Silent Shadows

by Natalie Walters

  Without words, the protective huddle of men around her made it clear they thought otherwise.

  Sheriff Huggins’s face creased in thought before he pressed his lips into a tight line. “This is an active investigation, and while I understand your feelings, Pecca, I can’t allow you to tie my hands. If I feel there’s a threat against you or anyone else in my town, I will respond accordingly.”

  Pecca’s shoulders sank.

  “What if I help?” Colton said. “While she’s at work. I’m there. I have nothing else to do.”

  “No,” Pecca said quickly, seeing the shadow of hurt line the edges of his eyes. Colton wasn’t there to put his life in danger on her behalf. Pecca cringed, realizing he may have already done that, but she wasn’t going to let him do it again. She was his nurse—his advocate—and her only job was to help him get healthy.

  Not injured—or killed.

  “You’re my patient.”

  “I think it’s a good idea.” Charlie nodded. “Just while we’re investigating.”

  “Wait.” Pecca’s brows pinched together. From the corner of her eye, she saw Colton’s body go rigid. “You can’t ask that of—”

  “I want to help.”

  Pecca turned to Colton and saw something in his eyes that made her breath catch in her throat. Something about his offer sounded like it was coming from a need. A need to help maybe as much as to prove he could? And for a reason she couldn’t exactly pinpoint, she wanted to give that to him.

  “Okay.”

  Colton seemed to relax, and a flicker of emotion met his hazel eyes that caused her heart to beat faster.

  “Well, that’s settled then.” Sheriff Huggins tilted his head toward the door. “I’ll have Deputy Wilson cover your house tonight. Deputy Lynch will give Colton a ride back to the Mansion, and I’ll go grab my wife and take her home so you can try to get some sleep.”

  “Thank you.”

  Charlie gave Pecca a quick hug and whispered that Lane would check in with her in the morning. Deputy Wilson followed him out the front door, passing Colton, who remained where he was. She hugged Sheriff Huggins and Ms. Byrdie, who both made promises to check in as well. This is why I moved to Walton. Since she’d had to uproot Maceo from his family, she had wanted to be sure that wherever they landed, he still understood the value of having people in his life who cared about him.

  “We’ll keep you updated on any new information.” Sheriff Huggins grabbed his wide-brim hat and paused at the door to say something to Colton that earned him a tight nod.

  “What did he say?”

  Colton’s hazel eyes fell to hers. “He assured me he would take care of you.”

  “He will,” Pecca said, feeling her heart beating heavy in her chest. “I . . . I don’t want you to feel obligated to help though.” A flicker of hurt passed over his face, and Pecca immediately regretted her words. “What I mean is that you came here to get better, and I wouldn’t want my mess to interfere with your progress. Or cause any setbacks.”

  The muscles in his jaw flinched. “Don’t worry about me. It’s not like I’m doing anything special. Just keeping an eye on the situation while you’re at work.”

  Colton turned on his heel and started down the porch to Charlie’s squad car. His coarse tone said she had hurt him, and that bothered her. A lot. Closing the door, she rested her forehead against it. “Don’t worry about me.” Ha. That was her job as his nurse. Only the feelings percolating inside her warned her that the line in her professional relationship with Colton Crawford had just become blurred.

  Colton’s gaze didn’t leave the passenger-side mirror until Pecca’s house disappeared from view. “Everyone knows that what happened tonight was not some hillbilly out shooting for fun, right?”

  Charlie wheeled the squad car onto Ford Avenue in the direction of Home for Heroes. “We can’t rule it out.”

  “You’re a Marine. I don’t need to spell out what it looks like when a laser sight is used and there’s no report.” That Colton hadn’t heard the familiar crack of a gun firing unnerved him. “That wasn’t a random incident.”

  “I agree, but we have to do our due diligence—and that means checking into every possibility.”

  The way Charlie said “checking into every possibility” brought Colton’s thoughts back to Sheriff Huggins’s earlier question. “Are you still thinking someone might be targeting me?”

  “Can you be certain something from your career hasn’t followed you?”

