was somebody resurrecting it now?
John touched her knee with his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here. I’ll be everywhere you are. If I’m not, one of the other guys will be.”
Shannon was more heartened that he touched her than by his words. It was one of the few times she remembered him actually doing that. Hell, John didn’t touch anybody if he could avoid it.
Nodding her head firmly, Shannon straightened. “I’m fine. Just a little shaken. I’m not worried, though.” She patted his hand in return, and he pulled away. “So, logically, if he is still in prison, how can his prints be on that can?”
Shrugging, he rolled back a bit, readjusting in the chair, cocking an arm over the back. “Well, somebody may have smuggled it out of the prison. Most have scanners going in, but I’m not sure if they make visitors pass through one going out. It may be a can from several years ago. The logo looks a little dated. It may be a fingerprint transfer somebody lifted and placed on the can. It’s hard to tell. There are a lot of different options.”
Shannon stood and started to pace. What craziness. The man was in prison, but he still caused problems.
Her brother Chris was going to be devastated.
Thanksgiving was a few weeks away, and she would have to see him then.
Emotion swamped her, and she walked to the window, fighting tears. She felt more than heard John roll up behind her. “Shannon, I know this is hard. I’m sorry.”
She turned to him with a smile and pushed away the tears. “John, that sounded very comforting. You better be careful, or you’ll turn into a nice guy. I’m all right.” Smoothing her face, she turned to him fully. “Did you get any sleep at all?”
Rubbing a hand over the stubble of his face, he avoided her eyes. “I got enough.”
In other words, no.
Cursing stubborn men in general, she gave him a reproachful look. “What good are you going to do me if you can’t keep your eyes open?”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Believe me, my body knows what it can take and what it can’t. I’m nowhere near my breaking point.”
*****
Overall, Shannon believed him, but she watched him a lot. This was not a chore, of course. She just didn’t want him to overwork himself. For the most part, he stayed busy. He had stopped at the office and gathered some “toys”, as he called them. To her it looked like a jumbled box of wires, but to John they were security. When she asked what they were, he explained they were door wires, window sensors and cameras. Shannon found herself recruited for mounting in places she could reach but he couldn’t. By the way he gritted his teeth and was short with her, Shannon knew he hated having her do anything like that. He wouldn’t let her get on the ladder to mount the higher cameras, though. Roger, he told her, was on his way over to do the job.
No sooner had he said that than the front door bell rang. Automatically, Shannon headed for the front of the house.
“Shannon! I’ll get it.”
Rolling past her, John gave her a scathing look. Shannon bit her lip, because he’d warned her that she was not to open door for anyone unless she knew exactly who it was, and even then with caution. He positioned himself beside the doorway and she was hit with exactly how much danger they could possibly be in. John in particular. Fear tightened her scalp as he pulled the gun from the holster he wore constantly now. Michael had already proven he was willing to kill for her. The shot that hit Chris should have killed him. And as forceful and masculine as John was, it was a fact he was still in a wheelchair, and definitely would not have the same advantages of an able-bodied man in a fight.
She hoped they caught whoever tormented her before it came to that.
Roger called out a greeting from the other side of the door, and John opened it cautiously, before sliding back to let him in. The gun disappeared into the holster.
The men nodded to each other, and
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