

  “How are things going?” Sloane tried to open her eyes. She got them to flutter open a bit but gave up a moment later and kept her head right where it was. “Do you need me to come and help?”

  A soft touch to her shoulder said that Hildie was right there beside her. “We’re good. The girls all had superficial injuries from the crash, but we made follow-up appointments for them to check for additional issues that might pop up. The girls were starved so we called Patty and she sent over more than enough food for them while we contacted their families.”

  Something squeezed tightly around her heart and worry reared its head. “How did that go?”

  A light kiss on her forehead came with a soft laugh. “Careful, you’ll prune up with worry lines.”

  “Hildie-”

  “Goodness! Patience, woman! It went just fine, Sloane. One of the girls has family in Nacogdoches so they’re leaving tonight to come and see her. The other girls are in a hotel room and they have security from the San Antonio Police Department.”

  Sloane tried to nod, but just ended up with a soft groan instead. “And the Foundation-”

  “We’re paying for the food, the rooms, and we’re taking them to one of the Helping Hearts and Hangers locations tomorrow to get them some clothes.”

  Sloane felt a grateful smile stretching across her lips and sighed like she’d just had the last bite of caramel and custard goodness of her favorite flan. “Thanks, Hildie. You’re a godsend.”

  “I’m just so happy you’re okay, sweetie! I couldn’t believe it when Rolando called me this morning. You could have-”

  “Miss King?”

  Oh wow. As far as voices went, she had a thing for deep and thick. Well, other things too, but voices that fit that description? Yes.

  “Are you Sloane King?” Whoever he was, he had a voice like chocolate sauce, warm and delicious.

  “Oh, wow, you have to look at him, Sloane. Goodness!”

  By the breathy tone of Hildie’s voice, Sloane imagined her old friend fanning herself and fluttering her eyelashes.

  Prying her eyes open and lifting her head, Sloane looked in the direction of that amazing voice and concluded that she must be suffering from shock. Or on the other end of the spectrum, she could just be delusional because this man… whoever ‘he’ was, was gorgeous.

  He wasn’t overly tall, but he was built. Even with his utterly basic suit she could see how the fit of the garment told her all she needed to know. He was strong, lithe, and muscled in so many perfect ways. He wore the suit, rather than the other way around, and made it look like Armani with his bearing alone.

  “Miss?” His tone had taken on a quizzical tightness that almost sounded like worry. “Estas bien? Are you okay?”

  She wanted to answer that she was fine, but at the moment her eyes were focused on his mouth. The warm cast of his complexion, mixed with the narrow set of his lips, even the close trimmed mustache and partial beard that framed his mouth had her thinking something completely out of character for a first meeting.

  I wonder… she almost smiled… if he kisses closed mouth or open?

  “I’m sorry, sir.” She managed to sit a little straighter like her teacher had instructed her in her charm school class. “I’ve had a really crazy morning. I’m not at my best.” She gestured toward Hildie. “If you need something, Hildie should be able to help you.”

  It shouldn’t matter to her how excited Hildie seemed to hear that declaration.

  But it did.

  And it shouldn’t have meant anything when he shook his head and turned back to look at her.

  But it did.

  “I came here for you, Miss King.”

  Oh wow.

  All kinds of long-dormant nerve endings flared to life and even as she sat there in the cool air-conditioning of the hospital hallway, she felt like she was starting to burn.

  “Well, that’s something you don’t hear every day.” Sloane started to move forward on the chair to stand, and Hildie was there at her side, holding onto her good arm.

  “You should sit, Sweetie. Your color’s a little off.”

  Sloane brushed off her concern but used Hildie’s hand to stand rather than stay on the chair. “I’m just in a bit of pain. As soon as they get to me, give me a new bandage, and hopefully a painkiller, I’ll be right as rain.”

  He stepped up beside her and parted the halves of her sleeve to examine her arm before she could stop him. “You’re still waiting to be seen?”

