Just Enough Light

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Just Enough Light Page 21

by AJ Quinn


  Short minutes later, she was enjoying the affirming sting of cold air. Watching puffs of vapor form as Bogart ran down the laneway and back, returning to her side each time with the brightly colored ball she’d thrown. Panting, tail wagging, waiting for her to throw it again. All perfectly ordinary. Lighthearted and innocent.

  Until Bogart alerted.

  Kellen went very still. The wind blew her hair in her face, but she didn’t try to stop it or push it back. She didn’t move at all because she felt the presence of a predator, somewhere nearby.

  In that fleeting instant, she also saw a movement. Someone coming along the lane toward her. A hand raised in greeting. A shadow that morphed into Calvin Grant while Bogart continued to look at the woods to her right.

  She thought about it—for less than a second. And then she stopped thinking. She simply acted. She felt herself move toward him, knew her boots were crunching ice and snow, felt the wind whipping her hair. Then everything faded as she lunged, hitting Grant in his midsection, taking him down hard and leaving them both desperately short of breath. An instant later, a bullet whistled mere inches above their heads.

  “Jesus, that was too close,” Grant muttered in her ear as he regained his breath. “Whatever you do, Ryan, don’t move.”

  “Not moving.” She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. The world had become gray and out of focus.

  Keying his body mic, Grant called out reinforcements. Kellen listened as he gave them his present location, advised them he was not alone, and indicated roughly where the shot had come from.

  Kellen remained where she was, lying on top of Grant. Acutely conscious of the pounding of her heart, while Bogart remained protectively beside her. Too visible, she thought, and patted the snow beside her until he lay at her side.

  It felt like an eternity passed before one of the FBI sharpshooters returned. “You’re safe to move,” he said. “We know where he was, but he’s long gone. All I can tell you right now is he left behind a shell casing and some blood. Vasquez, Roberts, and Singer are following his trail, but they’re not optimistic about finding him. It’s like we’re chasing a ghost.”

  He reached a large hand and helped Kellen to her feet, then gently touched her neck and stared at his fingertips. “That’s blood. You’re hurt.”

  Kellen felt Grant and the sharpshooter staring at her as she touched her neck, felt the wetness there, and only now started to feel the pain. “It’s not new,” she said. “It’s from my last encounter with the bastard, from this morning. I must have popped a couple of stitches.”

  “Frankly, I don’t care when it happened. We need to get you some medical attention,” Grant said. He started to pull her in the direction of the clinic, but Kellen resisted.

  “It’s okay. Dana—Dr. Kingston—is at my cabin and it’s closer.” She pulled her hand back only to sway beneath a wave of dizziness. Grant steadied her, and between the two FBI agents, they helped her back to the cabin, with Bogart following close behind. As she walked, she couldn’t help but wonder if Dana and the girls had heard the shot and had been frightened. And how annoyed Dana was going to be that she was bleeding again.

  *

  Dana opened the front door before Kellen and the two FBI agents made it up the steps. Her heart had been pounding wildly since the crack of a single rifle shot had shattered the stillness of the evening.

  Cody and Ren had wanted to immediately go out and find Kellen, and as much as Dana wholeheartedly concurred with the sentiment, her first responsibility was to keep the girls safe, and it had taken everything she had to convince them to stay with her. Inside Kellen’s cabin, waiting for her to return.

  She had to return. That was the only outcome Dana could conceive because Kellen not coming back to her was simply not possible.

  And now here she was. Covered in snow and blood. Being helped by Calvin Grant and one of the steely eyed FBI sharpshooters, while Bogart followed her every move.

  “Oh God, what have you done?”

  “It’s nothing, Dana. I just popped some of the stitches when I tackled Special Agent Grant.”

  Dana looked toward the tall heavyset agent and back to Kellen. “You tackled him? Jesus, Kellen. Are you crazy? He looks like he should be playing pro football.”

