Page 92 of Fatal Vision
Chapter Seventeen
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EVEN IN HERcompromised state, Shelby was no one to mess with. Colton smiled as people moved out of her way.
Of course, she was leading a small gang down that hospital hallway that included two former SEALs, an FBI agent, an ex-spy, and a woman with purple streaks in her hair and enough attitude for all of them.
Shelby was as dirty and dusty as Colton, the rip in her leggings revealing the stitches in her leg as she walked. But her head was up, her eyes lit with determination. She’d been face to face with the killer and it was driving her nuts that she couldn’t figure out who he was.
Colton dittoed the feeling. He’d tried to rip the guy’s mask off. Hell, his bloody head too.
If only I could have seen the bastard’s face.
Or broken his neck.
A young medical intern walking with a group of his peers, gave Shelby a second glance. “Hey, you can’t have dogs in here.”
Jaya curled her lip at him. “Mind your own damn business.”
At the same time Colton and Shelby both said, “He’s a therapy dog.”
Jaya and Shelby high-fived each other and Zeb hit the button on the elevator as the intern and his group kept moving.
Wise people.
Jon Wolfe—the latest addition to Colton’s personal team—held the door as the rest of them shuffled on. It took some jockeying to get everyone inside with Shelby’s walker.
As soon as the doors closed and the elevator began to rise, Shelby turned to him. “So what do we know about the bomb?”
God, she was so…Shelby. Exhausted, injured, worried as all get-out, and had just had the side of her house blown in, yet here she was ready to get down to business.
He loved that about her, even though part of him wanted to kidnap her and take her far, far away from the danger. “The bomb was a simple C4 explosive placed inside the bed of my truck and set off with a remote detonator.”
“Am I allowed to hear this?” Jaya’s gaze bounced between Shelby and Agent Feldon.
Feldon nodded and Shelby leaned her back against the elevator wall, rubbing Salisbury’s ear. “Our serial killer is a sniper, not a bomb maker. It doesn’t make sense.”
“He wanted to take you all out at once,” Jon’s words were barely above a murmur. “And he wanted it messy.”
His gaze was locked on the elevator buttons, but from the reflection in the panel, Colton could tell he was seeing something else—from his time in the field as a SEAL. Colton recognized that haunted expression. Most vets had it.
“I saw this movie once,” Jaya volunteered, “where there were two serial killers working together. One liked to keep his targets at a distance, like hunting big game, so he’d shoot the victims but not kill them. His partner was a woman and she got to play with the victim for a while—she liked to use knives.”
“What kind of movies have you been watching?” Shelby shook her head, then sighed. “Serial killer teams are nothing new, so I guess itisa possibility that we’re dealing with more than one.”
None of them liked that idea. The elevator dinged and let them out on the surgical floor. They found Connor in the waiting area.
He was pacing the otherwise empty room as they entered, his teeth gritting so hard a muscle did jumping jacks in his cheek. A large lump had risen on his forehead and his gaze bounced over all of them. He nodded at Jon, accepting a handshake and backslap. “Nickelback, good to see you,” he said, using Jon’s codename.
Zeb pulled him into a manly embrace. “How is she?”
Connor had to swallow hard before he could answer, his gaze glued to the tile floor. “No news yet. She’s been in there for nearly three hours. It’s making me fucking crazy.”
Colton knew that helpless feeling. The absolute raw terror it invoked when it came to the woman you loved. He’d paced this exact same waiting room the night Shelby had been shot.
Grabbing his friend’s arm, he dragged him to a chair. Regardless of whether Connor needed to sit down or not, Colton did. If only it didn’t hurt. “She’s strong,” he told Connor. “A fighter. She’s going to make it.”