  Colton ground his molars. “Yes, but I can reach out to a friend of mine and double-check.”

  “That’ll help.” Charlie pulled in front of Home for Heroes and parked. Colton faced him. “Tomorrow morning I’ll call Pecca’s brother, Adrian, and get as much information as I can regarding Javier Torres and the South Side Barrio.”

  Colton was planning to get some information too—only he’d be using his own resources. He had made up his mind the second Pecca started looking for another explanation for what happened tonight.

  “Do you think it’s strange they didn’t shoot her?” The question made Colton sick. The last thing he wanted to think about was what could’ve happened if he hadn’t seen that green beam of light.

  “What do you mean?” Charlie asked.

  “Someone with a scope on their rifle isn’t usually a novice, and yet they missed,” Colton said.

  “Which means maybe it really was an accident.”

  Colton shot Charlie a look, and he could tell the deputy was just playing devil’s advocate. “Except if what Adrian told Pecca is true—that the gang wants her to testify on her ex’s behalf—why would they shoot at her?”

  “Or miss, you mean?”

  “Exactly. The two shots that hit the tree came after we were already on the ground. It’s like they weren’t even aiming at us.”

  “So you don’t believe the shooting was random, yet you sound like you have a theory.”

  “I’m just trying to analyze the information.”

  “How come I get the feeling you’re going to be doing your own investigation?”

  “Would that be bad?” Colton said nervously. “I have resources that could prove to be helpful.”

  “Technically, you’re part of the investigation.” Charlie raised his eyebrows. “As long as you share your information, I don’t see why we can’t work together on this.” He shrugged. “And you are helping us keep an eye on Pecca.”

  A charge of electricity zipped through him, and his arm jerked. Looking down at it, Colton remembered Pecca’s insistence that he was here to get better and she didn’t want him to have any setbacks. For some reason, that bothered him. Did she not think he could do something as simple as keep an eye on her?

  What if he couldn’t?

  “If I hear back from Adrian tomorrow,” Charlie said, “I’ll swing by and let you know.”

  “Sure.” Colton opened the passenger-side door and slid out of the car. “Thanks for the ride.”

  When Charlie pulled out of the parking lot, Colton started across the wide lawn. The memory of tossing the football around with Maceo made him smile. The memory of Pecca running him down made him chuckle. The still-fresh memory outside the Way Station Café sobered him.

  He hadn’t been exaggerating when he told Charlie the scenario would be a lot different if he’d missed the recognizable green beam of a scope. What if he had missed it? Colton scanned the towering live oaks lining the edge of the Ogeechee River and the back of the Mansion. So many places for a shooter to hide.

  Dread coiled around his gut. Maybe tonight he’d been lucky. If there was a next time, the results might be different. If the Army didn’t trust him to fulfill his oath, what made him think he could protect Pecca and Maceo?

  A familiar voice filled his mind. “If you want to win the game, you got to know who you’re playing.” Colton’s uncle Jack loved football as much as he did and never missed a game or an opportunity to coach him from the sidelines, much to the irritation of his actu
al coaches. However, Colton had carried this piece of advice with him into his career in intelligence. His job was to know how the enemy operated so he could protect his troops.

  Colton tugged his cell phone from his pocket and dialed. If he wanted to protect Pecca and Maceo, then he first needed to know who their enemy was. And there was only one person Colton trusted to help him.

  “Brah, do you know what time it is?”

  “Lunchtime?” Colton checked the time on his phone. It was just after eleven. “Let me guess, loco moco?”

  “How’d you know?”

  Chief Kekoa Young was a cryptologist for the US Navy, and when Colton met him at a security summit in DC, he had brought in the island favorite and called it a “taste of home.” The taste of home inside the Styrofoam container included a pile of rice and a hamburger patty slathered in brown gravy with two over-easy eggs on top.

  “Lucky guess.”

  Colton lowered himself to the first step outside of the Mansion. It felt kind of good referring to his new residence like a local. “Late night?”

  “You know I work best at night, brah.”