  It was Grant who finally spoke. “I don’t know how she knew he was there. I do know she likely saved my life. If she’d been a second or two slower in bringing me down, the shot you heard would have taken me out.”

  “Bogart alerted,” Kellen said wearily. “When I saw you coming toward me, I don’t know why, but I knew he’d go after you, not me. Maybe this shooter is trying to terrorize me by picking off those around me. And I don’t want anyone else hurt on my account.”

  As Grant stared at her, his expression softened. “Whatever the reason, thank you.”

  The urge to hold Kellen in her arms and never let go almost toppled Dana. Instead, she reached for Kellen’s hand and squeezed. She then pulled her to the kitchen and sat her at the table while Ren fetched her medical bag and Cody stoked the fire.

  As she carefully removed Kellen’s coat and sweater, and cut off the bloodied bandage from her neck, she felt her throat tighten. The images of Kellen hurt and bleeding that had haunted her since hearing the echo of the gunshot returned and almost unraveled her composure.

  Kellen reached for her, held her hand for a moment. “I’m right in front of you. Real, solid, and very much alive.”

  Disregarding the two FBI agents in the room, Dana pressed her lips to Kellen’s temple. “What is it with you and the girls? Are you all mind readers? Ren gets my medical bag without my asking. Cody stokes the fire before you start to shiver. And now you reassure me everything’s all right without my saying a word.”

  “It’s what happens when you care about each other, I guess. Part of being a chosen family.”

  Dana nodded, and with a strong sense of déjà vu, she cut off the bloodied bandage on Kellen’s neck and once again began the process of cleaning and stitching the bullet wound. Except she really had been there before. Just a few hours ago.

  She wondered if she would ever achieve the kind of connection the girls and Kellen seemed to share. A connection she’d previously not understood and now wanted more than anything.

  “You already do,” Kellen said. “You just don’t know it yet.” She gestured to the FBI agent. “What about you, Special Agent Grant,” Kellen asked, aware the agent’s eyes missed nothing. “What was it that brought you out this fine evening and nearly got you killed?”

  Grant gave her a sharp look and she suddenly realized his presence this evening wasn’t just because of the pending case.

  “One of these days, you’re going to call me something other than my title, which no one else manages to say quite so derisively. But if you must know, I heard you’d been hurt this morning and I wanted to check and see how you were doing.”

  “Really?” Kellen bit back a grin. “Keep that up and someone’s going to suspect you actually like me.”

  “They’d be right. Damn. Never thought I’d see the day, but I do like you, Kellen Ryan. Even if you are going to be the death of my reputation.” Grant laughed. “Now it’s time to sleep. We’ve still got a shooter out there and if I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s never to miss an opportunity to sleep. You never know when you’ll get another.”

  When Grant and his silent sidekick left, Kellen remained at the table lost in thought until Dana approached.

  “How did you know he was there?”

  “Like I said. Bogart alerted.”

  “Kellen—”

  “I just felt something was wrong. I felt it in my gut.”

  “You trust your gut, don’t you? Has it ever let you down?”

  “Only once.” Kellen fell silent, absently rubbing Bogart’s ears. “My parents…I never saw that coming. But then, maybe I didn’t develop my gut until I had spent some time on the street. It’s a wonderful teacher, the street. It teaches yo
u lessons in ways you never, ever forget.”

  “Is that why you keep that backpack in the front closet?” Dana stared at the closed wooden door as if it was holding back a dark monster. Or perhaps she had already come to regret her question.

  “Kel?” Ren approached her quietly. “Do you want me and Cody to go so the two of you can talk?”

  She shook her head, flinching slightly as the new stitches pulled. “No need. We’re family.” Getting up, she walked to the closet and retrieved the backpack. And then she gave it to Dana. “Have at it,” she said. “I’ve nothing to hide from you.”

  *

  Dana stared at the backpack, her heart pounding and her head spinning with uncertainty. She wanted to ask Kellen more questions, to make sure this was really all right. To make sure looking didn’t imply a lack of trust. Then she realized letting her see was Kellen’s act of trust. Her gift. And then she pushed all hesitation aside, opened the backpack, and spilled its contents on the table.

