Page 19 of Ultimate Justice

Marlie glanced to where she’d parked June Bug, her 1956 Ford F-100. Tish’s suggestion had her leg muscles twitching with the urge to hop into June Bug and punch it down the street before McGarry showed up.

The man was very persuasive, knowing just what things to touch on that could make her abandon the safety of her invisible world. The children. Their parents. If she could do something to help safeguard even one child and prevent their parents from having to endure the horrors she had, it was finally time she got off her sorry ass and did it. And how could she abandon Noah?

She stared into her coffee, part of her still wishing she were somewhere else. Anywhere else. “I’m scared.”

“I know that.” Tish leaned closer and clasped Marlie’s hand. “We’ve talked about this. Maybe it’s time to shake things up a little.”

She sighed, sounding pathetically weary even to herself. “Even if Agent McGarry does, by some miracle, manage to work his legal magic, I don’t have space for Noah. I live in a tiny, two-bedroom apartment with only one bed, a sofa, and an old futon.”

Tish sat back with a huff. “Then I’ll tell Noah he’ll be staying at Kids Corner until child services can find him a new foster family. You could still be with him when the FBI wants to talk to him again.”

“I know.”

Last night, she’d been on her computer for hours, digging up every state inspection report and review she could find on Kids Corner, the Colorado Springs facility Noah would have to stay at if she didn’t go through with the FBI’s plan. The thought of him being stuck in a home, even one with as good of a reputation as Kids Corner, had left her feeling so miserable she’d barely eaten a thing since lunch yesterday. In angry protest, her stomach growled.

“You have to decide soon,” Tish said. “Kids Corner is picking him up today at one.”

“What?” She straightened, bumping the table and sloshing coffee from her cup. “No, they can’t! I need more time.” Or did she? Not really. No. She didn’t want him to go there. Somehow, the realization had come to her with decided clarity. “I don’t want him to go to a home, but how can I care for another child when I couldn’t even safeguard my own? God, Tish. What am I doing?”

Tish paused a beat before answering, then smiled. “Making the decision to live again.”

A dark red Expedition parked at the curb in front of June Bug in the zone that said, No Parking Here to Corner. A man stepped out, so tall that his head was visible over the roof of the SUV.

FBI Special Agent Evan McGarry.

“He’s here,” she whispered, watching him round the hood, a phone pressed to his ear. Seemed like he did that a lot, like it was another appendage.

“He certainly is.” Tish smirked. “He’s even hunkier than I remembered.”

“If you say so.” Liar. She’d noticed, all right. Even in her distraught frame of mind the other night, it had been impossible not to see how handsome the man was.

“I do say that. Trust me. You just haven’t thought of men since the divorce. Maybe it’s time to change that, too.”

Still talking into the phone, Agent McGarry stepped onto the curb. If she was going to bail, now was the time, but she couldn’t look away.

He wore the same kind of clothes he’d worn two nights ago—black cargo pants and a black long-sleeve shirt with a gold badge embroidered on his chest, a very broad, thickly muscled one at that. His shirt sleeves were shoved up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms, and the same mean-looking holstered gun was strapped to his belt.

Other people—women and men—sitting at the other tables turned their heads. Okay, so Tish was right. The guy wasn’t hard on the eyes. It was like watching a living, breathing museum sculpture, one with a cell phone glued to its ear.

A frown creased his forehead, then he stuffed the phone in his back pocket and reached for the rear passenger door. McGarry’s German shepherd, Blue, leaped out just as the agent hooked a leash on the dog’s collar. Even the man’s dog was big.

He started toward them, pausing a few seconds to give June Bug a once-over. Her old pickup tended to garner attention wherever it was parked.

“Ms. Foxe. Ms. Torres.” He remained standing, forcing Marlie to crane her neck. Blue wagged his tail, nosing her hand until she gave his head a pat. “I have something for you.” He tugged two sets of folded papers from his thigh pocket, handing each of them a set. “You’ve been granted temporary legal guardianship of Noah Lund. Thirty days, with an option to extend as needed.”

“But I didn’t sign anything.” Her hand trembled as she took the papers. When he’d said expedite, she hadn’t really believed him. “I haven’t even been interviewed.”

“I told you this case is a priority.” He pointed to one of the vacant chairs, and Blue hopped up, seating himself like a person. “The judge understood the need for exigency. And,” he added with the hint of a smile that softened the sculpted leanness of his features, “I vouched for you.”

“How could you vouch for me? You don’t even know me.” Oh God. Of course, he did. He was the FBI. In the last two days, he’d done his homework. Which meant… He knew everything.

“Thank you,” Tish said as she began reading the documents.

Marlie stared at the folded sheets, half expecting them to lash out and bite her. To her surprise, McGarry didn’t say anything else. Somehow, he knew there was a lot more to this than just paperwork, and he was letting her make the final decision. Once she did, there was no going back.

In his gaze was patience and an unexpected gentleness. She lost track of how many seconds ticked by. Finally, she took a deep, supremely unsteady breath. She unfolded the documents and started to read what McGarry was offering.

Guardianship of an eleven-year-old boy.