Page 65 of Shane

Tuesday’s hand on Everlee’s shoulder was all that shut her up. “Trust me, Everlee. I’ve photographed thousands of people all over the world, and in my job, I’ve seen true love up close enough times to recognize it. I’ve seen it in the middle of famine, warfare, battle, and peace. It’s more a feeling than talk. It’s actions, not words. It’s him going back inside this barn to do whatever he thinks he has to do to make sure you don’t. Love is stepping up to be more than you ever thought you could be. Sometimes, it’s simply showing up, not saying anything, just being there for someone. That man adores you. It’s written all over his face, but especially in his eyes. Don’t you see it? I sure do.”

Everlee had no idea what to say. So she grunted because, well, grunting was kind of an answer, wasn’t it? Not a denial, not exactly affirmation, either.

But Tuesday had just confirmed everything Everlee had felt in Shane’s arms. He’d become important to her in a brand-new, exciting, and unexpected way. If this was love, and even if it wasn’t, she wanted to see what happened next between them.

But she was still afraid to take that risk. What divorced woman wouldn’t be? That realization astounded Everlee. There was a day—like yesterday—when she wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone. Wouldn’t admit it, didn’t consider it a conceivable option. But now? Getting close to this guy, only to wake up some day and find out he’d stepped out on her? That he’d played her, only needed a good time, short time fuck buddy?

No. Way. She refused to go through that again. And yet...

Like the temptress it could be, her tongue traced her sore bottom lip, still searching after the deliciousness of Shane’s mouth. She smoothed her fingers over the tenderized abrasions his passionate kiss had left on her chin and lips. Her buttocks remembered how it felt having his hands in charge of her body, his big, capable fingers gripping her ass as if he’d never let her go. Her core heated with need.

If this strange new feeling was love, she wanted more of it. But fear of failure had planted itself firmly in her way, and for the first time in her life, Everlee didn’t know what to do.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“I killed them,” Shane explained honestly to Alex from where he’d crouched alongside the hefty body of the dead man he’d dragged into the barn. He’d hoped to speak with Mark or Sasha, but got his boss. “They meant to kill Everlee, so I killed them first. No identification on any of these three guys. Sending mugshots and fingerprints now.” He texted the two pictures he’d already taken, along with two sets of blackened fingerprint cards from the kit he carried. “Will send the third set as soon as I’m done. But Everlee said some woman’s in charge, not these guys. She heard her order them to kill her.”

“How’s Ev? She hurt?”

Shane twisted his neck and stared at the closed barn door behind him. “A little banged up is all. Tuesday’s taking care of her right now. They’re outside the barn. I didn’t want them anywhere near these dead bastards.”

“Good call. How about you?”

“I’m good.” Said every man ever.

What surprised Shane was Alex hadn’t asked why Tuesday was taking care of Everlee. Instead, he said, almost casually, “Tuesday, huh?”

“Yeah, Tuesday. She’s not who the FBI said she is. They’re wrong, totally off-base. After the SUV rolled, she stayed with the wreck, Boss. With me. I was unconscious, still hung-up in my seatbelt. She got me out of the SUV and dragged me away from it. She could’ve run. Most criminals would’ve, but she stayed, also gave credible intel on Everlee’s condition and which direction these jackasses went. So I need you to double-check her prints, too. Make sure we’ve got the real Tuesday Smart.” He dipped into his rear pocket for his wallet and pulled out the card with the prints from the water bottle she’d tossed in the garbage the night before at Smoke’s.

“She know why they took Ev? She hear anything?”

“No, Tuesday was still hung up in her seatbelt when they touched down. She wasn’t close enough to hear anything before they took off with Ev. But Everlee said the woman behind the kidnapping was pissed at these three for taking the wrong woman.”

“Not professionals then.”

“Not even close. These three jerks look like wannabe thugs, all dressed up in identical black suits, packing plenty of muscle, but no brains. Found two Dirty Harry specials, knives, and knuckle gloves on them. Their boss is framing Ms. Smart. I’m almost sure of it.”

There was a quiet grunt from Virginia, as if Alex were thinking. “But why impersonate Tuesday? Is that what you’re thinking? That the woman behind Ev’s abduction and all these false accusations intentionally set up Tuesday Smart? That this mystery woman deliberately assumed Tuesday Smart’s appearance, which means plastic surgery, to frame the real Tuesday Smart?”

Well, since you put it like that…Shane wasn’t sure what to think. Other than he believed the real Tuesday Smart was the woman sitting outside the barn with Everlee. He’d never have left Everlee if he hadn’t believed Tuesday. And believed in her.

“Sounds crazy, I know,” he admitted.

“Think about what you’re saying,” Alex said. “To get away with everything she’s done, the woman you’re accusing would have to look exactly like Tuesday. Yet it’s definitely Tuesday Smart’s signature on her marriage certificate with Atchison Bremmer. Every medical file for those two dead children, from their birth certificates to their well-baby doctor visits, supports the FBI’s evidence that the woman you’re protecting killed her husband and her kids. It’s her face in that hallway security footage. When her little boy had to have tubes put in his ears, Tuesday Bremmer, the woman you’re protecting, signed for the procedure. She had to provide proper identification at the hospital. They have her face on their security footage, too. It’s not just that the FBI is hard set to arrest Ms. Smart, Shane. It’s that they have rock solid evidence she’s a killer.”

“Then you’d better check those signatures against this Tuesday’s handwriting, Alex. Because I’m telling you, the woman who killed Mr. Bremmer and those kids is not this Tuesday Smart. Trust me. I’m not wrong.”

A grunt came across the connection. “You honestly believe someone who looks exactly like Tuesday Smart is who we should be after. Is that right? If you believe Smart, the woman in your custody, then you also believe an unknown mystery woman, the same one who had Everlee kidnapped, killed Lamb, Bremmer, and the… the others.”

Shane caught the hesitation in Alex’s last two words. Which was interesting for a man as driven as he was. It was a tell, an unconscious outward signal that Alex had, or knew someone, who had prior experience with other child murders. But that was a mystery for another day.

He answered his boss with a loud and clear, “Yes. Absolutely. I believe the Tuesday Smart in my custody. She is not a killer, and she did not murder Atchison Bremmer or his kids. Whoever the real murderer is, she has a hard-on for Tuesday, else why destroy her life like she has?”

“Not a serial killer, though.”

“No, more like a woman who’s obsessed. Someone who believes with a frightening intensity that she’s been slighted. I don’t know why or how. Maybe it’s jealousy. Fake Tuesday Smart is pissed that the real Tuesday Smart married Frederick Lamb. Fake Tuesday Smart planned on being his wife.”

“But the woman with you and Ev didn’t really marry Mr. Lamb, did she? Not like a wife marries her real husband.”