Trace Evidence in Tarrant...

by Delores Fossen

  Then Sloan had walked away.

  And Carley had let him.

  It hadn't been easy. Actually, it had been one of the hardest things she'd ever done. But it was necessary. Sloan needed time and space. He had to come to terms with what he'd just learned.

  If that was even possible.

  How did a man come to terms with the fact that the father he loved might be a killer?

  Worse, it went deeper than that. His mother had kept the secret all these years. She'd lied by omission, and it was a doozy of a lie. And it all made Carley think.

  Just how far did this go?

  If Jim McKinney had indeed killed Lou Ann, then had he killed Sarah Wallace, as well?

  Had Jim been the cloaked person who'd tried to kill Sloan and her? Had he been responsible for that explosion and fire that they'd barely escaped?

  That brought on a new round of tossing and turning. Carley finally gave up, got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. She passed the Ranger along the way, who issued a crisp good morning. Carley refrained from barking, What's so good about it?

  When she reached the kitchen, she went straight for the freezer and located something that interested her. Caramel-fudge ice cream might give her a little solace. She grabbed the carton and a spoon and sat down at the table.

  The ice cream tasted like sugary chalk in her mouth. Worse, everything felt awful. Out of kilter. And it likely wouldn't get any better until they knew the truth.

  It sickened her to think of the possibility of Sloan's father as a killer. It would have taken a cold-blooded monster to do what that cloaked figure had done. Especially if he'd done it to his own son.

  Of course, there was a flip side to this. Sloan had kept his own secret about his mother possibly not being home that night. So maybe Stella's confession was meant to throw the guilt off her.

  It hadn't worked.

  Carley added the woman to the list of suspects: Donna, Leland, Jim and Stella. Somehow Sloan and she had to figure out who it was, because things couldn't continue like this. That said, they didn't seem close to bringing a killer to justice. That wouldn't get easier with Sloan having to divide his attention between the case and his mother.

  An added complication was what had happened between Sloan and her.

  Sloan was right. Sex did change things. But it didn't always change things for the better. He'd walked away from her tonight because there literally wasn't time for anything personal.

  There might never be.

  Both of them were focused on their careers. On the case. Doing a good job was as bone-deep to them as their DNA. They couldn't change what they were, who they were, and maybe that would always stand in the way of anything deeper developing between them.

  Carley closed the lid on the ice cream and tossed the spoon into the sink. As the spoon clanged against the stainless steel, she felt the first tear form in her eye.

  It was a sad day in a woman's life when she started lying to herself. Her job, her DNA, the case wouldn't stand in the way of something deeper developing between Sloan and her.

  Well, it wouldn't stand in the way as far as she was concerned.

  Because she'd already fallen hard for Sloan McKinney. And not just fallen.

  She was in love with him.

  And somehow she had to live with the likelihood that Sloan would never love her in return.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sloan checked once again to make sure he hadn't been followed.

  He hadn't been.

  Even now, security was one of his main concerns. He hoped it wouldn't be much longer. Of course, Carley would have some say in that.

  After a brief mental lecture, he marched up to the door of the condo, lifted his hand to ring the bell—and froze. Just froze.

  There was so much at stake.

  Too much.

  He had some tough news to tell Carley and he didn't know how she would react to it. Sloan hated the thought of seeing disappointment and hurt on her face, but there was no way to avoid this. He had to tell her.

  He couldn't leave things as they were any longer.

  Sloan rang the bell, and the door flew open. He was greeted by Sgt. Mark Meadows, a rather harried-looking fellow Ranger, who had his gun drawn. The sight of that gun sent Sloan's heart racing out of control.

  "Is Carley all right?" Sloan demanded, pushing his way past Meadows.

  "She's just fine. But thank God you're here," Meadows grumbled. He grabbed Sloan's arm and practically pulled him around to face him.

  "What's wrong?" Sloan asked.

  "You mean other than the fact that Carley asks every five minutes when she'll be able to leave? And she keeps pestering me for an update about the investigation. In between those particular questions, she keeps asking if you've called. So, other than her driving me crazy, nothing's wrong."

  Sloan relaxed a little. He'd expected Carley to be impatient and even demanding and he had prayed some big-time prayers that it was all she would do. It could have been worse. She could have ditched her promise to stay put and returned to Justice.

  But she hadn't.

  For two whole days she'd stayed shut inside the tiny Dallas condo, and Sloan figured she was pushing the limits of sanity for herself and the Ranger guard. It was certainly questioning his sanity, and he hadn't been the one stuck in the safe house.

  "Why don't you take a lunch break?" Sloan suggested. "I need to talk to Carley."