  She nodded, looking away from the bandage. “It’s been a zoo around here. I’m sure they’ll get around to me.”

  The words she heard mumbled under his breath made her blush, but the way he gently set her back on the chair, carefully avoiding her arm, made her feel a warm tingle wherever he touched her.

  “Stay right here.”

  He strode away and went straight to one of the nurses at the hub, catching her attention and holding it easily. Sloane smiled at the way the nurse’s cheeks pinked. She didn’t blame her, the man had a presence and confidence rolled off him like heat off the concrete in the Texas summer.

  Nodding, the nurse turned and found Sloane’s eyes as she hurried over in her direction with her dark-suited mystery man close behind.

  “Sorry, Miss King,” the nurse’s voice was a little breathy, “we’ll get you seen right away. Why don’t you come with me?” The nurse helped Sloane into a private examination room. “Just sit right here and I’ll have one of the doctors see you right away.”

  “Thank you,” she looked at the nurse’s name tag, “Amy. That’s very sweet of you.”

  The nurse slid a glance and looked at the handsome man standing just inside the door. “Sure, anything for you, Miss King. I’ll be on duty for another hour, so if you need anything,” she managed to drag her gaze back to Sloane, “just ask for me.”

  Sloane swallowed her laughter and a little bit of something bitter off the back of her tongue. “Thanks again.”

  The nurse left, and on her heels, a doctor entered the room. He was tall, lean, and had a handsome smile on his face.

  “Well look at this turn of events, Miss King.”

  Sloane rolled her eyes. “Doctor Clarke. What’s with the grin on your face? Didn’t your mama tell you that an injured woman isn’t something to laugh about?”

  “My apologies.” He chuckled and looked at the clipboard in his hand. “But I beg to differ. My mama would indeed have my head if I was laughing, but I’m merely thanking my lucky stars that I’m the one that caught your case. I’ve been trying to get you to stop for more than a few minutes and maybe-”

  Hildie made a little sound in her throat that sounded like a strangled squeal.

  “Have a chance to ask you to dinner sometime.”

  “You were brought in here to look at her arm.”

  Sloane and Doctor Clarke turned to look at the man standing just inside the doorway.

  Straightening, Doctor Clarke gave the man a stare as he folded his arms over his chest. “And who exactly are you to tell me my job?”

  Reaching into his suitcoat, he pulled out a black ID folder and opened it. “FBI.”

  Chapter 2

  Doctor Clarke visibly paled. “FBI?”

  Vicente didn’t know why it made him happy, but it did. “I’m here to protect Miss King.”

  That turned Sloane’s head. She hadn’t flinched when he identified himself as FBI, but the second part? It obviously didn’t sit well with the injured woman.

  Sloane blew out a breath that spoke volumes, but it was her friend’s reaction that amused him. She looked him over head to toe.

  And back again.

  And nodded, slowly up and down with a smirk on he
r face.

  “Stop undressing him with your eyes, Hildie.”

  He couldn’t help but see Sloane’s furtive glance in his direction before she gave her friend a pointed stare.

  Hildie gave a vague gesture of shock and then leaned in to whisper in an overly-loud tone. “What about my hands? Can I use my hands?”

  Doctor Clarke had apparently pulled himself together enough to speak up. “If you two would like to find a room together,” he gave Vicente a smug look, “I can get back to examining, Miss King.”

  “I’m not leaving her.”

  Folding her hands over her chest, Hildie leaned her hip on the counter in the exam room. “This is good. This is really good. If I didn’t think Sloane would disown me, I’d film this and put it on YouTube.”

  Sloane was stuck in place as the doctor cut off her bandage, but Vicente didn’t miss the amused smirk on her face. Her friend may have no evidence of a public filter, but she was entertaining, and she made her friend smile.

  Doctor Clarke laid the old bandage on the rolling tray that the nurse had set by the bed. Putting a hand on her elbow he lifted her arm into the light. “You should have called me. I would have come down and looked at earlier.”

