Before Quinn could answer, Will Travis came back on the line.
“Okay, you were right, and there’s a connection to Daryl in here. Yesterday evening the manager, a guy named Charlie Warden, was accosted by two Latino men who were looking for a man named McCord, who was driving a black Dodge truck. One man was claiming to be your brother. Said there was a family emergency with your mother and he needed to contact you. The manager wouldn’t give out any information and kept telling them that you had checked out and he had no idea where you went. Then it got ugly. They threatened to kill him. Wanted to know if you’d had any visitors or if you left alone when you checked out.”
“What did he tell them?” Quinn asked.
“Said he didn’t see anyone with you, but that he’d seen a guy come in a couple of times who wasn’t registered. As bad luck would have it, he recognized Daryl and told them they could talk to him down at the Baytown Bar. That’s where Daryl was found, so I’m guessing the men found him and tried to beat information out of him.”
“Goddamn it,” Quinn muttered.
“What is it?” Travis asked. “What are these men looking for?”
“Let’s just say a witness and leave it at that.”
“Okay. It’s your call. This has put a new slant on the incident for us. We’ll be questioning Charlie Warden to get a description of those men. Maybe we can find them before they find you.”
“That would be good, but I doubt they’re the only ones on my trail.”
“What do you mean?” Travis asked.
“That two mil? It’s million, as in money, and it’s what Ortega will pay to get what I have.”
Travis whistled softly beneath his breath.
“Man, I would not want to be in your shoes.”
Quinn looked across the bed at Kelly and then slowly smiled.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Things are looking real good from where I’m at.”
There was a moment of silence; then Travis chuckled.
“A woman. It’s got to be a woman. Am I right?”
“I’ve got to go, Travis. Just make sure to keep guards on Daryl until you hear different from me, and when he comes to, tell him he did good.”
“You got it,” Travis said. “Let me know if I can be of any further help.”
“I will, and thanks,” Quinn said, then hung up.
“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” Kelly said.
“You were right,” Quinn said. “They saw my truck at the beach, but so far, I don’t think they have any real proof that we’re together. However, upping the bounty on you to two million is serious. Are you sure you don’t want the DEA or the Federal prosecutor’s office to bring you in?”
“Hell no,” she said. “They obviously know I’m alive, and since they didn’t find it out from the desk clerk or from Daryl, then someone else tipped them off. That means there’s either a mole in my office or in the Federal prosecutor’s office. You think I’m going to trust them to keep me safe when someone from inside is feeding Ortega information?”
“Okay, I see your point,” Quinn said. “So where do we go from here?”
“I need to stay out of sight until the day of the trial. If I show up beforehand and try to barricade myself in some hotel or safe house, I’m dead. But if I make my appearance at the courthouse on the day of the trial, they won’t have time to make the hit. If you’re still set on staying with me through this, then we’ve got to ditch your truck, and I’ve got to change my appearance.”
“I can handle the truck business,” Quinn said.
“I need some money,” Kelly said. “Damn it, if only I dared access my checking account.”
“Look, I’m good for whatever you need,” Quinn said. “I have a pocket full of cash and traveler’s checks.”
Kelly frowned as he pulled out a wad of bills. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not safe to travel with a lot of money?”
“Don’t like ATMs,” Quinn said.
“Lucky me,” Kelly said. “Can you part with a couple hundred dollars?”
“Here,” he said, handing her a wad of bills. “Knock yourself out.”
“Are you always this generous with your money?” Kelly asked.
“No,” Quinn said, then picked up his car keys and grinned. “But you forget, I’ve seen you naked.”
Kelly eyed the smirk on his face, then looked him up and down.
“And the favor was returned, remember?”
Quinn pointed at her. “We’ll continue this conversation as soon as I get back with a new ride. Then we’ll go shopping for a new look.”
“I can do that while you’re getting a different car.”
Quinn frowned. “Please, Kelly, wait for me to get back, okay?”
“Look, Quinn, be reasonable. The sooner this all takes place, the better. Go. I’ll be here when you get back.”
“I don’t like this,” Quinn said.
“I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time,” Kelly said. “Trust me when I tell you I can handle Wal-Mart alone a lot better than going into the Ortega organization by myself.”
“Yeah, okay, I get your point,” Quinn said. “But don’t forget to pay attention to who’s around you. I don’t think we were followed, but there’s no way to know for sure.”
“Go,” Kelly said. “I’ll see you soon.”
Quinn hesitated, then took her in his arms. “How about one for the road?”
“One what, McCord?” Kelly asked, then wrapped her arms around his neck and let nature take its course.
The feel of his mouth on her lips was staggering. The kiss was hard—demanding—then urgent. The tension of trying to stay alive was being translated into a powerful lust.
Quinn groaned as he tore himself away from her.
“Why do I feel like I just got offered a bite of the apple?”
“I’ve been called a lot of things, but never a temptress,” Kelly said. “Trust me, I’m no Eve, and this is certainly not the Garden of Eden.”
Quinn sighed. “I’m going to get rid of my truck.”
“And I’m going to get rid of Kelly Sloan,” Kelly said.
