Page 34 of Shadow Secrets
Yet she couldn’t help thinking she was being an idiot for leaving the compound.
On the other hand, Dom had nobody but her. How could she not go see him? Give him something to hang on to? He had to live. She couldn’t handle it if he didn’t.
And if he did die and she hadn’t gone to see him one last time?
She couldn’t live with that either.
Claire pushed back hard. “Get her to reconsider.”
“I won’t,” she said. “I’m all he’s got. I can’t abandon him. If it was Garrett in the hospital on life support, wouldn’t you insist on going, no matter the risk?”
Claire didn’t respond. Garrett pinched his lips together. They all had people in their life who mattered more than any risk.
Sebastian’s voice was calm, but stripped of the warmth he’d shown her the night before as he spoke to Claire. “We control the environment. Your team takes the perimeter, mine takes the interior. If anyone tries to harm Sutton, we take him.”
The silence on Claire’s end continued to stretch long enough it made Sutton hold her breath. “I don’t like it.”
“I’m visiting my injured friend while I still have him,” Sutton said, all eyes on her as she marched up to stand beside Sebastian. “If it turns out the asshole who killed Ginger is there, good. You can arrest his sorry ass.”
After a long, tense silence, Claire finally agreed. “I’ll get my team up to speed, and we’ll meet you there. We believe the shooter came from D.C. We’ve identified three individuals who arrived at the Missoula airport in the forty-eight hours preceding the Galbraith murder.”
Jasper had taken his normal seat and hit a few keys on his laptop. Three photographs appeared on the screen at the far end of the room. They were driver’s license photos, each one paired with a summary of the man’s background.
“Do any of these seem familiar, Sutton?” Claire asked.
She moved closer to the screen and studied the faces. They were all strangers. Any one of them could have been the figure who’d stepped out of the sedan. “Sorry, I don’t recognize any of them.”
“The first is Karl Denning,” Claire continued. “Former private security contractor. Some red flags in his employment history, but he has a plausible reason for the trip—his ex-wife lives in Helena. Second is Paul Mattick, a retired bookkeeper. No known ties to Montana, but I suspect it’s just a vacation because of some day trips he has planned and paid for in advance.”
Claire paused. “The third is the one that concerns me. Grieves Rosen. Former Special Forces with an honorable discharge, currently working the private sector. He has strong ties to several D.C. lobbyists and at least two people at the Department of Defense. I can find no reason for him to be in Montana. No family, no friends, no professional justification. He flew into Missoula three days before Ginger’s murder and hasn’t flown out. No rental car agreements, no hotel registrations.”
Next to her, Sebastian studied Rosen’s photo. Square face, close-cropped hair, a jawline that looked like it had been engineered rather than grown. The kind of face that could disappear into a crowd or fill a doorway, depending on what the situation required.
“Jasper, get these photos circulated to everyone on the detail,” Sebastian said. “Hardcopy and digital. Every team member memorizes them before we move.”
Jasper nodded, already typing.
Sebastian turned to the hospital map. His finger traced the layout—entrances, exits, stairwells, elevators, parking structures. “Mack, you’re on the rooftop of the professional building across the street. You’ll have a clear line to the main entrance and the east parking lot.”
Mack nodded once. No questions.
“CB and Jasper, you’re inside with me. Third floor, ICU wing. You blend in—visitors, concerned family, whatever works. Eyes on every person who enters the corridor. Anyone who doesn’t belong, I want to know before they get within fifty feet of Dom’s room.”
CB gave a thumbs up. Jasper looked reluctant but didn’t complain. It was clear he’d rather stay here and play with his computer.
“Claire, your team has the perimeter. Parking lot, main entrance, emergency exits. Radio check every five minutes.”
“Copy,” Claire said.
“Garrett drives. He’ll hold with the vehicle at the rear exit, engine running. If I call an extraction, he pulls to the door and we’re gone.” Sebastian met Garrett’s eyes across the table. Some wordless exchange passed between them—trust, calibration, the shorthand of men who’d done this enough times to skip the conversation.
Then Sebastian turned to Sutton. “You get fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen? Sebastian, he’s on life support. He doesn’t have family. I’m the closest thing he has. I need time to sit with him, talk to him. They say people in comas can hear you, and maybe if he hears my voice?—”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“An hour.”
