Page 7 of Fatal Vision
Welcome home. She’d ended up back in Good Hope, working a serial murder case.
Making sure her legs were balanced, she took one hand off the walker and pointed at the folder Theo had under his arm. The man who’d shot her was still on the loose. “Mug shots?”
His smile faded. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”
“You can use my office,” Alicia volunteered a little too quickly.
“How gracious of you.” Another Theo megawatter, this time at Alicia, and Shelby thought her physical therapist might melt through the floor. “We only need a few minutes, and then I’ll give Shelby back to you.”
Alicia practically giggled. “It’s not a problem. I’ll show you the way.”
Shelby’s father kissed her cheek. “Want me to carry you, sweetheart?”
The last thing Shelby wanted was for her dad to carry her in front of all these people, especially the ASAC. “Thanks, Daddy, but I’ll use my chair.”
As Alicia showed Theo out of the gym, Jack grabbed the electric wheelchair and helped Shelby into it. “I’ve created a whole month of sermons on miracles, Shel. I’ll be taping the first this weekend for my Revival subscribers. I’d like for you to be there.”
“You know I love being paraded in front of your flock and used as a prop for your sermons.”
“Really? You’ll do it?”
Was he serious? “We talked about this. You can’t discuss what happened to me—it’s an ongoing case and the shooter is still out there. Plus, I don’t want you making my job with the Bureau national news. No one needs to know outside of our family. It could ruin my work.”
“You’d be perfectly safe at the church,” her father said, lowering his voice as he wheeled her along, refusing to let her do it herself. “And you can’t honestly think you’re going back to work for the FBI, do you?”
Shelby whirled in her chair to look up at him. “Of course, I am.”
He sighed dramatically as he pushed her through the open door into Alicia’s office lined with windows so Alicia could keep an eye on all the patients and physical therapists in the rehab area. On the walls hung her various degrees, along with pictures of all of her rich and famous clientele. Football players, track stars, actors; they came here to receive star treatment while recuperating from debilitating injuries in secret. After all, who would come to Oklahoma if they wanted to actually be seen?
This was her dad’s kind of place, which was probably one of the reasons he’d insisted on the 18-bed Premiere Physical Therapy Clinic for Shelby’s recovery, once she came out of her coma. Three chef-created meals a day, around-the-clock nurses and therapists, and interior design straight out ofElle Decormagazine.
Nothing but the best for his little girl.
Except, she wasn’t little anymore, and she hated all this extravagance. She wanted to go home, be in her own house, and do what most people did—go to therapy once or twice a week.
Unfortunately, she could barely walk, much less drive. She certainly wasn’t able to live on her own yet—her place wasn’t equipped for a wheelchair by any stretch of the imagination. Plus, with the killer still running loose, she’d need round-the-clock bodyguards. The thought made her shudder.
“I’ll see you later, honey.” Her dad tousled her hair like she was a toddler instead of a twenty-eight-year-old woman. “I hope you’ll reconsider doing the show with me. You can at least come for the taping. Daniel will be there.”
When pigs fly.Especially if Daniel Mitchum was there.
The junior pastor was a little too happy whenever Shelby was around, and her mother had already dropped multiple hints about how much it would mean to them if Shelby married a preacher. Daniel, who taught at the Bible College and assisted her father with his flock, was a win-win in their book.
“Bye, Dad.”
Alicia gave Shelby and Theo a small wave and closed the door behind her as she walked Shelby’s dad out.
Theo, thankfully, dispensed with his charm and got right down to business, setting the folder on the desk and leaning on the edge. He crossed his feet at the ankles and made a big deal out of cleaning his glasses. “I’m sorry to interrupt your therapy, but it is good to see you up and walking.”
“I’m getting stronger every day.
In the past three months, his crow’s feet had deepened. There were a few strands of grey in his dark hair. “Have you remembered anything from the night of the shooting?”
“I would have called you if I had. I don’t think I saw the shooter, if that’s what you want to know. If I did, I can’t remember him.” Curiosity ate at her. “What’s in the file?”
His face was inscrutable. “This is the case you were working on when you were shot. Thought maybe you should take a look at it and see if anything jumps out at you.”
“Do you have any leads on the gunman?”
