Scorched (40 page)

Ten weeks later

Kelsey was slipping on her lab coat when Mia poked her head into the office.

“Oh good, you’re here.”

“Just got in from lunch,” Kelsey said. “Why? What’s up?”

“Sheriff Denton’s up in the lobby raising hell. Said you were supposed to meet with him at noon to go over a report?”

“That’s tomorrow.”

“Well, he’s hassling the new receptionist. You might want to go talk to him.”

The phone on Kelsey’s desk rang and Mia disappeared.

“Damn it.” Kelsey huffed out a breath. She grabbed the case file and dashed out of her office, mentally rehearsing what she hadn’t yet put in her report: The bones recovered from an abandoned well in Denton’s county—thought to be those of a missing twenty-six-year-old Caucasian female—had been identified as belonging to a middle-aged white male. The sheriff was
going to resist her conclusion, and she rehearsed her talking points as she rode the elevator up. The doors dinged open and she stepped into the lobby.

And saw Gage.

Her heart seemed to drop out of her chest. He stood there watching her. Finally he walked over, since her feet were cemented to the floor.

“Hi.” He smiled down at her, and she threw her arms around him. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder and squeezed until her arms hurt.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were coming Friday!”

He pulled back. “Surprised you, huh?”

“Who let you in here?” She wiped the tears from her cheeks and grinned up at him.

“Mia. She called down to the gatehouse and gave me a green light.”

Kelsey leaned up and kissed him.

“Dr. Quinn?”

She turned to the receptionist seated behind the desk. Far from looking “hassled,” she looked perfectly relaxed. And perfectly delighted by the lab’s latest visitor. She beamed a smile in their direction.

“It’s Manny Villarreal on line two,” she said.

“Could you take a message?”

“He’s left three already.”

“Oh. In that case, just tell him I’m in a meeting. I’ll call him later this afternoon.” She turned back to Gage. “I can’t believe you’re here early.” She glanced around. “Do you want to sit outside? Fewer interruptions.”

She took his hand and led him to the door, still
unable to believe he was really
here,
and that his big, warm fingers were laced through hers.

“When did your flight get in?”

“I drove.”

“You
did
?”

They stepped into the cool air. A front had moved in last night, and the sky was a sparkling blue—the same color as his eyes.

“Rolled into town about noon.” He looked out over the wooded landscape as she stopped at a picnic table. He sat down beside her, straddling the bench. “I don’t have a key to your house, so I thought I’d swing by here.”

“I thought SEALs didn’t need keys.” She couldn’t wipe the grin off her face. He was here two days early. They had two extra nights together.

“Yeah, well, your neighbor was in her driveway giving me the fish-eye, so . . .” His voice trailed off as he combed his fingers into her hair and leaned in to kiss her properly. Her heart filled with unexpected joy. He was
here.
His mouth was warm and he tasted faintly of coffee, probably because he’d been up all night driving. She cupped his face in her hands and brushed her fingers over his stubble. He only had about a day’s worth, and she felt even happier because when he shaved his beard, it usually meant he wasn’t going away soon.

When the kiss ended, she was practically in his lap.

“How long till you get off?” he asked in a low voice.

“Couple hours.” She kissed him.

“This place have a security cam?”

“Hundreds, I think. Why?”

The gazed shifted over her shoulder. “Because I’m thinking of taking you for a walk in those woods.”

She smiled. “Uh, bad idea. There’s a cadaver in those woods. Don’t you see the buzzards?”

A ring tone emanated from her pocket. She pulled out her phone and set it on the table to read the screen:
M. VILLARREAL
.

She saw Gage looking at it.

“You’re wondering who Manny is.”

He looked at her. “Yeah, I am.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about him.”

His jaw tightened as she took his hand.

“Manny Villarreal is the assistant director of the International Forensic Anthropology Foundation. He offered me a job.”

Gage lifted his eyebrows. “I thought you liked your job here.”

“I do. I love it.” She squeezed his fingers. “But this job’s in Los Angeles.” She waited a beat, watching his eyes. “South of Los Angeles, actually. About forty-five minutes from San Diego.”

He watched her intently, but she couldn’t read his reaction.

“You’re planning to leave the Delphi Center?”

She looked down at their joined hands. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Seeing what you did in that subway tunnel . . .” She glanced up at him. “It was incredible. All that training you guys have, all that expertise. So few people can do the things you do. Whereas with me . . . death happens everywhere.” She took a deep breath. “So if you’re based in San Diego, I think we should be in San Diego. You should be with your team.”

Gage looked at her for a long moment. “You’d do that for me?”

She nodded.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. She felt the warmth of his body, the beat of his heart against her ear. This was the right thing. She knew it. It was new and unfamiliar and scary, but it was right.

He hugged her tightly. “That means a lot, Kelsey.” He kissed the top of her head, then he eased back and looked down at her.

“Don’t take it.”

She stared up at him. “The job? Why not?”

“Because I left the teams.”

She blinked at him. “You—”

“I took an honorable medical discharge.” He looked down, and Kelsey felt a deep stab of pain for him. “My shoulder is shot—literally. It’s been slowing me down for a year now, and it got worse after I injured it on this last tour.” He looked at her. “It’s time.”

She didn’t know what to say. She had never expected to hear those words from him. Tears welled up as she realized what a loss this was for him, for his teammates.

“Are you sad?”

“No.” He looked away. Then he looked back at her. “Yeah, a little.” He shrugged. “I always figured I’d stick around the base and maybe train the next guys.” He ran his thumb over her knuckles. “But these last ten weeks, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about you. Us.”

