Chapter Thirty-Two

Shane could've cried at the sweet innocence pouring off Everlee. She'd had such a tough life, and she'd come so far from the insecure teenager she'd been. There was no reason on Earth she should be jealous of Tuesday. But look at the stars in her eyes now. Made a man proud, at some deep, dark, caveman level knowing he'd put them there and that her moods and happiness revolved around him. That he and he alone had the power to make her smile. Not that he'd tamed her. Oh, hell no. There was no taming Everlee Yeager. But loving her? That would be the challenge and highlight of the rest of his life.

With one final kiss on her forehead and one more sigh from her lips, he told their three dogs, "Places." They eagerly dashed across her open floor plan and whirled around to stand on their appointed mats beneath the bay windows. Those three dogs would stand there until he released them to join the conversation. Until then, Shane latched onto Everlee and headed for the door.

"What took you so long?" Heston grouched when the door opened. "We've been standing out here for hours."

"I wish," Shane grumbled back.

Tuesday giggled. "Shush. They've been getting busy. Can't you tell?"

A salacious grin cracked Heston's face. "Well, good! It's about time. Looking beautiful, Ev!" He opened his arms like he expected a hug.

Obviously, he didn't know Everlee. She shoved him away into Tuesday's side. "Knock it off, creep. I don't hug strangers, and man, you are one strange dude."

Heston tipped his head back and laughed. "Dude? Me? Honey, you have no idea."

Shane stepped to her side and put an arm around her shoulders. "Glad you guys could make it. Come on in," he said, gesturing Heston and Tuesday into the open living room area as he closed the door.

Everlee took a seat beside Tuesday on the couch, while Shane took the one rocker and Heston took the other. A quietly uttered whimper escaped one of the dogs. No doubt Blade. Shane didn't blame the hefty guy. He was the most spoiled.

Shane looked over his shoulder and gave those handsome dogs the quiet command to, "Come." Mayhem ruled for a few minutes while the rambunctious threesome raced to greet, smother, and slobber on their guests. But when Shane said, "Off," they promptly obeyed and each chose someone to settle down beside. Surprisingly, Blade dropped to his belly with a grunt at Tuesday's feet. Everlee just winked at him and let him be.

Tuesday bounced on the couch, her fingers tapping her knees restlessly. "Did you hear?"

Today she'd dressed in black jeans that hugged her long legs, stylishly distressed, brown leather ankle boots, and a fuzzy, soft pink sweater top. Her sleek hair hung in perfect blonde ringlets down her back. Pink blush brushed her cheeks and her green eyes were lightly shadowed, then highlighted under the brows to make them seem bigger. Shane's gaze strayed from Tuesday to Everlee. Look at her, sitting there with no make-up whatsoever. One glance at her made his heart sing. She looked like a mischievous pixie with stars in her eyes.

"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 on Sixty 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.

"I'm not that lonely little girl anymore," Tuesday replied evenly. "Sure, I miss Freddie. Just sorry I didn't shoot Astor in the face before she shot Ev."

"Wish I'd seen you take that bitch down," Everlee said. "That would've been priceless."

"It was" —Tuesday's chest expanded with a long inhale— "satisfactory, knowing I ended a predator like her. I don't enjoy killing, but I approve of justice. Call it the most extreme version of tough love, but there's a time and a place when we owe the victims in the world more than we owe a depraved killer. And Astor earned every ounce of the lead Heston and I put in her."

"She did," Heston agreed.

"How many?" Shane asked.

"Double tap from me but—"

"I only shot her once," Tuesday declared, her head up and her green eyes clear of any sign of regret or guilt. "No need to waste ammo. She wasn't a polar bear, for Pete's sake."

"Nope. She was an ass," Everlee deadpanned.

Which broke the tension that had stolen over the group of friends.

"Do we understand why she killed Atchison Bremmer and those kids yet?" Shane needed to know.

Heston shook his head. "No, and the FBI is upset that she died before they had a chance to question her. But self-defense was definitely warranted. No doubt about it."

"But babies," Tuesday murmured. "That she killed her flesh-and-blood babies makes me sick. I don't understand how anyone could do that."

"Me either," Everlee agreed.

Shane knew he needed to divert the attention away from how her mother died. "I've got teriyaki chicken in the oven," he announced. "You guys will stay for lunch, won't you?"

Everlee shot him a brilliant smile, either because she was hungry, which was good, or she knew precisely what he was doing, namely hinting. Which was even better. Yeah, they were going to make it.

"We can't," Heston replied, his palms on his knees. "Tuesday has to be in Manhattan early tomorrow morning. Just wanted to check in with you kids before we left."

" We? You're going with her?" Everlee asked.

"Yeah, sure. I'm still playing bodyguard. No big deal. Alex wants to be sure there's no Astor-related blowback."

"He thinks it's possible?" Shane asked.

"Not likely, but he gave me the week off, and I've never been to New York, so I figured, why not? With Tuesday as my tour guide, it'll be fun."

"Do you still own Freddie's condo?" Shane asked her.

She shook her head, which sent those golden curls bouncing off her shoulders. "No, I turned it over to the New York police department after that mess in Little Rock. They've assured me they've gone over it with a fine-toothed comb and there's no danger of anyone else coming into contact with the toxin. After NYPD sells the place, the money will go to the New York Police and Fire Widows and Children's Benefit Fund. And that guy I allegedly killed in my home in Dallas before I allegedly blew it up?" Tuesday poured a ton of sarcasm into allegedly just like Everlee had done with her at the beginning of their mission. Shane couldn't help the grin that split his face.

"He was another one of Astor's minions," Tuesday said. "Do you believe that? He might even have been the guy who followed me when I got home from the Arctic. Who knows? Dallas PD found his and Astor's fingerprints in my bedroom, do you believe that?! That horrible woman meant to frame me for his murder, too. As well as those guys in the penthouse! What a lunatic."

"She was that," Everlee said quietly.

Her gaze had drifted to Shane. He was looking at her. Their simple across-the room connection sizzled and seemed to trigger a reaction from Heston.

His palms slapped his knees and he pushed to his feet. "We'd better get going."

"Wait, before you leave," Everlee said, "Does anyone know why Astor killed Freddie?"

"Oh, yeah," Heston replied. "About that. Astor worked at One57, the Tower, where he lived, remember? Her first job was at the swimming pool, but she was also at the grand opening, serving champagne and finger foods. Mr. Lamb was there, mingling with other guests. Astor made a play for him, which he politely ignored. When she kept after him, he turned her down again, told her ‘no thanks' loud enough that people heard. Then he walked away. Gotta give the man credit. He knew precisely what Astor was."

"I still don't understand. Why'd she need to destroy Tuesday if Freddie was already out of the picture?"

"Hard to know for sure, Ev," Tuesday replied. "But I think it's because I was Freddie's widow, the woman he chose over her. That might've made her jealous."

"And insane," Everlee murmured.

"The whole woman scorned thing," Shane added.

Tuesday shrugged. "Who cares? She's not going to bother me anymore, is she?" With a bounce off the couch, she grabbed Heston's open hand as if he'd just invited her to a party and they were late. "Bye, guys! We've got to go!"