  He didn't have to suggest it twice. Sgt. Meadows grabbed his things and headed out. Sloan took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he'd come here to do.

  "Carley?" he called out, double locking the door behind him. He also reset the elaborate security system.

  He heard the footsteps almost immediately. Carley came barreling out of the bedroom. She was dressed in her sheriff's uniform, complete with shoulder holster and badge, and she looked ready to report for duty.

  She stopped just a few feet away from him and offered a tentative smile. That smile vanished when she noted the expression on his face.

  "It's bad news," she said.

  "Good and bad," Sloan confirmed.

  She nodded and moistened her lips. "Start with the good. It might soften the bad."

  Sloan didn't think it would, but he proceeded anyway. "Early next week you'll get a call from the Rangers selection committee."

  "I will?" She flattened her hand on her chest as if to steady her heart.

  "You will."

  She waited a moment, and he could see that she was fighting to keep her composure. The nerves were there, barely beneath the surface. "And it'll be good news?"

  "You bet. But since I'm not supposed to be telling you this, you'll need to act surprised when the captain congratulates you and informs you that you're going to be a Texas Ranger."

  Carley didn't move. She didn't react. She just stood there, staring at him.

  "Did you hear me?" Sloan asked.

  She nodded, and probably because she no longer seemed too steady on her feet, she felt behind her for the sofa and then sank down onto it.

  "I can't believe it," she mumbled. "It happened. It really happened. It's a dream come true."

  Sloan released the breath he'd been holding. She still wanted to be a Ranger. That was good. He only hoped that the news would soften the blow of what he had to say next.

  "You'll have to go to training, of course," he continued. Best to focus only on the positive for now. She needed time for it to sink in and to savor it. "You won't have any trouble with the curriculum."

  Carley's eyes widened and she shook her head. "But what about my job in Justice?"

  "I've been looking into some possibilities. When your selection is officially announced, I'll let the mayor and the D.A. know that there's a deputy over in Cahill who's interested in the job."

  "Deputy Jeff Brewer," she supplied. "Yes, I know him. He's a good man."

  "And he's very interested in wearing the sheriff's badge. You won't mind handing over the reins to someo
ne else while you're fulfilling your destiny?"

  "My destiny," she repeated, still not sounding overly enthused. "Yes, I guess that is my destiny. Being a lawman 24-7."

  Carley looked up at him. Stared deeply into his eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but Sloan interrupted her. He recognized that look. She wanted to have a heart-to-heart, and he wasn't ready for that yet.

  "After your training, there's an extremely good chance that you'll be assigned to the Dallas area," he continued.

  "In your company?"

  He nodded. "It looks that way."

  She continued to stare at him. "Well, since you're not smiling and since you're obviously not happy about that, let me just go ahead and clear the air. No," she said when he tried to interrupt her again. "I can't stand tiptoeing around this."

  "I'm sorry," Sloan said because he didn't know what else to say.

  "Yeah. Well, I'm sorry, too. I could get all stoic and pretend that it doesn't matter, but it does. It matters a lot. It wasn't just sex for me, Sloan, but I understand that's all it was for you."

  It took him a moment to figure out what she was saying and another moment to remember how to speak. "What?"

  She frowned. Her stare intensified. "What do you mean what?"

  "I mean what, as in what the heck are you talking about?"

  Carley put her palms up. "I'm talking about giving you an out. You didn't have to come here to soften the blow of dumping me. A phone call would have sufficed."

  Sloan was surprised that he didn't keel over from shock. "That's not why I came here."

  "Oh, good news/bad news," she said, sarcasm lacing her voice. "It's like good cop/bad cop. Very effective with hotheads like Leland and Donna, but it isn't going to be so effective with me. Not when it comes to this subject. Just be direct. Get the dumping over with."

  "I didn't come here to dump you. I came here to tell you that I'd failed."

  Now it was Carley who looked ready to keel over from shock. "How did you fail?"

  "Are you ready for a list?" He held up one finger. "I couldn't get my mother to talk. If she knows anything, she's keeping it to herself." He lifted another finger. "My father has no alibi for the time of the explosion and isn't talking, either." A third finger went up. "And after working nonstop for the past forty-eight hours, I've made absolutely zero progress in catching this killer. I haven't even been able to find a trail for the money Donna was supposedly going to use to pay off Lou Ann."

  The seconds passed. Slowly. Crawling by. While Sloan waited for Carley to show all the frustration and anger that had to be bottled inside her.

  But it didn't exactly go down that way.

  She laughed.

  Really laughed.