Her heart thumped harder. She’d thought he’d dropped the big news, but he was building up to something.

“There are two metro areas within an hour from here that have SWAT teams,” he said. “And there’s the bomb squad in San Antonio.”

“Oh my God.” She laughed and covered her mouth.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just . . .” A tear slid down her cheek. “I never thought I’d be elated to hear that my fiancé wanted to be on a SWAT team.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t make a good instructor, anyway. I’m not sadistic enough. And I work better on a team.”

“You’re sure about this.”

“I’m sure.” His voice was resolute and he squeezed her hand. “I want to move on to the next phase of my life now, Kelsey. And I want it to be with you.”

He looked down at her and his genuine smile told her he was okay with this. It was a change, but it was a good one. He seemed ready for it.

He reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “So, how soon can you get out of here? There’s some other stuff I’ve been thinking about for ten long weeks.”

She smiled. “Well, I have a full afternoon, but . . .” She checked her watch and stood up. “I could probably leave at four if I hurry. You could go to my house and rest or get something to eat.”

He stood, too, and pulled her against him. “Three.” He kissed her. “And bring the lab coat.”

She took the key chain from her pocket and unhooked her house key. She folded it into his palm, and her heart skittered as she realized the significance of what she’d just done. She tried to imagine waking up
each morning with his warm body beside hers. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to start each day
with
him instead of just thinking about him and battling worry and loneliness.

He frowned down at her. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy.”

She took his hand. He’d come so far for her. For them. He deserved to know what was really in her heart.

“You remember that motel in San Francisco?” She looked up at him. “The one by the airport?”

He nodded.

“You asked me what I wanted, and I told you a house and kids and a man in my life. Even then I knew, I didn’t want those things with anyone—I wanted them with you.” She gripped his hand. “I never stopped being in love with you, Gage. Even when everything fell apart. Even through the fighting, the breakup, the other people. Even through the months away. I didn’t want to, but I loved you through all of that.”

“I know.”

She smiled. “You knew?”

He kissed her forehead. “I always knew, Kelsey. I was just waiting for you to figure it out.”

Turn the page for a sneak peek at the next spine-tingling Tracers novel from Laura Griffin

SHOOT TO KILL

Available soon from Pocket Books

Maddie Callahan’s newest clients seemed to have everything—youth, looks, money—which was precisely why she doubted their marriage would work. But she kept her opinions to herself as she snapped what she hoped was the final shot of the day.

“That should do it for the church backdrop. So, we’re all set?”

“What about the footbridge?” The bride-to-be smiled up at her fiancé. “I can post it on the blog with our engagement story.”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

Maddie stifled an eye roll and turned to check out the park. It wasn’t overly crowded—just a few people walking dogs—but their light was fading.

“I know it’s getting late.” Hannah held her hands together as if in prayer and looked at Maddie. “But could we get something
real
quick?”

“We can if we hurry,” Maddie said, collapsing her tripod and looping her camera strap around her neck. She waited for a break in traffic and led Hannah and Devon
across Main Street to the park, where she deposited her equipment beside the lily pond. She glanced around, cataloging the details of the composition. The wooden footbridge formed a low arc over the water. Sunlight glistened off the pond’s surface, creating a shimmery, storybook effect that Maddie had taken advantage of before. As one of the few natural backdrops in this congested college town, the park was a good place for wedding photos—or in this case, engagement shots. Normally, Maddie liked using it, but this appointment had run way over schedule, and she was anxious to get back to the lab. She opted to skip the tripod and keep this quick.

Maddie composed the shot as Hannah arranged her future husband behind her. In matching white oxfords, faded jeans, and cowboy boots, the couple’s look today was what she thought of as Texas preppy. Hannah settled their clasped hands on the side of the bridge, putting her two-carat diamond prominently on display.

“How’s this?” she asked.

“Perfect.” Maddie snapped the picture. “I think I got it. Just a few more and . . . that’s it. You’re done.”

Both pairs of shoulders relaxed. Devon looked at his watch, clearly relieved to be finished with what he probably thought was a marathon photo shoot. He had no idea what awaited him on his wedding day.

Hannah turned and smiled up at him. “Do I have lipstick on my teeth, sweets?”

He grinned down at her. “No. Do I?”

Maddie lifted her camera one last time as he reached down to brush a lock of hair from his fiancée’s face.

Click.

And
that
was the money shot. Maddie knew it the
instant she took it. The ring wasn’t in the picture, but she hoped they’d order a print anyway. Maybe they’d put it in a frame on their mantel, where they could glance at it occasionally and be reminded of the genuine fondness they’d had for each other before the years set in.

And, really, what more could anyone expect from a wedding picture?

Her mission accomplished, Maddie collected her equipment.

“How soon can we see something?” Hannah asked as she joined her on the grass.

“Oh, I’m guessing—” Maggie checked the time. Damn, it was already 5:30. “I should have these posted to the site by tomorrow—plenty of time to pick one for Sunday’s paper.”

The bride-to-be looked crestfallen. “You mean not by tonight?”

Maddie took a deep breath. She mentally counted to three. Yes, her day job paid the bills, but freelance work was the icing on her cake. And that business relied heavily on referrals.

“I’ll do my best,” she said brightly, even though it meant turning her whole evening upside down. And that assumed she wouldn’t get called out for some emergency. “I can probably get you something by midnight. If I do, I’ll email you the password for the gallery.”

“Thank you! I
really
appreciate it. Everyone’s dying to see how these turn out.”