  He did, and that’s why he knew it would be okay to call. “I have a favor.”

  “What you need, brah?”

  Kekoa’s pidgin was something that had taken Colton a bit of time to get used to, but once he got the gist of the island language, it quickly became a comfort whenever he spoke with his Hawaiian friend.

  “I’ve got two favors. First, I need you to check and see if I’ve been marked—”

  “Whoa, brah, you in trouble?”

  “I don’t think so, but there was a bit of an incident tonight that has me wondering if something from my past may have followed me.”

  “Okay, and number two?”

  “I need you to use your skills to check into someone else for me.”

  “Name?”

  Colton made a face. He had forgotten Javier’s last name. “I only have a first name. Javier. He’s in prison somewhere in Texas and is associated with a gang called the South Side Barrio in El Paso.”

  “Javier? In a gang? From El Paso?” Kekoa said, sounding like he was speaking around a mouthful. “Are you trying to make this as hard as possible?”

  “Thought you said you were the Navy’s best cryptologist?”

  “Brah, I’m good, but you giving me kibble.”

  Colton leaned the back of his head against the railing post, trying to think what other information he could give Kekoa, but he didn’t have much. Except, he did. Pecca. “You can try Pecca Gallegos.”

  “Pecca Gallegos,” Kekoa repeated. “Anyone else?”

  “Wait.” What was he doing? If Kekoa pulled up Pecca’s name, whatever information was out there would come back, and it was a violation of her privacy.

  “You there?”

  “Yeah. I’m just . . .” Colton stared up at the blanket of stars twinkling against the inky sky. A year ago he wouldn’t have thought twice about looking into someone’s background if it served the mission, but this wasn’t a mission and he wasn’t in the intelligence business.

  Not anymore.

  “So you don’t want me to check into this Pecca person?”

  Colton swallowed. Know your enemy. Pecca wasn’t convinced the gang or her ex were involved tonight. If she knew . . .

  “Her name is Serena. Serena Gallegos.”

  NINE

  THE FEELING PENETRATED PECCA’S GUT, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t shake it. Since Friday, she’d been jumping at the slightest noise, looking over her shoulder, and flipping on as many lights as she could, trying to extinguish the shadows messing with her mind.

  “Mom!”

  Pecca jerked with a cringe. This had to stop. Maceo had already started noticing her jumpiness, which she quickly blamed on Halloween being right around the corner. It was her least favorite holiday, and the stores had already begun marketing the morbid day.

  “Mom! We’re going to be late.”

  Sheesh. How many mornings had she had to light a fire under Maceo to get him out of bed and now he was rushing her? Pecca yanked up her duvet, tucking it beneath the pillows, and adjusted the books stacked on the nightstand before pausing at the threshold of her bedroom. She gave it another once-over. Everything looked the way it should, yet something felt amiss. What was it?

  “Moooommm!”

  Pecca shook the shudder away. If she had anything to worry about, Charlie would’ve said something to her when they spoke after church on Sunday. Or Adrian when he called her after speaking with Charlie. But so far they had no leads and nothing but her suspicions to indicate Javier or the SSB were involved.

  “Coooommming,” Pecca said, mimicking her son. Inside the kitchen she found Maceo pulling the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. Breakfast dishes were not sitting in the sink as usual. “Did you put your dishes in the dishwasher?”

  “Si, Mama.”

  The Spanish reply flipped her heart. She stared down at her son. “Who are you and what have you done with my son?”

  “Come on, Mom.” Maceo pulled at her hand. “I don’t want to be late for school.”

  Okay. Now she knew something was up. “What’s going on, mijo?”

  “Nothing.” He drew the word out. “Can we go now?”

  A glint in Maceo’s eyes said it was more than nothing. She eyed him, grabbing her keys from the bowl by the door. “Your rush to get to school wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain patient of mine knowing Victor whatever his name is, would it?”

  “Vincent James.” Maceo stopped dead in his tracks, sending her crashing into his back. The jolt caused him to tumble forward, his prosthetic creaking, into a bookshelf. A framed picture of her and Maceo crashed to the ground.