“Don’t lose too much of her,” Quinn said. “I’m pretty partial to her the way she is.”
Kelly touched Quinn’s cheek with the back of her hand in a gentle, stroking motion.
“I won’t lose her, I promise. I just want to hide her for a while.”
Tuskeegee had no rental cars, which had put a dent in Quinn’s plan to change rides. But then he’d seen an advertisement for a paint and body shop on a sign in a vacant lot and made an adjustment to the plan. His truck was now in Little Ed’s Paint and Body Shop on a rush job, and Little Ed, who weighed somewhere near three hundred pounds, was putting red and orange flames from front to back on both sides and had talked Quinn into a three-foot decal of the Confederate flag on the hood. Added to that was a six-inch lift kit to accommodate the forty-four-inch Gumbo Monster Mudder tires Little Ed had talked him into adding to the package. The tires, which would normally cost several hundred dollars apiece, were so cheap Quinn figured they were hot, but at this point, who was he to argue? He needed to disguise his truck, and if a paint job and some stolen tires did the job, then so be it. Kelly was worth it. And for an extra hundred dollars, Little Ed was trading the license tag on Quinn’s truck for one off a car that had been totaled. Quinn admired Little Ed’s initiative and thanked him for the rush job on the truck. By this time tomorrow, they would be on their way out of town and virtually untraceable.
He started back toward the motel where he and Kelly were staying, and the farther he walked the faster he went.
Kelly watched Quinn leave the motel, then headed for the pay phone outside the manager’s office. She was so angry with the situation that she was shaking. Someone pretending to be on the side of the good guys was a traitor. She didn’t know who to blame, but there had to be a starting point, and Michael Forest was it.
She dropped some coins into the
slot and dialed his direct number. He answered on the first ring.
“This is Forest.”
“Someone with the DEA or the prosecutor’s office sold me out,” Kelly said, without introducing herself.
“Kelly?”
“Who else do you know who’s got a price on her head?”
“What do you mean, you were sold out?”
“The bounty on my head is up to two million. The only reason that would have happened is if Ortega knows for sure I’m alive. And for that to happen, someone had to tell him. Was it you, Captain? Did you sell me out?”
Forest was stunned. “You can’t believe that!”
“I don’t know what to believe,” Kelly said. “But if it’s not you, then you need to clean house. And if it’s not someone in the DEA, then it’s coming out of the Federal prosecutor’s office. I hate to speak in clichés, but someone better find that leak and fix it, or we’re sunk.”
“Kelly! Wait! Tell me what’s going on! Let me—”
She hung up in his ear then started up the street toward the Wal-Mart, her step lighter than it had been in weeks.
Forty minutes later, she was back in the motel. She dumped her purchases on the bed, then picked up a pair of scissors and a can of colored hair spray, and headed for the bathroom.
The closer Quinn got to the motel, the more he felt like running. He shouldn’t have left her alone. He just knew it.
He slipped the key into the door without knocking and then rushed inside. Then he saw her clothes in a pile on the floor outside the bathroom door and went weak with relief.
“Kelly, it’s me. I’m back.”
“Be right out,” she said.
He sat down in the chair, needing to let the panic subside. He combed his hands through his hair, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His heart was hammering. His hands were shaking. And all because he’d let fear get the best of him. This wasn’t like him. He was a better cop than this, or at least he had been—before Kelly.
“God,” he muttered, and closed his eyes. How had she become so important to him in such a short time?
“Okay…how do I look?” Kelly asked.
He opened his eyes, then grunted as if he’d just been punched in the belly.
“Kelly?”
She put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin in a defiant tilt.
“Never heard of her. Call me Candy.”
Quinn got up and moved closer, touching the sharp pointy spikes where her hair used to be.
“Nice touch,” he said, eyeing the red hair spray she’d added to the spikes. Then his gaze moved to her clothes. “You bought those at Wal-Mart?”
“No, there’s a secondhand shop a couple of blocks up.” She ran her hands down the front of the black leather mini-vest. “I always wondered what it would be like to be a biker babe.”
Quinn started to grin. “Wait till you see our ride.”
“What have you done?”
“You’ll see tomorrow.”
“Okay, fine. I can wait.”
Quinn eyed the tight black leather pants she was wearing, as well as the wealth of skin showing beneath that skimpy black vest. If it wasn’t for a white tube top, she would be naked beneath.
“I’d take you out to eat, but I might have to fight my way back home later,” he said.
Kelly grabbed his elbow and pulled him toward the door.
“I’ll save you,” she said. “Now let’s go. I’m starving.”
Quinn followed her out the door, his gaze so focused on the sway of her backside that he stumbled on the steps.
Kelly heard him curse and turned around just as he grabbed the railing.
“You okay?”
He eyed the swell of her breasts pushing against the vest and sighed.
“No, ma’am, I am not. I may never be all right again.”
Kelly grinned. “It’s just black leather.”
“You give new meaning to the term ‘hot.”’
Kelly started to tease him, then saw something in his eyes that stopped her. He wanted her. The thought of making love with this man turned her appetite for food into a different kind of hunger.
“Quinn?”
“Yeah?”
