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Jordan went stiff when he tried to get her moving, and she looked at him as if debating if she could trust him.
Egan cursed again. “I don’t know what you think happened here, but I didn’t shoot you. I have no reason to kill you.”
“Yes, you do.” She lifted the side of her top to show him something he didn’t need to see. The scar. The one from her surgery two years ago.
“So?” he snapped. “Did you think I’d forgotten you had a kidney transplant?” It wasn’t a question because there was no way he could have not remembered that. After all, the donor kidney had come from Shanna.
Hell. More memories came. Jordan had been shot that day, too. The bullet had gone through her side and damaged both her kidneys. It’d been somewhat of a miracle that Shanna had been a match. Of course, that miracle came with a huge price tag since Shanna was dead.
“No. I didn’t think you’d forgotten at all.” She swallowed hard. “In fact, that’s why I thought you wanted me dead.”
“You’re not making sense.” He hooked his arm around her waist and forced her to get moving again.
He helped her into his truck, and she winced when she pressed his shirt against her head. Egan considered just driving her to the hospital, but the ambulance could arrive soon, and he could hand her off to the medics while staying behind to have a look at her vehicle. Specifically, that window. He wanted to see if the damage had indeed been caused by a bullet, and if so, then he could call out a CSI team.
“Yes, I am making sense,” Jordan snarled. “Two of the recipients are already dead, and I think I’m next.”
“Recipients?” he questioned.
She looked up at him. “You hadn’t heard?”
No. But Egan was 1,000 percent sure he wasn’t going to like what Jordan was about to say next.
“Breanna Culver, who got Shanna’s liver. Cordell Minter, who got one of her lungs. They’re both dead. Murdered.” Jordan’s last word didn’t have much sound. It was mostly breath.
Hell. If that was true...well, Egan didn’t want to go there just yet. “It could be a coincidence.” Though it would be an eerie one. “You’re positive they were murdered?” he challenged.
Jordan’s forehead bunched up. “Yes. Their organs were...missing. The organs they got from Shanna.”
Egan felt as if someone had punched him. “If that’s true, why didn’t someone tell me?”
“Because I only made the connection today. I knew the names of the recipients. I got them because, well, I don’t know why exactly. Maybe I wanted to know who else was alive because of Shanna. I thought it would give me some peace.”
Egan’s mind was reeling, but he wanted to tell her that she didn’t deserve peace. Neither of them did. “You’re positive about those two people? Positive they were murdered and their organs taken?”
She nodded and motioned to her head. “And now this. Someone shot me.”
No way could he just accept all of this just yet. “Your injury could have been a prank gone wrong. Or a hunter. It could have even been caused by a rock going through the window. A rock that maybe a passing truck kicked up from the road.”
Her expression let him know she wasn’t buying any of this. “What about the break-in at my house?”
He was clueless about that, too, but then he hadn’t kept up with Jordan.
“I was supposed to be home,” she continued. “But I’d left only about five minutes before to go into San Antonio to meet one of my old criminal informants. I wanted to ask him about the other two deaths. Anyway, while I was gone, someone broke in and set fire to the place.”
Again, that didn’t mean anyone was trying to murder her—though the “coincidences” were stacking up.
“That means there are only three of us left,” Jordan added a moment later. “Tori Judd, Irene Adair. And me.”
Egan hadn’t known the names of the people who’d gotten Shanna’s organs. He hadn’t wanted to know. But was it possible someone was going after these people. And if so, why?
One name instantly came to mind. Drew Paxton.
The man who’d put a lethal bullet in Shanna. A bullet that Drew had fired during a botched hostage situation that had killed Shanna.
“Drew Paxton is in jail on death row,” Egan heard himself mumble.
Jordan made a sound of agreement even though Egan hadn’t been talking to her. “And he hasn’t had any unusual visitors. You know, the kind of visitors he could have hired to kill people.”
Egan was well aware of that because while he hadn’t kept tabs on Jordan, he had done just that with Drew. It wasn’t a morbid curiosity, either. Shanna had been Drew’s parole officer, and the snake had developed a fixation on her. So much so that he’d broken into Shanna’s house in San Antonio and taken her hostage.
Jordan had been one of the responding officers. A hostage negotiator. And she’d failed big-time. So had Egan. Because he hadn’t been able to save Shanna, and he’d lost the woman he loved.
“I ruled out Drew because all of his calls and correspondence are carefully monitored,” Jordan said a moment later. “And that’s why I thought you might be doing this. I thought maybe you’d snapped or something.”
Egan had come close to doing just that, but even if he had snapped, he wouldn’t have gone after the people who’d gotten Shanna’s organs. He would have gone after Drew.
And maybe Jordan.
But he hadn’t snapped. And wouldn’t. However, there were a couple of things that didn’t fit here.
“If you thought I’d gone crazy, why were you heading out to the ranch?” Egan asked. “Weren’t you afraid I’d gun you down once you got there?” Egan didn’t bother to take the sarcasm out of his voice.
“I was going to see your brother, Court. I called dispatch, and they said you were still at work so I thought I could talk to Court alone.”
