“Thanks. Any word from the doctors yet?”

“Nothing. Greg was gettin’ on my nerves and that FBI jackoff keeps eyeballin’ me in a way I don’t particularly care for.”

I drop my gaze to his bloodstained knuckles. “Might want to wash your hands.” No doubt that’s the blood of Martin Suggs, and the last thing we need is Jackson getting ideas to examine Jiggy or something.

He huffs a laugh. “Good point.”

I copy Lynn’s flight information and hand it to him. Next on my list is a phone call to Z.

“You all right, brother?” he answers right away.

“Yeah. At the hospital, waiting for news about Shelby now.” I share a brief outline of what happened, leaving out the extra-incriminating details.

“Give me the address of the hospital. I’ll send it to Dex. Last time they checked in with me, they weren’t far from you guys.”

I have to find the nurse’s station to locate something with an address and recite it to Z.

“Got it,” he says.

We talk for a few more minutes, but there’s not a lot I can say with so many people around. I think Z understands that.

Finally, we hang up and I return to where Greg and Trent are waiting. “Any news?”

“They’re running tests. Trying to eliminate different things,” Greg answers. He cocks his head and stares up at me. “How did you find her?”

I take the chair next to him, leaning back and stretching my legs out, resting one ankle over the other. “You really don’t want to know.”

I close my eyes and immediately drift into an uncomfortable sleep state. Aware of the sounds and activity around me but since none of it has to do with Shelby, I’m unable to open my eyes or give a shit.

At some point, I pick up Agent Jackson’s voice, speaking in low tones to Greg.

I crack open one eye and listen to Greg whine about the bad publicity for a few seconds before Jackson realizes I’m awake.

“We need to speak.” He jerks his head toward the hallway.

“Do we?” I ask in a lazy tone, adding in a yawn.

He scowls and glares at me. I follow him into the hallway, and together we trudge over to a window overlooking the parking lot.

“Did Shelby say anything when you found her?” he asks.

“No.” My fists clench and my throat tightens. “She was unconscious. We almost didn’t find her.” I haven’t stopped thinking about what would’ve happened if we hadn’t looked under the bed. If I’d believed Martin’s story about her not being at the cabin.

“I got a look at the cage under the bed. Fucking sick.”

Unable to form any words, I nod.

“How did you know where to look for her? And don’t fucking get cute with me this time.”

“What’s wrong? You mad your guys didn’t figure it out faster?”

He swoops in, getting way too up close and personal for my taste. “You realize it could look like you orchestrated the whole thing, right? Maybe Shelby needed some extra publicity—”

“Fuck you.” I shove him out of my face. “That’s bullshit. She’s in the hospital. No one can figure out—” My voice breaks. “I’d never do anything to hurt her,” I finish in a quieter tone.

“Maybe you hired someone and he got carried away.”

“No wonder the Feds are so fucking useless. This the caliber of your investigation skills? Or are you just bottom of the barrel?” I lean down in his face. “That why Ice has you dancing on his hook?”

He ignores the taunt. “Then tell me.”

I glare at him for a few seconds. “Club has…lawyer friends. I don’t know the details but one suggested we look for other assets that he might have access to. Found a trust that led us to the property.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“There wasn’t time. You were checking out the other address.” I pin him with a stare. “Not like you bothered to keep me updated on how that was going.”

“I don’t answer to you.”

“And I don’t answer to you.”

We continue glaring at each other for a few seconds before he finally backs down. “Has anyone contacted her family yet?”

“I just talked to her mom. Booked her on a flight. She should be here this evening.”

He raises his eyebrows. “She’s okay with you dating her daughter?”

I snort. “No, but not for the reasons you’re thinking.”

He doesn’t ask for details.

“Where you at, Jackson?” I ask since he seems to have calmed down. “You think Suggs was acting alone or you think he had help?”

He rocks back on his heels for a second while his face smooths into place. “I can’t discuss that with you.”

“Like hell.”

“You don’t want me to jeopardize the investigation, do you?”

Threatening to call Ice and tell him Jackson isn’t playing nice feels too drastic. Besides, one way or another, I’ll find out whatever Jackson thinks he’s hiding. If Suggs was working with someone else, it’ll come out eventually.

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