  “Everyone was busy.”

  “And she was busy taking care of everyone else.” Hildie’s indulgent sigh almost made Vicente smile. She didn’t pull her punches.

  “I can call a plastic surgeon in for you,” Doctor Clarke turned her arm in a slightly different direction, “there are several that I can recommend.”

  Vicente watched as the man’s words settled on Sloane. She craned her neck to look at the wound, but Vicente could tell that the movement was uncomfortable. Closing the door behind him, he moved to the other side of the room and picked up a mirror from the counter. He held it up for Sloane, so she could see the narrow crease along the outside of her arm.

  Looking up at him, he could see the slight frown on her lips. “What do you think?”

  The doctor bristled beside him. “You’re asking him what to do? He’s not a doctor.”

  And then it was Sloane’s turn to take issue with the situation. “I’m getting a second opinion.” She turned her head to look back at Vincente and seemed even more interested in his opinion. “Agent…”

  “Vicente Bravo. I work out of the San Antonio Field Office.” He looked over her wound and saw the torn flesh of her arm where a bullet had scored her in the attack. “Cleaned and stitched one way or another, as long as you keep it clean and avoid infection, I don’t see why you’d need a plastic surgeon.”

  He could see the Doctor glaring at him over Sloane’s shoulder, but Vicente didn’t care one bit. He liked the look in Sloane’s eyes. There was a kind of determination in them that he didn’t see often.

  And that he always respected.

  Slone shrugged one shoulder. “I might scar.”

  Vicente narrowed his eyes at her. “You worry about that much?”

  “No.” The answer was honest and immediate and was completely devoid of vanity. Interesting.

  “Sloane,” Doctor Clarke’s tone was cold, cutting, “I’ll have to insist that your guests leave so we can treat your wound. This is wasting my time.”

  Something happened. He could see the change in her expression and the warning in her eyes as she looked up at the doctor.

  Looking down at her arm, he saw the pale outline of the doctor’s fingertips. “You’ll want to ease your grip on her arm, or I’ll remove you from the room.”

  The doctor didn’t take kindly to the interruption.

  “You have no business talking to my patient about her care. I am the best trauma doctor in this hospital. Honestly, I was relieved that I was busy earlier when the mob came in, but as soon as I heard that Sloane was here, I came right down.” He gave the agent a smile like he was posing for a headshot to go up on the wall in the hospital lobby. “After all, the Clarkes go back generations with the Kings.

  “I just saw your uncle at the Country Club last Sunday when I was playing a round with the District Attorney and he said-”

  “He meaning Sloane’s uncle, or the District Attorney?”

  They all turned to look at Hildie who just shrugged. “Sorry, I was getting confused by the name-dropping. I’ll remain quiet while my friend continues to bleed.”

  Sloane had just about had enough.

  Doctor Clarke’s complexion had turned a shade of tomato-water that didn’t look good on the man. Then again, men like Doctor Clarke didn’t like it when they stopped being the center of attention.

  “I am sorry,” Sloane began, “I know this is all very frustrating, but I don’t want to keep you here if you were on your way out.”

  The doctor looked from her face to that of the agent, still standing less than a few feet away, and then back at her. “I’m sure your uncle would appreciate my assistance in your care.”

  Ah. There it was. He wanted to be remembered to Uncle Glen. While she wouldn’t mind letting the man pad his ego and his markers for favors in the future, she didn’t want to be subjected to his over bearing behavior. “Well, I’ll make you a deal.”

  The doctor and the agent narrowed their eyes at her. Hildie was busy chewing on the corner of her bottom lip and enjoying the show.

  “You can tell my uncle that you were instrumental in repairing my wound and I won’t tell him any different.”

  The doctor’s momentary smile faded a moment later. “And what do I need to do?”

  Smiling, because she really was looking forward to it, Sloane told him. “Just get someone to come over and stitch me up. Any resident with a steady hand will do.”