Court was at the ranch all right, and his brother was not only a deputy sheriff, he would have also been more open to having a conversation with Jordan. Court probably didn’t have the raw nerves that Egan still had about Shanna’s death. Plus, Court and Jordan had been friends once, too.
“Look, I dismissed all of this at first,” Jordan continued. “I’m a private investigator these days, and I know how to look at things objectively. Most things anyway,” she added in a mumble.
Egan figured that was meant for him. Maybe Jordan hadn’t been able to get past the hurt and emotions of Shanna’s death, either, and that was why she’d thought Egan might be a killer.
“Have you been keeping an eye on Drew’s brother, Kirk?” Egan asked.
Jordan nodded. Then, hesitated. “Well, as much as I can. He’s a cattle broker, and he travels a lot. And yeah, he’s still riled that his brother is on death row. He could be willing to play into Drew’s sick fantasies of making sure every part of Shanna is dead.”
Definitely a sick fantasy. And riled was putting it mildly for the way Kirk felt about his brother. Kirk thought Egan had provoked Drew into that hostage standoff. Kirk wasn’t exactly specific about how Egan had managed to do that, but he blamed Egan for the situation. Maybe Kirk had decided to spread the blame around now and include Jordan. And those other recipients.
Still...
“What’s the name and number of the SAPD officer who investigated the break-in and fire at your house?” he asked.
She paused several moments as if she might not tell him. That whole lack-of-trusting-him thing might be playing into this, but Jordan finally handed him her phone. “It’s Christian Abrams. He’s not the cop I contacted to come out here, but his number is in my recent calls.”
It was. In fact, Jordan had called the man three times in the past two hours. And there were six missed calls from Christian to Jordan. It did make Egan wonder, though, why she hadn’t phoned this guy after she had gotten injured. Or taken any of those six calls.
While Egan kept watch for the ambulance, he pressed Christian’s number, and he answered right away. “Where the hell are you, Jordan?” the cop snarled.
“I’m not Jordan. I’m Egan McCall.”
“The sheriff over in McCall Canyon,” Christian said after a short pause, and Egan didn’t think it was his imagination there was some venom in the man’s tone. “Jordan went to you after all. I told her that wasn’t a good idea.”
Egan skipped right over that and went to the reason he’d wanted to speak to the man. “Is someone trying to kill Jordan?”
Christian certainly didn’t jump to answer that. “Is she there with you? Can she hear this?”
The answer to both of those was yes. Egan hadn’t put the call on speaker, but the cop’s voice was carrying in the truck. Jordan would almost certainly be able to hear him. But that wasn’t what Egan said because he didn’t want this guy clamming up.
“She can’t hear us,” Egan lied.
“Good. Because I don’t want to alienate her. Jordan needs friends right now. The right friends.”
Again, judging from the tone, Christian didn’t think Egan fell into that category. “Did someone really break into her house and try to kill her?” Egan pressed.
“Yes, but Jordan has this notion—no, it’s an obsession now—with connecting anything that’s happening to her friend’s murder. Did she tell you that she thinks someone is killing organ recipients?”
“She mentioned it.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s true,” Christian concluded. “I think Jordan’s feeling so overwhelmed with guilt from her friend’s death that she’s seeing bogeymen who just aren’t there.”
Jordan’s eyes narrowed, and she looked ready to snatch the phone from him, but Egan waved her off.
“You’ve investigated the two deaths?” Egan asked Christian.
“Yes, and I’m just not seeing what Jordan’s seeing. One of the victims was mangled and burned so bad in a car accident that it was hard to tell if she had missing organs or not. The other was dumped in the woods, and animals had ravaged the body.”
As gruesome as that was, Egan actually felt some relief. Maybe this wasn’t connected to Shanna after all. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part. It sickened him, though, to think that Jordan might be right, that Drew did indeed want any living part of Shanna dead.
“Look, just tell her to come home, and I’ll talk this out with her,” Christian continued. “Or better yet, tell me where she is, and I’ll come and get her. I care for her. A lot. I want to make sure she gets the help she needs.”
This time, Jordan did grab the phone, and she hit the end-call button. She opened her mouth, no doubt to try to convince him that she wasn’t “obsessed” as Christian had claimed. But the approaching headlights stopped her.
The vehicle wasn’t coming from town but rather from the direction of the ranch. If it was Court or one of the hands, they would stop when they spotted his truck, and Egan would have to explain why Jordan was with him.
Too bad he wasn’t sure of the answer himself.
As the headlights got closer, Egan felt his chest tighten. That was because it was a blue truck. Identical to his. And there wasn’t another vehicle like it on the ranch. Plus, this vehicle had the same license plate number. Since Egan’s plate was legit, this one had to be a fake.
“It’s him.” Jordan reached for his jeans. No doubt to try to get to her gun. But it was too late.
The bullet crashed through the windshield of Egan’s truck.
Chapter Two (#u63aa0199-9f5c-5468-9d6c-cd9434fbfaf7)
Jordan’s breath froze. No, please, no. This couldn’t be happening again.
