Page 107 of Fatal Vision


Font Size:

None of the men seemed too keen on the situation, but their dissent didn’t bother her. She knew now what she’d learned that day three months ago. It was time for her to start righting her wrongs.

She had a killer to stop.

BEFOREJACKCLAIBORNE’Sdaddy—Shelby’s granddad—had come along and renamed the town, Good Hope had been called Empty Quiver.

It had contained nothing more than a training site the military had used in the 1940s, the St. Francis Boys’ Home, which later became the Good Hope Children’s Home, and a few scattered farmers.

Empty Quiver was the military code word for the seizure, loss, or theft of a nuclear weapon. Shelby didn’t need two guesses where that had originated or why the military site had quickly and quietly shut down in 1974.

By then, her grandma and grandpa had been looking for a place to rebuild their lives after their first son took his by diving off a pier into the Gulf of Mexico.

Within a few years, her grandfather had become mayor and changed the town’s name. He brought a modest amount of commercial business to the place, revived the school system, including the football team, and worked with locals to build a heritage museum and park, commemorating the native peoples and natural beauty of the area. Soon, the Claiborne Bible College was born.

As Theo left the highway, Shelby saw the welcome sign to Good Hope. This was her town. Her home.

And nobody, especially not a killer, was going to ruin what her family had worked so hard to build.

“The temperature is really dropping.” She rubbed her upper arms. “Swing by my house, Theo. I need to grab a jacket.”

His gaze met hers in the rearview. “The house is a disaster. It’s too dangerous to walk around in there.”

“Well, unless you see an all-night women’s clothing store in the area, that’s what we have to do.”

“Ms. Claiborne…” Nickelback started.

Shelby shut him down. “We’re going to my house. End of discussion.”

Her boss and bodyguard exchanged a look.

That’s right, boys. I’m running the show now.

Daniel patted her hand and Shelby glanced at him. Shadows danced over his face as they drove under the streetlights. “It is getting chilly. Winter’s coming, I guess.”

Winter. Would she live to see another season?

She drew her hand away, rubbing her arms again. “I missed the entire summer. Momma said it was a hot one.”

They continued to talk about the weather and then Daniel’s plans to take over the parish ministry twice a month to free her father up for more traveling engagements.

Theo pulled up at her house a few minutes later.

My poor house.

Good thing her grandparents weren’t around to see this. Crime scene tape flapped in the breeze as light from the moon highlighted the hole on the first floor. A pile of rubble seemed to ooze from the gaping side, spilling onto the driveway. The upper story leaned slightly, part of its foundation gone.

Shelby knew the feeling.

“This is so not a good idea,” Nickelback said.

Good idea or not, she was determined to see her plan through. The clock on the dash read just after three a.m. Her backup would be here shortly. “Daniel, can you help me with my cane?”

Navigating through the debris would be challenging, and it was important the killer believed she was still disabled. Plus, the cane might come in handy if she needed to knock someone out.

Her Glock was upstairs. She doubted she’d be able to get there before the killer revealed himself.

But she did have a small backup in the kitchen. That was the key—to get there.

How was the question. She’d have to go in the back door since the only way to the kitchen through the front required crossing the damaged dining room.