“Nothing. The doctors say her memory may never come back fully, but…”
“But what?”
“She won’t say why, but she’s adamant that she needs to speak to you. It’s possible she doesn’t remember that you’re…you know.”
Yeah, he knew. Shelby might not remember that he was a douchebag. That she’d divorced his ass.
But why had she insisted on talking to him in person that night? Why had she asked him to fly to Good Hope to meet her?
The cops had found nothing on the shooter. Colton had undertaken his own investigation, but came up with zip as well. He’d even broken the rules at SFI and used their resources. Not that it had helped. Beatrice, thankfully, had let it slide. “I’ll be there in a few hours.”
“No! You can’t come here. I thought maybe you could just call her. If you show up, Jack will—”
“Just let Shel know I’m on my way.”
He hung up before his former mother-in-law could argue. The dog sat, wagging his tail, tongue out. Colton eyed him for a moment. He had no business taking care of a dog. Hell, he could barely take care of himself, but he couldn’t leave the dog alone in his apartment. There was no telling when Paulina and Marcelo would get back.
If Paulina got to come home at all. What would happen to Marcelo if his grandmother died?
Colton shook off the all-too-familiar feeling of dread. He’d take care of the old woman and her grandson somehow—and the damn dog—but first, he needed to grab his overnight bag and buy a plane ticket.
Five minutes later, he was at the door, work phone in hand. “Yeah, thanks, Beatrice.” She’d given him a 72-hour ‘vacation.’ She needed him back at the office for an assignment by Friday, but hadn’t offered up the private jet, and the next plane out of Dulles and headed for Tulsa was hours away from takeoff and required a three-hour layover. His dragon couldn’t stand that, so he was going to drive. “I owe you.”
Again.
She made a comment to that effect and they disconnected. Colton once again found himself staring at the ugly mutt, now perched in front of the door.
Grabbing his keys from the hook, he shook his head. “You can’t come, Sal. Someone will be by to get you in an hour. You’ll get to hang out at SFI headquarters. Maybe you can fool around with Maggie. She’s a big, beautiful black Lab. You’ll have your paws full with her.”
The dog stuck his nose in the crack of the door, ready to bolt the moment Colton opened it.
“Salisbury,” he said, moving the dog back with his foot. “You can’t come with me. Trust me, buddy, Oklahoma is nowhere you want to be.”
The dog went right back to the door, gluing his nose there.
Cut me some slack, here, dog.
Beatrice was going to check on Paulina and make sure Marcelo had someone to take care of him until more permanent arrangements could be made. She’d even offered to bring Salisbury to the office to hang out with her dog, Maggie.
But the temptation of a warm bed and female companionship didn’t seem to sway the mutt who continued to plaster himself against Colton’s front door.
Shelby’s waiting. “Come on, man. I gotta go. This woman means everything to me. Don’t make me lock you in the bedroom.”
Salisbury just wagged his tail and panted, giving Colton a sad look.
Dammit. He never could say no to sad eyes. “Fine,” he huffed. “You can come.”
The dog jumped straight up into the air, wagging his tail furiously. Two more jumps, both on Colton, and for some stupid reason, the dog’s joy made him smile.
At least I made someone happy tonight.
“Come on,” he said, opening the door. “Let’s go.”
Tulsa, Oklahoma
Twelve hours later
HER LEG WOULDN’Tmove.