  In fact, she laughed so hard there were tears in her eyes. Sloan could only stand there and look confused, because he didn't have a clue what was going on.

  "That's why you look as if you're the bearer of doom and gloom?" she asked. "Because you haven't made progress on the case?"

  "I failed to catch a killer," Sloan reminded her, poking his thumb against his chest. "A killer who keeps trying to kill you."

  "A killer who's evaded authorities for sixteen years," Carley reminded him right back. "Good grief, Sloan, I didn't expect you to come here and tell me that there'd been an arrest. That would have been nice, true, but it would have definitely been unexpected."

  Okay. That made him relax a little, but he was still confused. "So you're not upset?"

  "Not about that. But I am furious with myself for making that girlie confession about it not just being sex for me. Talk about something I'll never live down."

  Even though she was frustrated and perhaps a little embarrassed, Sloan felt himself completely relax. Finally he was no longer confused. He dragged over an ottoman and sat down across from her.

  "You know what I've been dreaming about?" he asked.

  "No." And she didn't ask about what, either. She seemed to be stewing now, and he thought he knew why.

  "I've been dreaming about sex with you," he explained. "Specifically old-fashioned, me-on-top sex. And you-on-top. Basically the positions are negotiable."

  She relaxed a little. In fact, she smiled. Not a sarcastic kind of I'm-embarrassed smile. Carley obviously liked the idea of having sex with him.

  "I've been dreaming about that, too," she admitted. "I don't suppose there'll be a problem with two Rangers having a hot, torrid sexual relationship?"

  "None whatsoever."

  Because Sloan couldn't wait, he leaned closer and kissed her. The taste of her rolled through him. It was so good that he hauled her to him and kissed her again.

  "How about good old-fashioned sofa sex?" she asked. "Is that a possibility?"

  "Definitely. In a minute."

  Carley didn't want to wait that minute. She began to unbutton his shirt.

  Sloan let her do just that while he continued. "In addition to having sex with you, I've been thinking about destiny. My destiny. Yours. Ours."

  "Uh-huh," she said as if she weren't really paying attention. That was probably because she had gotten his shirt open and was kissing his chest.

  Since it was easier to concentrate with her not doing that, Sloan opened her shirt. He found a pink silk bra that had him smiling. And he dropped some tongue kisses on the tops of her breasts. It worked. Carley made some sounds of pleasure and melted against him.

  In situations like this, hot and melted was just how he wanted her. It might make her more agreeable when he dropped the next bombshell.

  "Personally I think our destinies are on the same path," he mumbled against her right breast.

  Another mindless uh-huh. Sloan climbed onto the sofa with her, eased her onto the cushions and kissed his way down her stomach. He enjoyed himself for several moments and then he put things on hold.

  She blinked, stared at him. "Why did you stop?"

  "So I can get to the gist of this visit."

  "The gist," she repeated, making it sound very naughty. "I'll bet you know where my gist is."

  He would reward her for that naughtiness later.

  Sloan cupped her chin so they'd have eye contact. "After you finish your training and become a Ranger, I'm going to ask you to marry me. Since I'm giving you so much advance notice, you can act surprised when the moment comes."

  And he waited.

  Breath held.

  He'd sounded light enough. Even a little cocky. But he had no idea how Carley was going to take a proposal.

  "Marry you?" she questioned.

  He nodded. His air-starved lungs started to ache, but he didn't breathe. Couldn't breathe. All he could do was wait for Carley to deliver the verdict.

  "Why do you want to marry me?" she asked. Easing away from him, she sat up.

  "Good question. Easy answer. It's because it wasn't just sex for me, either. I'm in love with you."

  "You love me?" she repeated.

  Before the last word left her mouth, there were tears in her eyes. He was pretty sure they were good tears, but just in case, Sloan went back to holding his breath.

  "I love you, too," she said.

  Sloan had no doubts that she meant it, because Carley launched herself at him and kissed him as if he were, well, her destiny.

  "I mean, I really love you." Her eyes sparkled.

  Sloan had to blink back some tears of his own. This was going far better than he'd ever imagined. In fact, this was as good at it got.

  Almost.

  There was something he was still waiting to hear.

  "So let me repeat myself," he said. "When you finish your training, I'm going to ask you to marry me."

  Carley slid her arms around his neck. "And what will you do when I say yes?"

  Relieved, happy and aware that he was the luckiest man on earth, Sloan kissed her. "I'll act very surprised."

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8695-9

  TRACE EVIDENCE IN TARRANT COUNTY

  Copyright © 2007 by Delores Fossen

  Al
l rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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  Table of Contents

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen