The doors at the back of the room opened. Ortega turned in his seat, his gaze fixed on the opening. For a long quiet moment, no one appeared. Just when he thought it was all a hoax, she came through the doorway, then walked down the aisle.
She looked different. Still beautiful, but strong, almost defiant, and yet it was the same bitch who’d put a knife in his chest. Instinctively he leaned forward, fighting the urge to grab her and wring her neck before she could open her mouth.
She turned her head slightly—just enough that their gazes met—and then she smiled.
Ortega grunted as if he’d been punched, then leaned back in his chair. That was when he knew it was over. After that, everything happened in a blur. The words that came out of her mouth ended his hopes of freedom, and when the prosecutor introduced the evidence to corroborate her testimony, he knew he would be fortunate if they only gave him life. He heard the judge binding him over for trial and denying him bail. Then the judge made an announcement that sealed Ortega’s fate.
“Given the severity of what Agent Sloan has endured, and the fact that there is still a two-million-dollar bounty on her head, it would be prudent for all concerned to note that her testimony today will be considered valid and binding, and that the transcript of it can be used as evidence in the upcoming trial without further need of Agent Sloan’s physical presence.”
Kelly hadn’t known that was going to happen. She looked over Ortega’s head to the back of the room, where Quinn was sitting, and saw him slump with relief. So he hadn’t been the only one who’d feared further repercussions. But thanks to the judge, the pressure on Kelly was off for good.
The look the judge gave him made Ortega nervous. Without actual accusation, he’d laid down a warning to Dominic that he knew he should heed. Cursing the day he’d ever set eyes on the woman, he frantically whispered to his lawyer to pass the word along that the bounty had been withdrawn.
“Agent Sloan, you are excused,” the judge said, and then added, “although it’s not my place to do so, I feel that a public commendation of what you endured to make sure that justice has prevailed should be forthcoming. Having said that, I thank you on behalf of the citizens of the United States of America.”
Kelly nodded, a little embarrassed by what he’d just said.
“Thank you, sir, but I was just doing my job.”
Then she got up from the witness stand, walked out of the courtroom and never looked back.
Epilogue
Two weeks had come and gone since the day of the arraignment. To make sure of her safety, the FBI had given out some of her story. The rest of it was conjecture, but they let the media run with it. A woman with a two-million-dollar bounty on her head was big news, but they’d done it with the media’s assurance that they would stress the fact that the bounty had been withdrawn. The only thing waiting for someone who harmed Kelly Sloan was prison.
The news had accomplished what was necessary, which was making sure that every lowlife who’d been playing Hunt the Fed knew the sordid game was over. And while Kelly was profoundly grateful that her life was no longer in danger, the national coverage had destroyed a part of her career. Everyone knew her name and her face. There was no way she would ever be able to work undercover again.
Which brought her to Quinn. She hadn’t seen him since the arraignment, and truth be told, she felt as if she were missing a piece of herself. The ring he’d put on her finger was a beautiful and vivid reminder of what they’d shared, but she wanted more—much more. She wanted Quinn every day, not the occasional long-distance phone call and empty bed existence since he’d been pulled back on the job. He’d told her that all she had to do was let him know she was ready and he would come to her. But somehow that felt wrong. Why should he be the one to drop his work when she was the one who was now free?
Ponce Gruber had waived his right to trial and pleaded out, thankful that he would not be facing the death penalty. Ortega was in a Federal prison up north, awaiting a trial that wouldn’t take place for another six months, and Kelly was still on mandatory leave.
She had the time and she had the freedom to come and go as she chose. And the longer she thought about it, the more she realized where she needed to be.
She reached for the phone, made a reservation on the next flight to Fort Worth and went to pack a bag. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Quinn’s face.
Quinn was pulling into the parking lot of the headquarters of the Texas Rangers after a two-day investigation on the south side of Austin. He’d been driving for hours, had a headache the size of Dallas, and still had a good hour of paperwork before he could go home. Then he thought of how lonesome home had become since leaving Kelly in Maryland and decided the paperwork was better than another night alone.
The frown he was wearing deepened as he got out and started across the parking lot. On his way home from D.C., he’d called a towing company to retrieve his truck from the parking lot where they’d left it, then had it towed home. He’d managed to change the monster tires for normal ones and replace his license tag, but he still hadn’t had time to get rid of the orange and red flames or the Confederate flag, a fact for which he caught hell on a daily basis from the other men.
He was halfway up the long flight of steps that led into the building when he heard a voice from above.
“Hey, McCord…long time no see, but what’s the deal with that truck?”
He looked up. Kelly was standing at the top of the steps, dressed in black leather. His heart skipped a beat, and then another, as she started toward him.
“What’s a girl to do when she goes to see her old man and he’s a no show?”
Quinn dropped his briefcase, wrapped his arms around her and swung her off her feet.
“Kelly, sweetheart, you don’t know how I’ve missed you.”
She planted a kiss on his lips that sent him reeling. Someone whistled, while another man yelled at Quinn, “Hey, McCord, how’d you get a babe like that?”
Quinn looked up and saw another Ranger grinning at him from the top of the steps. Before he could answer, Kelly turned around, tilted her hip in a suggestive thrust and then put her hand in Quinn’s back pocket.
“It’s the truck,” she said. “Can’t get enough of it…or him.”
The look on the Ranger’s face was worth all the prior teasing.
“You’re kidding, right?” the Ranger said.
Kelly leaned against Quinn, letting him feel the curve of her hip against his groin, and pushed. Not much, but just enough to remind him of what he’d been missing.
“I never kid about my man…or his truck,” Kelly said, then turned around and whispered so only Quinn could hear, “Wipe that smile off your face or I’ll blow your cover.”
Quinn groaned, then kissed her again. “I love you, Kelly Sloan. Have you come to stay?”
“Yes, if you’ll still have me,” she said.
Quinn whooped aloud, then once again, then lifted her off her feet and swung her around. By now quite a crowd had gathered to watch, most of whom Quinn worked with on a regular basis.
“Hey, Morris!” Quinn yelled, and then tossed his briefcase to the startled Ranger who was coming down the steps. “Put that on my desk, will you? And tell the captain that I’ll be in tomorrow.”
“You just got back, now you’re leaving again?” Morris asked.
“Yeah, but I’m not going far,” Quinn said. “I’m taking Candy here to meet my mother.”
Morris’s eyes widened as he looked from Quinn to Kelly and back again, trying to imagine what Quinn’s homebody mother was going to say about the biker chick in black leather.
“I need to change first,” Kelly said, as they started back down the steps.
“Hell no,” Quinn said, as he guided her toward the now infamous truck. “They’ve been plaguing me for years about settling down. They’re due for a good shock before they find out the truth.”
Kelly grinned. “They may never forgive me for the deception.”<
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“Naw, I promise you, honey. When they find out that you’re not only on the up and up, but DEA, they’re gonna kiss the ground you walk on.”
“As long as you’re the only one kissing me, it’s a deal.”
Quinn started the truck, then accelerated. Just for good measure, leaving rubber all the way to the street.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3346-5
ON THE EDGE
Copyright © 2003 by MIRA Books.
BOUGAINVILLEA
Copyright © 2003 by Heather Graham Pozzessere.
SHELTER ISLAND
Copyright © 2003 by Carla Neggers.
CAPSIZED
Copyright © 2003 by Sharon Sala.
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On the Edge Page 32