Storm's Cage Mary Stone (classic reads .TXT) 📖

longer suppress, Amelia tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “It’s about the day that he…the day I shot him.” Her eyes darted around the room, but she forced her attention back to the SAC before she continued. “I thought I saw him take a step in my direction. I’d told him twice, at least twice, to drop his weapon and not to move. I told him I’d fire if he moved, but…well, I don’t know. I could have sworn I saw him move toward me, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe I imagined it.”

Lacing her fingers together, SAC Keaton nodded for Amelia to continue.

Wringing both hands in her lap, Amelia finally allowed her gaze to drop. “I’m not trying to make an excuse, and I was honest when I gave my testimony at the hearing after. I thought I was in danger, and I thought I saw him move. But the more I remember it, the less I’m sure that’s how it happened.”

A silence enveloped the room, only broken by the faint honk of geese in the distance. Inch by agonizing inch, Amelia returned her eyes to SAC Keaton.

She expected a frown, a look of contemplation, or a glare. Instead, the SAC’s focus was fixed on one of two monitors at the corner of her desk.

Great. She was already starting the paperwork to ask for Amelia’s resignation or send her to prison. Maybe she’d already emailed the U.S. Attorney to request their presence for a special indictment.

SAC Keaton’s concentrated expression gave way to a reassuring smile as she turned back to Amelia. “I’ve actually been meaning to give you an update on that. I heard from the U.S. Attorney a couple days ago, but to be honest, it hadn’t been high on my priority list, given everything else that’s been going on. If I’d known that it was bothering you, I would’ve gotten word to you sooner.”

Is Jasmine Keaton enjoying this? Is that why she looks so pleased?

Amelia dug her nails into her palm. “What update?”

“Well, as you know, the girl who was in the room with you and Dalessio was unharmed, at least physically.” SAC Keaton turned one of her monitors to show Amelia an image of the girl.

“Yanira.” The word was a reverent whisper from Amelia’s lips.

“That’s right. She survived that night, but so did another girl.” SAC Keaton pulled up another picture. “Hazel Pomales. Hazel is the niece of one of our best witnesses, Ava Fernandez. Ava told the U.S. Attorney that Dalessio had threatened to rape the girl, but Ava had made a bargain with him. Essentially, Ava took her niece’s spot. She was repeatedly assaulted by Carlo until your team took down the operation.”

As much as Amelia wanted to ask what Ava’s experience had to do with Alton Dalessio, she remained silent.

“In addition to statements from Ava and Hazel, Yanira has been working with a child psychiatrist who has been helping her with a comprehensive court submissible statement.” SAC Keaton’s pleased expression brightened further as she lifted a finger. “Which includes the confrontation with Alton Dalessio. According to Yanira’s testimony, Dalessio not only took a step in your direction, he’d lifted the weapon held in his hand too. The girl was scared to death that he was going to kill you, but you fired first.”

Amelia blinked.

For weeks, she’d convinced herself that she’d acted based on her instincts and her gut feeling. Neither was admissible in a courtroom, just like Joseph had not-so-subtly reminded her.

Had she fallen asleep in her car again? Was this turning into another nightmare?

She squeezed her hand and almost winced at the sharp bite of her fingernails. No. This was real.

Jasmine’s voice pulled Amelia out of the haze of disbelief. “Yanira’s testimony also indicates that Agent Larson wasn’t in the room when the shot was fired. I’m not sure if she just didn’t see him or if he’s the one misremembering what happened.”

“Oh,” Amelia said. “Oh. Okay.” She sounded like a caveman, but she didn’t care.

SAC Keaton lifted a shoulder. “If there’s one thing I learned during all my years in the field, it’s that memory can be spot-on, or it can be completely wrong, especially in a high-stress situation like that. Don’t worry, Storm.” Another warm smile spread over her face. “We all second-guess ourselves sometimes. I appreciate your honesty, but I never doubted that you did the right thing.”

Tears welled in the corners of Amelia’s eyes. She wanted to both cry in relief and reach across the desk to hug SAC Keaton. But Keaton wasn’t really the hugging type, especially not in the office. Straightening her back, Amelia did her best to return the SAC’s kind expression without tears spilling over her cheeks. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

SAC Keaton studied her closely. “Now, you look like you haven’t slept in a damn week. The Marshals are handling Russel Ulmer now, and Cliff Allworth is locked up as snug as a bug in solitary. I know you’ve got some paperwork to fill out, but it can wait until after the weekend. Take a half day, or a full day, and get some rest.”

The tension Amelia had been holding onto eased, and her relief came out as a soft chuckle. “I think that might be just what I need. I’ll swing by and see where Palmer is before I call it a day.”

“Perfect. Let me know if you guys need anything. Take care, Agent Storm, and have a good weekend.”

As Joseph Larson stepped off the elevator, he looked to the figure of a woman as she emerged from the hallway to his right—the hall that led to the office of the Special Agent in Charge. Her hair was pulled back in the same neat ponytail he saw almost every day, and her eyes were fixed on the smartphone in her hand.

Until she spotted him.

The fires of indignance flickered to life as she straightened. She pulled her gaze away, but Joseph slowed his pace to study her expression.

He’d