“How hungry are you…really?”
“I’m starving.”
“Oh, well, then I—”
“For you,” he added.
Kelly’s stomach tightened with a longing she hadn’t felt in years. She started toward him, her hips swaying with a slow, rhythmic gait.
Quinn took her by the hand and pulled her back into the room, then shut and locked the door. For a few moments they stood in the shadows of the room and stared into each other’s eyes.
Then Kelly exhaled slowly. When she did, Quinn sighed.
“Honey…it’s time.”
She nodded.
Quinn put his finger in the vee of her vest and gently tugged. The first snap came undone.
Kelly lifted her chin, watching the flare of his nostrils and knowing he was remembering his first sight of her.
She reached for his hand and pushed it away, then undid the rest of the snaps herself. When she shrugged out of the vest and let it fall to the floor, she thought she heard him groan.
“Kelly…Kelly…you are so beautiful.”
“It’s Candy…remember?”
“And just as sweet,” Quinn whispered, then stripped the rest of the clothes from her body and carried her to the bed.
6
“Now yours,” Kelly said, pointing to his clothes. “Take them off.”
Quinn stripped in record time and stretched out on the bed beside her. He started to kiss her, then held back when he saw the look in her eyes.
“This is crazy, isn’t it?”
“About the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” she said.
“Please don’t regret this.”
“Only if you stop,” she whispered, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He brushed his mouth across her lips, lingering tenderly on the sensual curve of her lower lip until Kelly started to moan. Then he moved down the length of her neck, dipping into the valley between her breasts with his tongue, then encircling the sweet brown areolas surrounding her nipples.
Kelly fisted her fingers in his hair. When his teeth tightened gently on the peak of one nipple, the sensual pain traveled the length of her body, building shockwaves of pulsing need.
Quinn heard her gasp, then felt her body arch up from the bed. It was exalting to know he was giving her pleasure. And so the loving began.
Night came to the small Louisiana town, cloaking the motel in what seemed a temporary refuge. The air was close—almost sultry. No breeze stirred other than what was generated by a couple of outdoor ceiling fans hanging from the portico off the office. But the heat building inside their room was of a different kind. One that threatened to consume them both.
The air conditioner rattled noisily near the foot of their bed, but the sound was lost in the act of making love as their bodies joined in a dance as old as time. Sweat-slicked, with hearts pounding, they clutched at each other in mute desperation and raced toward a finish that couldn’t be denied.
One moment Kelly was riding a ripple of pleasure, and then she slammed into the wall. Shattered by the climax that ran through her, she could do nothing but cling to Quinn and let it engulf her.
Quinn heard Kelly gasp. He looked down just as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her neck arched first, and then her body, as a low, gut-wrenching groan came out of her throat. It was the most sensual thing he’d ever experienced, and the knowledge that he’d given her such pleasure was the sign that his wait was now over. The muscles in his forearms were shaking as he slammed once more into the valley between her thighs. Once, then again, and the climax came upon him in a mind-shattering blast, emptying his mind as he spilled himself into her.
Too exhausted to move or speak, they turned to each other and slept, while across the South, the search for Kel
ly Sloan continued to escalate.
Michael Forest was livid. Being accused of selling out a fellow agent was not only humiliating but infuriating, but it wasn’t Kelly Sloan that he was mad at. It was the situation.
He’d started an investigation inside the ranks of the DEA that would put a Federal Grand Jury to shame. And he’d set a fire under the Federal prosecutor, Robert Marsh, that was echoing his own investigation. Forest wanted to be confident that the mole was not within their ranks, and yet how could he be sure? Kelly Sloan was well within her rights to be mad as hell. She’d put her life on the line by going undercover in the first place. Escaping three days of torture should have, at the least, garnered her a letter of commendation. Instead, she was still on the run, with a two-million-dollar bounty on her head and no one she felt she could trust.
Suddenly his phone rang. He reached across his desk to answer it, frustration still strong in his voice.
“This is Forest.”
“Michael, it’s me, Robert.”
The Federal prosecutor sounded far too chipper to suit Michael’s case.
“Do you have any news?” he asked.
“Yes, actually, I do,” he said. “You were right. We had a guy selling information to Gruber. He’s been arrested, although, as you said earlier, the damage has already been done. All I can say is how sorry I am that this is affecting your agent. Have you heard from her again? Do you know if she’s all right?”
“I don’t know anything except what I told you before. So if you want answers, I suggest you pray.”
Michael Forest hung up, relieved that the traitor had been identified and arrested, but that didn’t fix what was already broken.
Kelly woke to the sound of rain, then felt the heat of another body behind her back and remembered what she’d done.
God. Making love to Quinn had been a revelation. He’d brought out a sexuality in her that she hadn’t known existed and, at the same time, had given her a renewed faith in herself. Not until she’d felt the surge of life power from the climax of making love had she realized that she’d been going through the motions of living. During the three days of torture at Dominic Ortega’s hands, she’d been subconsciously preparing herself to die. When she escaped instead, she had liberated her body but not her soul. It had been tangled up with old fear and pain until the touch from a dark-eyed Texan had set it free.
On the Edge Page 28