“Tell him I’ll live. Have him come in. I’ll take the pain meds when we’re done.” He’d have questions about the jerk who tried to kill me. So did I. At least Shelby was safe.

When I reopened my eyes, Sheriff Wendall stood above me with his arms crossed over his chest. He reminded me of Cowboy Ant-Man. Not sure he’d appreciate the nickname. I must be getting my mojo back.

“You gonna live, Denton? You look like you kissed a semi.”

“Feel like it too.”

“Ready to tell me what happened? A couple of FBI agents are on their way to take your statement, but I’m here first.”

How many times had I done the same thing to a victim? “Trade my story for a few ice chips.”

He nodded and disappeared, then soon returned with Nurse Giggle, who carried a cup of ice. She spooned a few cold chips into my mouth and told me I was one handsome man. I laughed but it hurt. Everything hurt. Ah, a taste of heaven’s springs quenched my desert-dry mouth.

Sheriff Wendall reached inside his pocket for a pad and a pen. A bit of old-school going on. I preferred using my phone to record interviews.

“Start at the beginnin’.” He set his Stetson on the nightstand. “Don’t leave out one thing. It’s all important.”

“I drove Shelby to Sharp’s Creek. Met her dad, Clay Pearce . . .”

When I finished, the sheriff paced the floor, pad in hand and the pen behind his ear. He turned to me. “Now that you’ve given me the textbook version, what’s your gut say?”

Apprehension seized control. Whatever I said might be used against me by someone. “I’m still in a brain fog.”

“No, you’re not. You’re avoidin’ my question.”

I glared. “The Pearce family practices dysfunction like you probe for answers. Shelby, her mom, dad, and sister have secrets. I need to analyze each person’s words and body language.”

“Fair enough.”

I searched for signs of my cell phone. “Shelby will be worried I haven’t contacted her.”

“No, she won’t.”

I peered into his face. “You called her?”

“She had her own problems last night. They were at the safe house.” He quickly sketched out the details. “Aaron is recovering in a Houston hospital, and Isaac is driving her here. She refused to stay in protective custody.”

I hated what the three of them had gone through. “Sounds like her. You say one shooter was killed and another got away?”

“Yep. Isaac and Shelby will be here shortly. I want her story about what happened too.”

I loaded my mental Glock with my own questions for Shelby and Isaac. But I needed the pain meds first to process anything.

39

SHELBY

I sat in a chair beside Denton’s bed and watched him sleep. Or rather I tried without cringing. His face looked like someone had hit him with a sledgehammer. I’d seen worse in prison, revolting really, but Denton received this because of me. The swelling, bruising, and stitches would take a while to heal. The broken bones a little longer. My memory of it—a lifetime.