Saunders visibly paled.
“Ukrainian crime syndicate operating out of New York,” Richards rattled off from memory. “Wonder how your friends in Moscow would feel about that. Or maybe you should be more concerned with that wrongful termination lawsuit handing over your head from that detective out of the Eighth—Nesbitt, I think her name was—when you shitcanned her after she accused a colleague of rape.”
“You don’t understand—“
“Then illuminate me.” Richards dug the barrel of the gun harder against Saunders’ forehead until the weapon began digging into his skin.
“You know how attractive this city is?” Saunders shook his head. “Port city on the East Coast less than an hour from D.C. Crime bosses the world over would kill for a presence here. And it’s up to people like me to make sure they don’t plant their flag in our turf.”
“You mean Gregor’s turf?”
“You’re right, he doesn’t want them here any more than we do.” Saunders clenched his jaw and stood up straighter. “But hey, that’s not a bad friend to have when it comes to keeping international drug lords out of this city.”
“All so the homegrown one has a monopoly.”
“When did you get so cynical, Daniel?”
“The day I had to put my partner in handcuffs.” Richards cocked his head to the side again. “You really think the public would see your reasoning, if all this came to light? This town already distrusts us. All those shootings, the beatings, the fact that half this town won’t call us when they’re in trouble cause they think we’re just gonna make it worse...”
“I did what I had to do to protect this city.”
“And unless you drop your witch hunt,” Richards said, gritting his teeth, “that devotion will cost you everything.”
Saunders locked eyes with Richards, sucking in a deep breath and straightening his posture even more. He was a few inches taller than the captain, and he had far more muscle beneath his suit, but having a gun pressed against his head...
“I could end you, Daniel.”
“And I’ll take you with me.” Richards waved the hard drive in Saunders’ face. “You wanna keep your seven-figure salary, city car, and all the prestige that comes with your job title? Clear Jill’s name and leave her alone.”
Saunders’ eyes narrowed. “She’s breaking the law.”
Richards lowered the gun from Saunders’ head to between his legs. “So are you. So am I. So are almost all of us.”
Saunders’ eyes widened and he pressed himself even more against the wall. His eyes glanced down at the gun before meeting Richards’ eyes again, and he shook his head. “Is she really that important?”
“She’s one of the few doing actual good in this city.”
With a sigh and a shake of his head, Saunders rolled his eyes. “Fine. The vigilante is no longer a priority.”
Richards pressed the gun tighter against the commissioner’s crotch, lifting his chin and arching a brow. “Make the call. Right now.”
Feeling the barrel against his most sensitive area caused Saunders to jump, though he collected himself quickly and fished a smartphone out of his pocket. Glaring at Richards the entire time, it only took one swipe before the call was placed.
“This is Commissioner Saunders,” he spoke into the device. “Abort all missions pertaining to the vigilante. Effective immediately.”
He rolled his eyes at the response. “You heard me. We are no longer to pursue Bounty. Anyone who does risks losing their badge.” Saunders pocketed his phone with a sneer. “Happy now?”
Richards holstered his gun again, a self-satisfied grin on his face that he couldn’t hide if he wanted to. He pursed his lips and gave his boss one nod before clapping the other man on the shoulder. “First good idea you’ve had in years.”
“I can still make your life hell, you know.”
Richards smiled and patted the hard drive in his hand. “But you won’t.”
CHAPTER 50
THE ONLY THING THAT felt better than being able to come and go as she pleased now that Jill was no longer a fugitive was the feeling of her hair slowly returning to its usual length. Jill actually didn’t mind how it tickled the back of her neck, or the way the strands fluttered in the breeze as she camped out on one of downtown Baltimore’s rooftops. If anything, it was a sign that things were slowly returning to normal.
That wasn’t to say things were great. She could still feel the wall that had been put up between her and Ramon—and there was still the matter of David Gregor. He had orchestrated the whole thing, from the comfort of another country, and that cowardice pissed Jill off more than the conspiracy itself. If he was going to try to ruin her life, the least he could do was look her in the eye as he did it.
But for the first time since this ordeal started, Jill could see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel—and she was fairly certain it wasn’t an oncoming train.
Still, she had her questions.
“You know,” a male voice called out from behind, “secret meetings on rooftops border on cliché at this point.”
Jill couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face. She turned and offered a one-shoulder shrug. “Hey, sometimes the classics are classic for a reason.”
“Fair enough,” Richard McDermott conceded, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “I trust you’ve decided?”
“Almost.” Jill took a moment to stare at the skyline, an image she practically had ingrained in her head. Still, it gave her comfort like few other things, this city she loved so much giving her a sense of peace, a sense of purpose. Even with everything that had happened of late, even with all of Baltimore’s problems, this was home. This was where she belonged.
McDermott’s eyes followed hers, and he pursed his lips. He wasn’t from here, but Alexandria wasn’t that far—if traffic cooperated, he could probably get there in just over an hour. Still, he could see the appeal of this place, even if others didn’t.
“I think your brother would make a fine DA,” he offered.