  She found herself at a complete loss for words.

  In among the jeans, T-shirts, boxers, and socks, was a thick stack of twenty dollar bills, a number of credit cards, and three passports, along with a variety of legal documents. Dana could see birth certificates, university diplomas—

  Picking up the closest passport, she opened it and found herself staring at a photo of a blue-eyed woman with short, spiked blond hair. From Montreal, Canada. She looked different, but there was no question the woman in the picture was Kellen.

  “I speak, read, and write French. Quite fluently. So does Ren, for that matter.”

  Nodding uncertainly, Dana put the passport down and picked up a second. This time the Russian-born American citizen had short dark hair and dark, nearly black eyes.

  “Contact lenses. And yes, I’m equally fluent in Russian. German as well,” she added with a touch of humor.

  The last passport had yet another slightly different version of Kellen. Closer to her current reality, except it had a different name and identified her place of birth as Louisiana.

  Dana held it in her hand, stared at the photograph. “Is this where you’re from originally?”

  Her question brought a faint smile to Kellen’s face. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’m not sure.” Dana shrugged. “I guess because you have a trace of an accent I’ve always wondered about.”

  “That’s funny, because you’re not the first person to think that. And New Orleans happens to be one of my favorite places. But no. I wasn’t born there.”

  “Um, okay. But can I ask how—” She indicated the passports, uncertain how to frame her question.

  “When you live on the street, you meet all kinds of people. And if you’re willing to pay, you can get top quality for whatever you want. Good enough to pass any customs or border check.”

  “Oh.” Reaching over, Dana tucked a few stray strands of hair behind Kellen’s ear. “And if I asked, would you tell me where you were really born?”

  Kellen grasped Dana’s hand and brought it to her lips, placing a gentle kiss on her fingers. “Of course. I was born in New York.”

  Dana lowered her eyes and nodded, even as she tried to understand and absorb everything she’d seen and heard over the last few minutes. That she and Kellen were lovers was not in question. But Dana was uncertain how or when she’d given Kellen reason to trust her with so much. So completely.

  “I didn’t need a reason,” Kellen whispered. “I just knew—from the first time I saw you.”

  “You’re reading my mind again. Do you suppose it’s something I’ll eventually learn?”

  Kellen dazzled her with a smile. “Who knows? In time, I’d say anything’s possible.” And then she tipped Dana’s head back and claimed her with a kiss that ignited her senses.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Under normal circumstances, Kellen would have started her day with a workout of some kind. A run, time in the gym, or some laps in the pool. Anything to get out some of the frustration flowing in her veins. Anything to calm her less than steady nerves.

  Except things were far from normal. Nor had they been for quite some time.

  The FBI insisted she couldn’t go running through the woods until further notice. Not until they caught the man seemingly intent on killing her. And the woman in her bed, a woman who was consuming all her waking thoughts and dreams, had warned her to stay away from the gym and the pool, because she had no interest in stitching the bullet wound in her neck a third time. She was also restricted from going on any callouts other than avalanches.

  So instead, the new normal had her spending a good part of the day in Annie’s office. Finalizing the seemingly endless plans for the grand opening of the medical clinic. The event had been intended as a celebration, involving financial backers and the local communities that would benefit from the clinic. But now, security measures had taken on a life of their own.

  The lack of escape avenues available to her had Kellen tied up in knots, leaving her feeling grateful when a telephone call from Harrison Parker interrupted the ongoing discussion. Special Agent Grant stepped out of the room and Kellen put the senator’s call on speakerphone, enabling Dana and Annie to participate in the conversation.

  Except the senator wasn’t calling about the opening. He made that perfectly clear as he quickly got to the heart of the matter.

