Page 88 of Shane
“Hear what?” he asked respectfully. After Everlee’s out-of-the-blue question earlier, he was more aware of her insecurities. Tuesday might be gorgeous, but she was nothing compared to the imp with the tousled, copper hair beside her. Shane wasn’t a hair, butt, or boob guy. He was Everlee’s guy. End of story.
“I’m going to be onSixty Minutes!” Tuesday gushed. “With my friend, Robert Freiburg. He knows one of the producers. We’ll be two of six experts on a discussion panel about climate change. Isn’t that great?”
“Congratulations!” Everlee crowed. “You know what you’re talking about. You’ll be perfect, girlfriend.”
Shane eased back in his seat and relaxed at that one word:Girlfriend.Special praise for Everlee to tell anyone.
He’d read up on Adult Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder while Ev had been in the hospital and at home sleeping. He now knew she’d had to really work at everything she’d ever accomplished. That she’d always have trouble focusing, reading, and spelling, which made simple everyday things like listening to spoken instructions, writing after-action reports for Alex, even running simple mathematical equations in her head, extremely difficult. Which also meant she’d struggled in high school, then had fought extra-hard to become an Air Force officer. It had been tough for her to fit in with the guys and gals on The TEAM, the ones she wanted most to impress. It also explained why she’d been sitting alone that night at the Stewarts’ impromptu dinner picnic, why she’d closed herself off. It explained her inability to restrain her reactions, like the day she’d spit coffee in his face, then called him ‘big guy’, and demanded he eat lunch with her, that she was buying. He’d found her cute but annoying. Her boundless energy and attention, all of it aimed solely at him, had been uncomfortable—then.
Not anymore. One only had to look into Everlee’s brown eyes to see the sincerity that suffused every word she said and every thought that flittered through her mind. Yes, she was impulsive, prone to act without thinking, and semi-disorganized. But she was no dummy. She was smart enough to understand her limitations, and because she did, she directed every last ounce of her boundless energy into being all she could be despite them. That said a lot about her. Because everything good in her life had come extra-hard for her, Everlee took nothing for granted.
It also told Shane how strong she was, that she’d never given up. That she’d set higher goals than most airmen, and that Alex probably knew these same things about Everlee. That he’d chosen well the day he’d hired her. Or at least the day he’d approved Murphy Finnegan hiring Ev. Shane hadn’t yet met Mr. Finnegan. Murphy was still in Ireland. Shane didn’t know why. But he did wish he were sitting beside Everlee. She needed someone to hold her. To love her and always have her six. Because even among friends, he knew damned well that she still felt alone. He caught her eye and winked to let her know that he saw her. That he adored her.
She shrugged and smiled back.
“Mother figured out how Astor tracked Tuesday,” Heston said nonchalantly.
Shane shook his emotions about Everlee off for the time being and asked, “Yeah? How?”
“The old battleax. Watch this, Ev.” Tuesday leaned into Everlee’s biceps with her cell phone, dabbed at the screen, and brought up a video clip from somewhere noisy. “Mother found it. See Astor? Right there, walking beside me. We were inside DFW’s concourse. I was on my way to Montreal to meet Robert. He went with me on my first flight into the Arctic. Don’t have a clue where Astor was headed.”
Everlee squinted and pursed her lips, her neck stretched forward and her countenance one of serious concentration. Everything she did now humbled Shane. He finally understood how hard his woman had to focus just to watch a video. Just to keep up with the direction this friendly conversation was going.
She blinked. “Did that bitch just stab you? With a knife?”
“You saw it, too, huh?” Heston asked.
“No, but it sure looked like she did, didn’t it,” Tuesday replied. “I mean, that thing in her hand was shiny, but…” She thumbed her cell phone screen and—
“She hit you with a hypo?” Everlee growled. Tuesday must’ve enlarged the screen.
“That’s how she injected a tracking device into your arm,” Shane breathed. “That’s how she did it.”
“Yup!” Tuesday replied with a big smile and plenty of gusto. “I remember feeling the pinch, but it happened so fast that I never thought twice about it. I mean, honestly, who would’ve thought anyone would do something like that?”
“That’s how she knew where we were in Little Rock,” Ev said.
“Are we certain she couldn’t locate Tuesday inside Smoke’s underground bunker?”
Heston nodded. “Mother already ran diagnostics on all Alex’s safe places, Smoke’s included. There’s no way Astor knew where Tuesday was that night.”
“Good. But why?” Everlee asked. “Why track and try to kill Tuesday? Hell, why kill anyone?”
“Greed maybe,” Shane replied. “Greed, revenge, and love are the three top motivators for most crimes of passion.”
“Don’t forget crazy. Astor was psychotic as hell,” Tuesday added.
“Not psychotic,” he said thoughtfully. “A psychotic is someone who’s lost their grip on reality. It’s not their fault they’re sick. They need to be taken off the streets and cared for in safe facilities. But Astor was different. She was simply a stone-cold psychopath. She was intelligent, not impaired. She knew precisely what she was doing, and she deliberately planned—for more than five years—to murder her own children, her biological offspring, for hell’s sake. Psychosis and psychopathy are two very different things. People like Astor have no feelings, no empathy. That’s why she thought she could just waltz into Freddie’s condo and kill him. I’m sorry, Tuesday. I know that brings up hard memories. Do we know what was in that gift bag of hers yet, Heston?”
“Ever hear of Batrachotoxin?”
Shane shook his head. “No, sniper here, remember? Not chemist. Ask me about high-velocity rounds, the HVTs I took down, not poisons.”
“Same here,” Heston agreed. “But the ME who performed the second autopsy on Mr. Lamb found traces of Batrachotoxin in his system, also inside the velvet lining of that fake book. An amount as small as two grains of Batrachotoxin will kill an adult. It affects the heart the same as coronary arrest, which is why the first autopsy concluded massive heart attack. The FBI has no idea how much she put inside that book, not like it matters now. Within seconds of simply touching Batrachotoxin, it causes fibrillation and arrhythmia, instantaneous cardiac failure.”
Shane turned his attention to Tuesday. “How are you handling what happened in Little Rock?”
“She’s as steady as a rock,” Heston replied. Shane didn’t miss the pride in his voice.