“He’s a good man,” Jill agreed. “He deserves far better than what life’s given him.”
“Better than a superhero for a sister?”
“Among other things.” Jill pushed off the ledge and approached McDermott. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but... I don’t trust you.”
“Good.”
Jill blinked. “What?”
“We don’t want someone who automatically trusts what’s in front of her,” McDermott explained. “We want the skeptic, the agent who understands that when something doesn’t feel quite right, she should scratch that itch until the skin breaks.”
“It just seems too good to be true.” Jill shook her head. “Having all this legal shit wiped clean? Complete autonomy? A federal badge?”
“The offer is the offer, Miss Andersen.”
It was tempting. Beyond tempting, really. She had a chance, working for the FBI, to do more good than she ever did as a detective. In fact, for the first time in what felt like forever, Jill envisioned a future in which she no longer needed to don the leather and assume the mantle of the vigilante. That day was likely far off in the future, but at least she could imagine such a future at all.
Complete autonomy to investigate and pursue as she saw fit. Seemingly unlimited resources at her disposal. This looked like the best chance Jill would ever have to bring down David Gregor once and for all, to take down the man who was responsible for so much wrong in this city, so much wrong in her own life.
Still, she hesitated.
“Complete autonomy is a myth,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll be answering to someone.”
“You’d answer to me,” McDermott said. “But the task force itself answers to no one. Officially, the FBI can’t even admit we exist.”
Jill arched a brow. “Which means we’re on our own if the shit ever hits the fan."
“Well, that’s the trade-off,” McDermott said with a shrug. “But think about all the good you�
�ll be able to do. The actual, honest good of taking down people who are abusing their power and authority. You’ll be making lives better, instead of just... helping people pick up the pieces. And if you wanna keep playing dress-up every night... well, we’re certainly not gonna stop you.”
Even with everything laid out in front of her like this, Jill still couldn’t help but wonder what she was missing. Her gut was telling her to hold off, not to jump in head-first the way she normally would. Why, she couldn’t say—and this was probably the sort of thing she would only figure out by actually taking McDermott up on the offer. Clearing her name was reason enough to do this, and all of the other benefits clearly outweighed any negative Jill could think of, and yet...
“I have two demands,” she said.
“Shoot.”
“First, I want triple my old salary. You’re gonna have me being Miss Super Secret Agent, it’s gonna cost you.”
“Done.” McDermott barely so much as shrugged.
“And second... I want a partner.”
McDermott cocked his head to the side. “A partner.”
“My old partner.” Jill approached McDermott and jabbed a finger in his chest. “And you’re gonna triple his salary, too.”
“Detective Gutierrez?” McDermott glanced out over the city again, sighing and pursing his lips. “Feeling nostalgic, are we?”
“He’s a capable investigator and a bright mind,” she explained. “And we worked really well together. You want me? You’ll hire him, too.”
“What makes you think he’ll take the job?”
Other than blind faith? Not much. But Jill had to believe that most of the animosity Ramon had thrown her way was a result of the assumption that she had murdered Joel Freeman. She had to believe that, deep down, Ramon wasn’t nearly as mad at her as he had tried to act at one point. They had been too close, for too long, for him to fly off the handle like that—especially when he didn’t get angry when she first turned in her badge.
Once Jill’s name had been cleared to Ramon’s satisfaction, the anger had gone away. Things still weren’t quite right between them, but progress had been made. That gave Jill hope that if McDermott actually made the offer, Ramon would take it.
“Those are my terms,” she said. “Either meet them or find yourself another agent.”
CHAPTER 51
Given Jorge’s reluctance to get married in a church—despite his family’s protests—the couple had eventually agreed on Chase Court, a small, intimate venue just off of Lovegrove that specialized in weddings. Indoor, outdoor, same-sex, it didn’t matter... Chase even specialized in Renaissance weddings. The way Ramon’s face had lit up with mirth upon learning of Renaissance weddings was enough to send Jorge into hysterics... before they fell into bed together and almost made Ramon late to a crime scene, smoothing back his hair and still working on tucking in his shirt.
No such issues on this, what promised to be the happiest day of Ramon and Jorge’s lives. Ramon was surprised at how little his nerves were bothering him. He adjusted his white bow tie with an easy smile, turning around and lifting his chin as Juanita reached in to tug on the bow. Apparently, it wasn’t tight enough.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Surprisingly, yes.” Ramon huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Figured I’d be a nervous wreck.”
Juanita quirked a brow and pursed her lips, for no other reason than to keep a smile from blooming onto her face. “You didn’t think you’d be having second thoughts about Jorge, did you?”
A distant, wistful look came across Ramon’s face. His eyes were looking in the direction of the full-length mirror, but he wasn’t truly taking in his own reflection. “Never. I just wish Jill was here.”
“Hey, she’s surprised you before.” Juanita brushed her hands over her brother’s shoulders before giving him a once-over and adjusting one of the shoulder straps on her royal purple dress. “I’m just glad you’re back on speaking terms.”
