Page 38 of Seeing Red


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“The Major’s friend is sheriff, remember. His department is investigating, but the Rangers and feds will probably join in.”

“Just as well. You told me this sheriff and The Major are blood brothers. He can’t be objective.”

“What I told him.”

“Especially if The Major doesn’t make it.”

“If he doesn’t, Glenn said he would go caveman on whoever killed him.”

“So would you.”

Trapper didn’t comment on that. “Listen, is the honeymoon over?”

“As of this phone call, yes,” Carson said drily. “She’s had it with you. But both of us are back to work in the morning anyway.”

“It is morning. Almost five thirty. Local TV has already issued bulletins about the shooting, but the story will start getting full coverage on the morning newscasts. Keep an eye out at the office. Anyone comes poking around, you let me know.”

“There’ll be media.”

“Possibly someone will try sniffing me out there. But I’m not talking about media.”

“Then what? Who?”

“Just keep an eye out and tell me if anyone suspicious-looking comes around.”

“Besides my clientele, you mean.”

“And dig deeper on Kerra Bailey.”

“In my spare time?”

“I’ll pay you, Carson. Put some of your former clients on it. The hackers. Identity thieves. Whatever you can get on her, I want. Immediately.”

“It would help if I knew what you were looking for.”

“I don’t know.”

“Still getting a vibe, huh?”

“Yeah. A bad one.”

Terror jolted her awake.

Before Kerra remembered that her body was batt

ered and bruised, she sat bolt upright. Pain shot through her head like a lightning bolt. The fracture in her clavicle made itself known. Her stomach heaved, and she retched into her lap.

Groping for the remote, she rang for a nurse, who took her sweet time responding while Kerra sat shivering in her sweat-soaked gown and clammy sheets.

When the nurse arrived, Kerra apologized for the mess. “I had a nightmare.”

“I guess you did, honey. You’re shaking like a leaf in a gale.”

The nurse called for assistance, and within five minutes, Kerra’s gown and bedding had been replaced. When alone again, she used the remote to switch the nightlight back on.

Although she was clean and dry, she continued to shiver so badly her teeth chattered.

In her nightmare, the aftermath of the bombing had been replaced by her isolation in the powder room. An aspect of that nightmare had catapulted her out of sleep and into awareness of something she’d forgotten: Someone had tried to open the powder room door before she heard the gunshot.

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