She heard the hoarse sob tear from her throat, and she took hold of her gun that was in the back waistband of Egan’s jeans. She managed to get it, but Egan immediately pushed her down onto the seat. Good thing, too.
Because the next bullet slammed into the seat right where Jordan had been sitting.
If Egan hadn’t moved her at that exact moment, she’d be dead. She still might be, and this time the shooter might kill Egan right along with her.
“Hold on,” Egan warned her. Keeping low, he started his truck, threw it into Reverse and jammed his foot on the accelerator.
The sudden jolt of motion knocked Jordan against the seat. Hard. Her head hit, too, and the pain jolted through her. Still, feeling the awful pain was better than being shot again, but they weren’t out of the woods yet.
A third bullet smacked into the windshield, and she could have sworn it missed Egan by less than an inch. The bullet went into the headrest next to where he was hunched down.
Jordan lifted her head to get a better look at the vehicle. It was the same truck, all right. And the person inside obviously wanted to have another go at killing her. The guy had the driver’s-side window down, and he had a gun sticking out.
“I can’t see his face,” Jordan said. Because there was a dark tint on the windows. It didn’t help, either, that the driver had on the high beams, and they were shining right in her eyes.
“Don’t make it easy for him to shoot you,” Egan snarled. He shoved her back down, and he kept speeding down the road in Reverse.
Jordan wanted to remind him that she was a PI and former cop. She could return fire. However, at the moment that might not even be true. She was dizzy from the pain, and her hands were shaking. It was possible she couldn’t even hit the truck, much less the driver.
There was the sound of tires squealing against the asphalt, and Jordan knew what that meant. “He’s coming after us.”
Egan didn’t confirm that, but since the shots had stopped, it told her that the driver might be the sole person in the truck. If so, it was a gutsy move on his part to go after two armed and trained people. Then again, the guy did have them on the run, and that driver had a lot more control over his vehicle right now than Egan did. It was easier to drive forward than in Reverse, but there was no place for them to turn around on the narrow road.
“Call nine-one-one,” Egan ordered. “I want backup. But not the ambulance. Once we’re out of this, I’ll get you to the hospital.”
Seeing a doctor was the least of her concerns right now, and Jordan made the call for backup. The problem wouldn’t be getting someone out here because they weren’t that far from town. But Egan was literally taking up most of the road, and it would make it hard for the deputies to get in position to help them. Still, she wasn’t sure how much longer Egan could keep this up.
Jordan had just finished the call when she felt the jolt. The other truck had slammed into them. Hard. She heard the sound of metal scraping against metal. Unless the second truck had a reinforced bumper, he could be doing as much damage to his vehicle as he was to theirs.
Egan was still low in the seat, using the side mirror to navigate, but he had to adjust so he could better grip the steering wheel when the driver came at them again. If he hadn’t done that, they would have gone into the ditch. It hadn’t rained recently so it wasn’t filled with water, but they’d still probably get stuck. Then, they’d be sitting ducks for the shooter.
The memories came. They always did whenever Jordan had a gun in her hand. That wasn’t exactly an asset for a private investigator—to have the memories come at her so fast and strong that it put her on the verge of a panic attack. It was the reason she didn’t wear a badge any longer. It was also the reason her life, and her head, were a mess.
If Drew Paxton was behind this, then he was getting a good laugh right now. Not only was he trying to “kill” any living piece of Shanna, he might manage to take out the man Shanna had loved. Of course, Jordan felt as if she had already managed to “take out” Egan. Shanna’s death had crushed him.
And Jordan was responsible for that.
Drew had been aiming at Jordan to finish her off when he’d fired that deadly shot. But he hadn’t hit his target. Because Shanna had jumped in front of Jordan at the worst possible moment. And now Shanna was dead from a gunshot wound to the head, and Jordan was alive. Egan would never forgive her for that, and she’d never forgive herself.
The memories thankfully moved to the back of her mind when the truck crashed into them. Egan had to fight with the steering wheel again, and it didn’t help when the driver rammed into them a fourth time. He would almost certainly continue to do that, too, until he disabled the engine, forcing them to stop. Then, he could try to use his gun on them to finish this.
“Hold on,” Egan repeated to her.
Jordan lifted her head again so she could get a glimpse out the windshield, but the glass was so cracked and webbed that it was hard to see anything. She certainly couldn’t tell if the guy was about to hit them again.
But she did hear the squeal of his tires.
Not the other truck’s but Egan’s. Egan hit the brakes, and in the same motion, he turned the steering wheel, backing onto what appeared to be a ranch trail. It was gravel, and the rocks pelted the undercarriage. The sound was deafening, like being bombarded with bullets, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the other driver hitting his brakes, as well.
Now that they were both stopped, Jordan figured either Egan or she would have a shot. Of course, so would the driver of that truck. That was probably why Egan got his window down in a hurry. Before Jordan could even sit up, Egan got off two shots.
Jordan lowered her window, too, and she tried to steady her hand enough to take aim. She didn’t get a chance to do that, though.
