Colton made a motion for her to put the woman on speaker.
She didn’t. “Any distinguishing features on the man’s face, like a mole, a scar, facial hair?”
“Why are you asking me this? Don’t you have the picture?”
No, she didn’t, but she was about to go hunting for it. “Is there anything about that picture, about the man, that stuck out to you?”
“I told you, Agent Claiborne, I can’t help you. Find my husband’s killer. Then we can talk.”
The line went dead.
Colton was unwrapping the box of candy. He helped himself to a chocolate and tossed one to the dog.
“You shouldn’t give dogs chocolate.” Shelby tried not to stare at him. “It’s bad for them.”
“Seriously?” He reached down, snagged the dog, and through much growling, managed to remove the candy from Salisbury’s mouth. “Sorry, mutt. Apparently, you can’t have the good stuff.”
Colton’s brown eyes came up to meet hers. He was grinning, but his grin faded the moment he saw her face. “Shel, what is it? Was that Wyatt’s wife? Who were you asking her about?”
Shelby swallowed the fear nestling in her throat. “I think it’s you, Colton.”
“INEED Alist of my missions,” Colton said to Beatrice.
He was outside with Salisbury again, staring off at the wheat field. So many seasons here, so many times he’d seen wheat growing out there, big rolls of it during harvest.
Salisbury didn’t have to pee, Colton just needed a minute to himself. It wasn’t every day you were accused of murder.
And here he’d thought they’d cleared that up, and the only reason his profile sheet and picture were in Shelby’s file was because he was a source.
What a day.
“What missions exactly?”
“The dates and locations of all the missions I worked, both when I was in the service and during my time with SFI.”
He couldn’t believe he was saying this. Asking for verification of his alibis on the dates Evers, Edmonton, and Bard were killed.
Shelby hadn’t accused him of anything while they’d eaten lunch, or even hinted that this new info from Lori Evers pointed at him.
But it did. He could see her brilliant mind rejecting the idea, and yet, she would have to follow up on it. Any and every lead. Especially since she didn’t know why she’d taken a picture of him to show Lori Evers.
If itwashim.
Goddamn Ingram could have easily cleared that up if he’d brought the fucking files and just shared everything. The guy hadn’t even picked up his voicemail.
“That’s classified information,” Beatrice said, bringing Colton back to the present.
“Have Rory get it.”
“I mean about SFI. Yes, Rory can get hold of classified military documents, but I’m not handing over information about your SFI missions to anyone.”
Really? He hadn’t expected pushback about that. “I need to prove to Shel—the FBI—that I have an alibi for several dates.”
“Analibi?”
For once, he’d caught Beatrice by surprise.
“Colton, what is going on?”