  There was a moment, just a moment, when she thought he would take offense, but the promise to let him ingratiate himself with her uncle was just too good to lose. “Sure. Fine by me.”

  The FBI Agent pulled the door open and held it.

  Doctor Clarke rolled off a glove with a snap as he stepped past the agent. It was almost comical to see the doctor push his shoulders back and stretch just the tiniest bit so that he was just as tall as the agent when he walked out the door.

  Hildie sighed and waved at the empty doorway. “Bye now.” That done, she darted forward and stepped into the doorway, holding out a hand to stop the door since the agent had let it go.

  Hildie half-turned to speak as she kept her eyes outside the room.

  “Oh, you should see the way he’s walking down the hall. If he was any more of a dog he’d have a tail tucked between his legs.”

  “Don’t say that.” Sloane’s voice was a soft plea. She enjoyed a good joke as much as anyone, but she also didn’t want the agent to think she was mean. “I like dogs.”

  She couldn’t help but notice the slightest smile on his lips.

  “Good to know.”

  He wasn’t sure exactly what to think about Sloane King. He’d expected her pageant-pretty smile to fade outside of the spotlight, but she was funny with her friend and sweet to any of the hospital staff that she’d come in contact with. With the exception of Dr. Name-dropper Clarke. Sloane had seemed like she was barely tolerating him.

  Once her friend had given up on the running commentary of the stuck-up physician, Sloane had turned her attention to him.

  He didn’t bother trying to straighten his suitcoat or fiddle with his tie. He’d gone beyond that years ago. Still, people liked to judge him. The color of his skin. The origin of ‘his people’. And with people of wealth like the Kings, they judged him on the price of his suit.

  What he got when Sloane King finally focused her full attention on him was a cautious examination. “Hmm.”

  He looked back at her as his jaw started to tighten. “Hmm?”

  She turned her gaze back down to her arm and let out a loud breath. “Let me guess,” she touched a finger to the raw edge of the wound and swore under her breath, “Who called demanding that I have a protection detail? Mayor? Or, Governor?”

  He felt an itch on the back of his neck. �
��Both.”

  “Ha!” Her friend standing beside the door pumped a fist into the air. “Called it!”

  Picking up the purse on the chair, she reached in and pulled out a wallet.

  Sloane looked at her in wide-eyed disbelief. “I could have gotten it out of my own purse, thank you.”

  Her friend shrugged and took out a twenty-dollar bill and folded it before dropping the wallet back into the purse. “But you just touched blood with your bare hands, so no thanks to the germs. Yuck.”

  With a triumphant smile she placed the folded bill down the neckline of her blouse.

  Sloane grimaced and shook her head as she gave her friend a mock frown. “And bra money is better?”

  A shrug answered her. “Why not?”

  Sloane turned her gaze back to him and this time she skewered him with a look. “What do you say, Agent? If Hildie were to pull a twenty from her bra and hand it to you, would that be okay, or would you demand that it be disinfected?”

  Well, this wasn’t exactly what he’d expected from a first meeting.

  He saw Sloane’s expectant look and he had no doubt that her friend was also looking at him, waiting for an answer.

  “After the events of this morning, Director Jack Travis of the San Antonio FBI Field Office has assigned me to guard you until the incident has been fully investigated and it has been determined that you are not in any danger.”

  He let the statement fall into silence and he waited for her to react.

  All she did was turned to her friend, nodding over and over in little, barely-perceptible motions.

  “Yep,” Hildie nodded in response.

  Sloane swung her gaze back up to him. “Nicely played.”

  He shook his head. “It’s a statement of fact, Miss King. You were the apparent target of a shooting and we would be remiss in our duties-”

  “Why the FBI, I wonder.”

  Her voice had a soft wistful quality to it, and distracting as it was he actually had an answer.

  “The vehicles that attempted to intercept the van was part of our Human Trafficking Task Force.”