Page 18 of Fatal Vision

The thought made Jack stand a little taller, as if he could somehow protect Shelby by his sheer mass.

“Which is exactly why you haven’t let me go home yet,” Shelby said to him. “I’ve made good progress and I’d be fine on my own with a caregiver, but you’re afraid whoever shot me will come after me again. I’m safer here, right?”

Jack and Martha exchanged a look.

Yep, as always, Shelby could read them like a book.

She could always do the same with Colton too, but that went both ways. The truth hit him right in the solar plexus as it dawned on him why she’d really wanted to talk to him.

“I was a sniper,” he said. “I know how the man thinks, how he operates. Shelby asked me here to pick my brain.”

“You already tried to find the shooter,” Jack reminded him. “You failed.”

Failed. The dragon inside his chest flared its nostrils.

God, he hated that word.

Shelby trembled, from stress or irritation, he couldn’t be sure. Probably both. It had to kill her not to have control over her body or this situation. “The local police and the FBI failed,too, Daddy, and they had extensive resources that Colton didn’t. The guy is good. A ghost in the wind.”

Ingram had the good manners to look at the floor at the mention that he and his precious Bureau hadn’t found the shooter either.

Alicia returned with two security guards who started to shove their way inside. “Sir,” she said to Colton. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“He’s not leaving,” Shelby ground out. “The rest of you are.”

It took another minute of arguing and grumbling, but finally everyone left, including the therapist and security detail. Shelby insisted to Ingram she was too tired now to talk and that she would call him later. She asked him to leave the file he had in-hand; he refused on grounds that it was confidential FBI information.

After the room was once more quiet and empty, Shelby crumpled into her wheelchair. Salisbury jumped into her lap, and she absentmindedly petted him. “I can’t believe them sometimes.”

That was an understatement. “Your mom and dad mean well.”

“I know, which is why I feel guilty when I get mad at them, but lordy, they wear me out.”

Colton dropped onto the bed across from her again, feeling pretty wrung out himself. He leaned his elbows on his knees and supported his head in his hands. “What’s this about me being a suspect in a case?”

“Before this all went down, I was working on a case involving several veterans who were shot and killed. I found what I thought might be a link between them and I wanted your help. I just can’t quite remember why I insisted on meeting with you that night. I mean, why didn’t I just call and explain the case?”

He had no answer. “You texted and said to meet you at the house asap. You must not have wanted to discuss it over the phone.”

A shaky hand rubbed at her scar. “There are these gaps in my memory about that day. I don’t remember texting you or even going to the house. I’ve seen a psychologist to help me handle the trauma, but nothing about that day has surfaced yet. The doctors say it may never emerge, or it could all come back tomorrow. Anyway, Theo must have gotten clearance from the doctors to question me about it today.”

“Why did you think I could help?”

She hesitated and shrugged. “Guess we have to find out.”

“How are we going to do that if Ingram has your file?”

“I have a backup in my safe at home.”

Ah ha. “Another reason you want me to bust you out of here.”

She gave him a half-hearted smile. “Returning to the scene of the shooting is imperative, even if I’m not excited about what it might bring up, and I wasn’t lying about wanting to get out of here.”

“Pretty swanky place. Three squares and a private room. It may not be beauty queen fancy, but it’s not bad.”

She flipped him the bird at the beauty queen reference. “You’re not going to talk me into staying.”

Same old Shelby. “You are currently at my mercy. Try to remember that.”