Loaded. Joanna Wayne

he likely would have if the plate had been missing. The culprit probably removed it just before opening fire on Shelly Lane.”

      “That’s what I’m thinking as well. I’d be careful if I was you about moving her onto the ranch. She seems nice enough, but truth is she might be mixed up in most anything.”

      “I’m in solid agreement. If it were up to me, I’d write out a check for her time and expenses and say adios, but Mom is championing her case—as if she were the only qualified PT north of the border.”

      “I hear you, and your mother can be a stubborn woman at times. Can you call Miss Lane to the phone?”

      “I’d have to yell awful loud. I’m out at the ranch.”

      “Isn’t she there with you?”

      “No, why would you think that?”

      “I stopped by the hospital a few minutes ago to question her and the nurse said she checked herself out and told them she would be spending the night at Jack’s Bluff Ranch. I figured Lenora had picked her up.”

      “No, Mom’s been here all evening. So have I. Shelly Lane is definitely not here.”

      “This case is getting weirder by the minute.”

      “Is there something more about her past?”

      “Not a lot. I ran her through the system. Everything checks out. No warrants out for her arrest. No rap sheet. Not even an outstanding parking ticket.”

      “So you’re thinking this might have actually been a case of random violence?”

      “Could be. There’s been a rash of them in southeast Houston of late. We’re less than an hour and a half out of the city so it’s reasonable that some of the hoods down there might have connections up here. But then there was the gun.”

      “Are you saying you found the weapon?”

      “Not the perp’s, but when we were checking Miss Lane’s vehicle for ballistic evidence, I found a loaded Smith & Wesson .45 in her busted-up glove compartment. It might mean nothing. Lots of women traveling alone carry high-powered pistols these days.”

      “But it could mean she was afraid of someone,” Matt said, “someone who followed her to Texas.”

      “Exactly.”

      As far as Matt was concerned, this was beginning to look more and more like the pretty little PT had better reasons than a need for change of scenery for taking a job so far from home. And now she’d lied about where she’d be tonight.

      But no matter what she’d told the nurse at the hospital, it was a sure thing she wouldn’t be spending tonight, or any other night, at Jake’s Bluff Ranch until he got to the bottom of this.

      FORTUNATELY FOR SHELLY, Hank Tanner’s Garage and Body Shop was on Birch, a quiet side street of mostly closed family-owned businesses less than a mile from the hospital. It should have been an easy twilight walk except that the temperature was still in the eighties and the humidity seemed higher still.

      Perspiration wet her underarms and dripped into her eyes. Worse, her arm had stated to throb. Wiping her face with a tissue from her pocket, she crossed the street and turned the corner, thankful when she spotted the sign for the garage in the next block. Her spirits lifted more when she saw her car parked at the side of the old clapboard building.

      Hopefully her weapon was still in place. The sheriff would have surely checked the damaged vehicle for ballistics evidence, but he’d have had no reason to check her locked glove compartment. But then he probably had the keys. She didn’t remember giving them to anyone, but either she had or she’d dropped them when she got shot.

      Stepping over a crack in the sidewalk, she cut across the corner of the parking lot, walked around the rear of an old pickup truck and got her first good look at the extent of the damage to her vehicle.

      The whole side of the car was riddled with bullet holes. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the weapon, but judging from the size and number of holes, it must have been a large automatic. Her nerves grew edgy as it hit her how close she’d come to getting killed.

      Attacked in broad daylight on the main street of Colts Run Cross. She could see why that might rouse both the sheriff’s and Matt Collingsworth’s suspicions, but what else could it be except random violence?

      The only people with reason not to want her here were the Collingsworths, and it was almost inconceivable that they could have learned her identity this quickly. And even if they had, a careless, open attack like this wasn’t their style.

      She let her fingers slide over the damage, then walked to the passenger-side door, opened it and climbed inside. The vehicle wasn’t locked, but even if it had been, entry would have been easy enough with two windows shot out.

      Her spirits plunged at the first glimpse inside the glove compartment. The contents—including her weapon—were missing.

      There was the possibility that Hank Tanner had her belongings inside for safekeeping, but more likely the sheriff had confiscated them. No problem there. The car and gun registrations would check out.

      Still, it was amazing how vulnerable she felt without her weapon, despite the fact that she hadn’t carried it on her body since arriving in Colts Run Cross. It didn’t fit the PT persona and chancing someone noticing that she was carrying a weapon would constitute an unnecessary risk when there was no reason to think she was in any kind of danger.

      Her cell phone vibrated—not her regular phone but the CIA one, disguised as a compact. It was her signal to call in at her earliest convenience unless she was free to take the call. She wished she could ignore it, because it was likely her supervisor and she wasn’t sure she was ready to handle Brady Owens just yet. She took a deep breath and leaned against the car.

      “Shelly Lane,” she said, identifying herself.

      “I got the word you’ve been shot,” Brady said, without bothering with a greeting. “Are you okay?”

      “Yeah, or I will be in a few days. It was only a flesh wound. Left arm. Random violence. Nothing to worry about—really.”

      “Any complication is reason for worry. Where are you?”

      “At Hank Tanner’s Garage, standing by my vehicle.”

      “Who’s with you?”

      “I’m alone. I wouldn’t have answered otherwise.”

      “I’m just checking.”

      To see if the accident had somehow addled her brain and made her a risk. The Collingsworth case was Brady’s baby and he’d made it clear that he wasn’t comfortable with her lack of experience. She was certain he’d be even less thrilled with her now.

      “I’m totally aware of the seriousness of this case, sir, but things are under control. What I meant is there’s no reason the assignment shouldn’t still be a go.”

      “That will be my decision. I haven’t made it yet.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Have there been any new developments since you called in the report?”

      “Nothing except that I’ve left the hospital.”

      “Were you released?”

      “No, sir, but the wound is too insignificant to require hospitalization. I’ll go back in tomorrow to have it checked.”

      “See that you do that. Is there anything else I should know?”

      “My weapon was locked in the glove compartment of my car at the time of the shooting incident. It’s missing. I assume either the mechanic took it for safekeeping or the sheriff has it. Either way, I’m sure I’ll get it back.”

      “Just be sure to explain it away convincingly. Do you think there is any chance the