Killshadow Road
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Paula Graves
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Epilogue
Night had fallen over Knoxville, Tennessee, after a long day of debriefing. SAC Robertson had brought in a doctor to check on her gunshot wounds, but she’d talked them both out of admitting her for treatment. “They’re practically healed by now,” she’d protested, and they’d been able to tell by her stern tone that she wasn’t going to agree to any attempts to trundle her off to the hospital for further tests. Besides, the doctor had been forced to concede that Darcy had done a good job of keeping the wounds clean and treated.
“You should follow up with your own doctor in a day or two,” the bureau doctor had told her with a firm look before he gathered his supplies and left her alone with Glen Robertson.
The next few hours had been a series of in-depth interviews, not just with Robertson but video interviews with high-ranking officials at FBI headquarters in Washington. She’d told them everything she knew about Darryl Boyle’s involvement with the Blue Ridge Infantry, including the fact that she’d been forced to leave him behind when making her escape.
“I suppose that doesn’t exactly cover me with glory,” she said.
“I’m not sure any of us is in a position to judge your choices, under the circumstances,” Robertson murmured. “And you have no idea where they could have taken Boyle?”
She shook her head. “I don’t. There are places in the hills where secrets have stayed hidden for centuries.”
Finally, close to 10:00 p.m., apparently everyone interested in what she had to say ran out of questions. The video links shut down and Robertson finally turned to her in the silence of his office.
“I don’t think you have a chance in hell of going anywhere in the FBI, Agent Rigsby.”
She nodded, unsurprised. “I know.”
“It’s a damned shame. You’re a good agent.”
“I’m not. I can’t play by the rules enough to be a good FBI agent.”
Robertson put his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Maybe not. But I think you did more to stop a terror attack these past few days than you realize.”
She hoped so. She just wasn’t sure the Blue Ridge Infantry would let one little setback stop them.
“Am I free to go?” she asked.
“You need to stay in the area until the case is officially closed. But yes, you’re free to go. Do you need a ride?”
She wasn’t sure what had happened to her car. She’d have to see if it was still where she’d left it before everything went crazy, or if it had been towed already. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
A little while later, SAC Robertson pulled up in front of her apartment building and let her off at the curb. “You want me to park and walk in with you?”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “I think I can probably handle it.” She headed up the sidewalk to the awning-covered double doors.
Inside, the apartment lobby was quiet and mostly empty, except for a man sitting on one of the white lobby chairs. He looked up as she entered, and for a moment, she thought she was seeing what she wanted.
Then he stood, tall and lean and so familiar, her heart started to ache.
“Thought you’d never get here,” Darcy said with a smile.
* * *
SHE LOOKED TIRED, he thought. No doubt the FBI had put her through the wringer before letting her leave. He’d undergone similar questioning from the Ridge County Sheriff’s Department, especially since one of their deputies had been tangentially involved in what had happened the night before.
“I heard you found Fitz, Calhoun and his wife safe and alive.”
“They managed to free themselves from the shed where they’d been stashed,” Darcy told her, waving off her offer of something to drink. She looked strangely out of place in this clean, utilitarian apartment she apparently called home. Wild-haired, makeup-free and still wearing the grimy clothes she’d been wearing when she was abducted by Hopkins and his crew, she seemed like an alien presence in this city flat.
“Everybody’s okay?”
He nodded. “And Quinn took me off paid administrative leave. I’ve been cleared to resume duties.”
She smiled. “Good. About damn time.”
“That’s what I told him.” He fell silent, wondering how to approach the next topic.
Them.
Before he could speak, McKenna grimaced. “I need a shower.”
“I could use one, too.” He crossed to where she stood by the kitchen counter and took a deep breath before speaking. “We could share.”
She looked up at him, smiling as if she thought he was kidding.
He wasn’t.
Her smile faded. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I thought I’d lost you.” He touched her face, let his fingers tangle in her hair. “I thought you were dead. And I realized that I’ve been in love with you for over eight years.”
Tears filled her eyes. She let them fall. “Oh, Darcy. I love you, too. I always have. I just didn’t think—” She knuckled the tears away.
He tugged her closer. “Didn’t think you could put up with such a priggish rule-keeper?”
She laughed. “You are anything but priggish. And I’m pretty sure you broke more rules than I did over the past few days.”
“I try.”
She touched his face. “I thought you’d never be happy with someone with one foot still in the hills. I am what I am. These hills made me who I am, and I don’t know how to be anything else.”
“I wouldn’t want you to be anything or anyone but exactly who you are.” He cradled her face between his hands. “I depend on you being you. I need you, just the way you are. So, tell me. If I said I wanted you to come to Purgatory and be with me for good—could you do it? Would you?”
She tugged him to her, kissing him deeply. He pulled her closer, his heart starting to race as she pushed him back against the kitchen counter.
He dragged his mouth free. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
She laughed again, the sound beautifully free and light. “That’s definitely a yes. And while we’re at it—think you can talk Quinn into giving me a job?”
“What about the FBI?”
She arched her eyebrows. “I’d be a dead-ender like Landry.”
“Oh,” he said. “Did you hear about Landry?”
She shook her head. “SAC Robertson didn’t mention him. Did something happen to him?”
“Nobody knows. He didn’t show up for work this morning, and when his supervisor sent an agent to check on him, his apartment had been cleared of any personal items. His landlord said he’d paid up the remainder of his lease, told the manager to dispose of the furniture as he saw fit and left.”
“Wow. I thought you said he tried to help us.”
“I think he did,” Darcy admitted. “He seemed honestly worried about you and what Darryl Boyle was up to.”
“Robertson said there’s no sign of Boyle.” Her expression darkened. “I don’t know that I feel very good about leaving him to the tender mercies of the BRI.”
“I didn’t, either,” Darcy admitted. “But it was the only way to get you out of there without a standoff. And a standoff with that many armed, reckless men never ends well.”
She pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “I was so afraid for you.”
“I was so afraid for you, too.” He kissed the top of her head. “But we’re both safe now.”
“Till the next time we butt heads with the BRI.” She kissed his shoulder and looked up at him. “Quinn’s not through with them, is he?”
“No.”
She shot him an impish smile. “Well, we’ll worry about that later, okay? We have a shower to take.”
“Yes,” he agreed, tugging at the hem of her T-shirt, “we do.”
She dodged free, laughing. “Race you, Jeeves!”
“Not a Brit!” he protested as she darted toward the hallway.
She stopped in the doorway and turned, gazing at him with so much happiness it made his chest ache. “You are. You’re my Brit.”
He closed the distance between them, pulling her tightly into his arms. “I guess that makes you my hillbilly, then.”
“It does.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
* * * * *
Award-winning author Paula Graves’s miniseries THE GATES continues next month with TWO SOULS HOLLOW. You’ll find it wherever Harlequin Intrigue books are sold!
Keep reading for an excerpt from KANSAS CITY COVER-UP by Julie Miller.
