Heart and Soul by Jackie May (reading list .TXT) 📗

huge swell building in my chest. Hurrying inside, I close the front door, sink down to the wood floor, and pull the blanket over my head to keep from seeing the familiar walls, the stairs, the holes in the ceiling. It’s no good, because I can still smell. I can’t describe the smell, except to say that it’s the smell of Jay’s house. Every house has a unique scent, and this one’s his. It was becoming mine, too, but it will always have been his first.

I cry for a long time, even though I’ve long since run out of tears. My body’s dehydrated, shouting at me to shift. My fox will be able to calm down and see to my needs. But I deny the request. As painful as it is, this pain belongs to Jay. It’s all I have of his right now.

Well, that’s not exactly true, as I am reminded with the sound of high-pitched whining and a soft, rhythmic thumping on the floor. Lifting the blanket an inch, I peek out to see that black beastie—the Labradoodle—lying down, his head resting on the floor between his paws, eyes big and sad. The thumping is his tail, flopping to one side, then the other.

I pull the blanket shut again. “He’s not here. Go away!”

There’s a soft sound, like something dragging or sliding, but in short bursts. It’s Muppet, crawling on his belly inch-by-inch toward me. I listen to him stop and listen, then advance another few inches, then stop and listen—no doubt waiting for me to lash out at him, or rear up like a monster. I hold my breath, bracing for something; I don’t know what. Finally, after a few whole minutes listening to this tortured army crawl, I feel the weight of his head set down gently on my foot. He relaxes, blowing out a breath of relief.

I match him, releasing a long-held breath, surprised to feel not entirely ungrateful for his company.

And that’s how we stay until sleep takes me.

I start awake when Muppet suddenly jumps to his feet and backs away, tilting his head to watch the front door closely. Loud knocking shakes the door against my back.

Russo’s booming voice calls out. “Shayne? Please tell me you’re in there.”

I really don’t want to see anybody right now, but if I have to, then I’m glad it’s Russo. “Why are you not at the hospital?”

After blowing out a relieved breath, he chuckles. “Are you kidding? That place was more dangerous than the Grande Ballroom. A wounded cop with an ass like mine in those skimpy hospital gowns? Every nurse there wanted to take me home for extended bed rest.”

Bitterness grips my heart. “Do yourself a favor, Russo. Go on back there. Get as many of their phone numbers as you can. The old Russo would have.”

His laugh turns nervous. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“Really, Mr. Two-Amy’s-At-The-Same-Time?”

“Wow, okay then.”

“Save yourself, Russo. Hillerman’s gone, and she won’t be back.”

He begins knocking again. “All right, how about we not do this through the door, Shayne? Open up.”

Using the door handle, I pull myself up. “I’m serious, Russo. Lock up your heart and throw away the key. People tried to tell me, but I didn’t listen, and now look—” My voice cuts off when I open the door to see Agent Hillerman standing right next to Russo.

She levels a flat look at me. “I didn’t think you’d open if you knew I was here.”

I don’t have an answer for that. My feelings are so complicated right now. I’m happy to see both of them—yes, even Hillerman. At the same time, having the three of us together only emphasizes the one glaring absence from our party. We’re supposed to be four, not three.

Thankfully, Russo didn’t break out of the hospital in his skimpy gown. He’s fully dressed. With each movement—even with each breath—he winces in pain. Muppet wags his tail, wanting to jump at him, but Russo holds him at bay with a scratch on the head. “Sorry, boy-o. No wrestling for me just yet.”

“How are you even on your feet right now?” I ask.

“Surgeries went well. No vital organs hit. A few aspirin. I’m good to go.”

His casual response doesn’t surprise me. Jay would have said the exact same thing. I look to Hillerman. “And you. Director West told me you were reassigned. They’re pulling you back to Washington.”

“That’s what I was told, too,” she says. “So I quit.”

“You…what?”

She narrows her eyes. “Well, I guess quit isn’t the right word, since UTF agents aren’t allowed to quit. We know too much for the government to let us go back into the wild. I guess that means I’ve gone rogue.”

“Love it. So much hotter than quitting,” Russo mutters.

“Rogue? You mean, like, people are going to be after you?”

Hillerman tosses her head. “They can get in line.”

Russo laughs grimly. “Right? Don’t look so surprised, Shayne. You’re acting like you thought this was over.”

“It’s not? No, I mean, I know it’s not, but…what if Jay’s already…how do we know they haven’t…” I can’t say the words. My emotions run wild, tying my thoughts and fast-flowing words into knots. “Look, I’m not saying I don’t appreciate…you have no idea how glad I am to see you guys right now”—I gesture to Hillerman—“yes, even you. But we had our chance last night. That was it. Hillerman, you’ve been working this case for how long—how many years now?—and it all led to the Grande Ballroom. That’s not happening again, so what do we…how the hell do we find them again? What are we supposed to do? We don’t have years anymore. We have, what, days? Hours? We don’t know!”

“You’re right,” Hillerman says in her sharp, clipped way. “We don’t know how much time. Maybe we don’t have much. But there is one thing we do have.”

Russo cocks one brow. “We have help.”

There’s a knock at the door before Elle bursts in and rushes straight into my arms. She’s so short, the