  “I’ve spoken to your grandmother’s lawyer, Kellen. He’s agreed to call off his investigator if I can provide him with a blood sample that can be used for DNA testing to prove who you are. He’s also agreed he doesn’t need to know where you are if my lawyers act on your behalf and handle the bequest.”

  “I can handle the blood sample,” Dana said.

  “I figured as much,” Harrison said. “Kellen? You do understand it’s a mere formality, don’t you? Anyone who’s ever seen you and knows who your father is—well, there should be no doubt. Feature for feature, you are the very image of your father. As for strength of character, we can all be grateful you turned out like neither of your parents.”

  “Thank you, Senator.”

  “You’re very welcome.” There was a noticeable pause before Harrison spoke again. “You should also know I ran into your parents at a showing in DC a couple of days ago.”

  Kellen tried to push back an immediate reaction as her heart began to jackhammer and she felt an unwelcome weakness in her knees. “I see.”

  “No, I don’t think you do. At least not yet.” His voice was remarkably gentle. “I made it a point to speak with them. I hope you don’t mind, but I let them know I was speaking to them on your behalf. I told them you are alive and well and under my protection, and that I plan to keep you that way. And then I showed them a sample of some documents and photographs I obtained from a hospital in Chicago, relating to an eleven- or twelve-year-old Jane Doe who’d been savagely beaten and raped almost twenty years ago.”

  “Oh God.” Kellen’s eyes burned and the edges of her vision grayed. Her legs started to fold and she staggered, reaching for anything to keep herself upright before dropping to her knees. But she could still hear the senator.

  “You saved my daughter’s life, Kellen. In the years since that time, you allowed me to get to know you. Enough that you’ve become like a second daughter to me. I consider you family and I protect my own. So I told them if they ever come near you or try to hurt you again in any way, the documents I have will be made public. I don’t care about statutes of limitation. I guarantee they will both be destroyed in the court of public opinion. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Kellen tried to speak, tried to respond, but she couldn’t get any words out. All she could think was that a man she respected and admired had seen the photographs. Read the reports. He knew everything her father had done to her. The knowledge rolled around in her mind until a wave of nausea threatened to bring her down.

  As if from a distance, she heard the senator continue speaking to Annie and Dana. She thought she heard him ask them to make
sure she was all right and that she should call him later. Once she’d had a chance to absorb what he’d told her.

  Before the senator hung up, Kellen was on her feet and out the door. That she left her jacket behind didn’t matter. She didn’t feel the bite of the cold air. She didn’t feel anything except conflicting emotions.

  The horror that photographs and documents revealing the extent of what had been done to her were now public knowledge. Preserved for eternity. And the sheer wonder that someone had stood up to her parents on her behalf.

  She ran past Grant’s security team without stopping. But all it had taken was one look at her face and they had allowed her to pass. She even managed to make it into her cabin before being wretchedly and violently sick. After which she dragged herself into the shower, turned on the hot water, covered her face with her hands, and tried to get warm as she wept for the first time in a very long time.

  *

  Dana found her there thirty minutes later, still fully dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Sitting in the shower with her face pressed against her knees, shivering under a stream of scalding hot water.

  If only she’d known. But then again, Dana knew she couldn’t have gotten to Kellen any sooner, because she’d had to deal with Cody and Ren. Both girls had seen Kellen run by and had been frightened. Kellen had been crying. And nothing made Kellen cry. Not ever.

  So she’d talked to them. Soothed and calmed them. Explained that Annie’s father had taken steps to protect Kellen from her father, and that Kellen had been overcome by his act of kindness. His unbelievable generosity. But most of all, she assured them Kellen would be okay. Hopefully more than okay.

  She barely had time to second-guess her own words when she found her. Dana turned off the water, got Kellen to her feet, and somehow helped her out of her sodden clothes. Kellen’s eyes were bloodshot and glassy with shock and she remained docile as a lamb, standing mutely while Dana dried her and got her into pajama bottoms and a fresh T-shirt. And then she allowed Dana to tuck her into bed without protest.

 

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