  “I’m sorry, Mama.” Maceo reached for the frame, twisting around on the ground. “It’s not broken.”

  “Mijo, that was my fault. Are you okay?”

  Maceo pulled himself up and tugged his backpack tighter over his shoulder. “Yeah.”

  Pecca didn’t miss the scornful look he gave his prosthetic. She’d seen Colton give his own arm, though flesh and bone, a similar look whenever it jerked. Part of her believed Colton and Maceo had bonded over more than football the day she found them playing on the lawn. And on Friday she hadn’t missed the flicker of boyish excitement that spread over Colton’s face when Maceo asked for some help with the game. Had she really just referred to Colton as boyish? Nothing was boyish about Colton—especially when he was shirtless.

  Ayyy. Pecca took the picture frame from Maceo and forced her mind back to a G rating. Colton was her patient, and it was unethical to think of him like that. Right?

  Yes!

  Right.

  “Ready.” She set down the frame on the dust-covered bookshelf and hesitated, noticing the empty space next to it. Huh. Her fingers brushed over an area that wasn’t dusty. An area where something was missing. “Maceo, what happened to the picture that was here?”

  Maceo was tying his shoe. “What picture?”

  “It was right here.” Pecca tapped her finger on the shelf where the picture should’ve been. “The one after your first surgery. With Tia Claudia, Grandma, and Grandpa.” Maceo still hadn’t looked up. “Maceo.”

  Her sharp tone sent his eyes upward. He glanced to where she was pointing and then back at her before shrugging. “I can’t remember.”

  Pecca frowned, the odd sensation returning. “I could swear this is where I kept it.” She took in the family room, scanning the shelves near the television and the side tables on either side of the couch. No picture. Was she wrong? Had she stuck it somewhere else and forgotten she moved it?

  “Come on, Mom.” Maceo tugged her toward the front door. “We’re going to be late. You don’t want me to get suspended again, do you?”

  That snapped her out of her confused daze. “No. No more suspensions.” Ruffling Maceo’s black hair, she gave him a nudge through the front door before looking over her shoul
der to the vacant space on the shelf.

  I’m being ridiculous. Pecca pulled the door closed and locked it. She was allowing paranoia to take root and blossom into something she didn’t want in her life—fear.

  Two hours later, Maceo was well into his school day, Pecca had already worked with her first patient of the morning, and now she was debating whether her nerves could handle another cup of coffee. Nerves that had nothing to do with Friday’s events and everything to do with her next patient.

  “Here’s the kit you asked for.”

  Pecca jumped at Shirley’s intrusion into her thoughts. She turned to find the robust receptionist in a bright poppy-colored blouse and black slacks. The color on anyone else would’ve been glaring, but on Shirley, it highlighted her ebony skin in a way that made it glow.

  Shirley set the box on the table. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Pecca, wanting to avoid Shirley’s uncanny ability to read faces, busied herself with the coffee pot. The last thing she needed was for her to suspect Pecca had feelings for Colton—which she didn’t. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “No, thank you, honey.” Shirley opened the fridge and pulled out the hazelnut creamer and handed it to Pecca. “The doctor says I need to cut back. I’ve only had two cups this morning.”

  “Oh?” Pecca peeked over Shirley’s shoulder to the travel mug on the receptionist’s desk. “Doesn’t that thing hold twenty ounces? That’s like three cups.”

  “Hush now, baby.” Shirley’s lips pinched into a smile. “I let you keep to your business, you let me keep to mine.”

  “Fair enough.” Pecca raised her cup of coffee in acknowledgment. Shirley didn’t have a malicious bone in her body, but she wasn’t one to pass up sharing gossip. That she hadn’t hounded Pecca about Friday night the second she came in to work spoke highly of Sheriff Huggins’s and Charlie’s abilities to keep the incident quiet.

  “Your next patient is already in the gym.” Shirley’s eyebrows bounced above her brown eyes. “I’m more than happy to learn his business.”