The smile on Ramon’s face only grew wider, because for the first time in what had felt like months, things had finally settled back into place.
CHASE COURT’S CEREMONY garden held well over a hundred guests, though Ramon and Jorge barely had thirty between them. Still, the gathering surrounding the wooden path that led to an intimate stage area couldn’t have been more perfect, and Jorge smiled at the clearing-in-the-forest feel the area had. The trees were far greener than anything he had seen thus far in the city, and the way the sun shone through the leaves reminded him of home.
But as soon as Ramon emerged with Juanita on his arm, his pristine white tuxedo almost glowing under the midday sun, Jorge couldn’t have cared less about the venue or the other guests staring at him. His soon-to-be husband was approaching the altar, the same dopey grin on his face he had the day the two men met. It was as infectious on their wedding day as it had always been, and Jorge cleared his throat in order to re-focus himself.
There would be plenty of time for that later.
“Hi,” Jorge whispered with a sideways grin once Ramon was standing beside him, Juanita now over her brother’s shoulder. Earl Stevens was standing behind Jorge, two small gold bands in his pocket. Stevens barely knew Jorge, but he had agreed to be the ring bearer as a favor to Ramon once things with Jill became... complicated. Stevens’ only demand was that he be allowed to wear his cowboy boots with his suit. A good shining was all they needed.
“Dearly beloved,” the officiant, an elderly man with a beard and glasses that made him look like Dumbledore, greeted. “We are gathered here to witness the blessed union of two lives, a fusion of the love they share for one another.”
A gentle breeze kicked up seemingly in response, giving everyone a break from what had been an unusually warm day. The trees afforded plenty of shade, which helped, but no one would argue about the wind if it had decided to make an appearance.
“It is my understanding that the couple has decided to recite their own vows.” The clergyman rose his eyebrows, and Jorge responded with a nod. “Then I shall turn the floor to you fine gentlemen.”
Jorge slipped his hands into Ramon’s, and their eyes instantly locked. “Ramon,” he began, “you have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. You’re kind, selfless almost to a fault... if I had to see half of what you see every day, I wouldn’t even want to come out of my room. Yet every day, you put on that badge and you go out there and you give everything you’ve got. You are a remarkable man in every way, and I can’t believe I was lucky enough to meet you, let alone fall in love with you.”
A woman started crying among the crowd. Jorge fought the urge to smirk, because he could tell it was his mother. She had been among the most vocal against the relationship when it had started, yet now she had been moved to tears by her son’s vows. It was amazing how things could change.
“Not a day will go by when I don’t fall in love with you all over again,” Jorge continued, feeling Ramon’s hands squeeze his. “I look forward to waking up next to you every day for the rest of our lives, and I just know we’re destined for even better days ahead.”
Ramon tried to hide the sheepish grin that had spread across his face. He hated displays like this, as a general rule, but if one couldn’t be sappy and sentimental at a wedding, then when could they? He could handle a few minutes of embarrassment in front of family and friends if it meant getting to spend the rest of his life with Jorge.
He sucked in a deep breath before looking up again.
“I see a lot of bad things,” Ramon started. “Humanity at its worst, the darkness and hatred that drives them. It’s tough, and it would be real easy to let that darkness swallow me whole. But you help keep all that away. You make sure that when I come home, I stop being Detective Gutierrez and go back to being just Ramon. I don’t think you truly understand just how important that is.”
Jorge ducked his head.
“The weight you lift off my shoulders, without me even asking... I don’t know if I have the words to e
xpress how much I appreciate that. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything, Jorge, and I shudder to think what my life would be like without you in it. I’m just glad that, after today, I don’t ever have to find out.”
Ramon was so focused on delivering his vows, and not forgetting any of the words, that he didn’t notice the shadowy presence in the back of the garden.
In fact, no one noticed.
THE HOUR AFTER RAMON and Jorge shared their first kiss as a married couple had been filled with laughter, drinks, and terrible dancing. Ramon’s many qualities did not involve rhythm, and Jorge was the textbook definition of two left feet. Fortunately, just about all of the guests were just as bad, so the dance floor more closely resembled a comedy hall.
As the newlyweds and their guests reveled in the joy of the day, Jill hung out in the few shadows the garden afforded her. Not that she was worried about being seen—her fugitive days were thankfully over—but hiding had become such a habit to her in recent weeks that it was almost automatic.
Still, she couldn’t help but smile at the way Ramon laughed and carried on. This was as relaxed as she could ever remember seeing him—as if, for one day at least, the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. In spite of their recent struggles, it did her heart good to see her former partner so happy.
She had even kept her promise. Jill had once told Ramon she would never miss his wedding day for the world, and sure enough, here she was.
And she wanted so badly to let him know that.
Once Ramon and Jorge stepped off the dance floor, hand-in-hand, Jill sucked in a deep breath and stepped out from under a grove of trees. Her black blouse and slacks weren’t as dressy as everyone else, but they were still appropriate for such an occasion. Especially since Jill didn’t have the budget for a fancy dress—not that she cared to wear that purple thing that clung to Juanita’s hips.
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