hit her head and shoulder on the steering wheel. Of course, her accusation would mesh with the broken window. Not with anything else, though.
“After he shot me, my truck stalled. I couldn’t get it started,” she continued a moment later. “So, I got out to try to fix it. That’s when I passed out and landed here on the ground.”
Egan didn’t bother to tell her it’d been stupid to try to do engine repairs while injured. “You should have called nine-one-one.”
Despite being dazed, she managed to give him a flat look. “Right. Call the local cops when I thought it was a local cop who shot me. I called someone from San Antonio PD instead.”
He supposed that wasn’t really a surprise about her not wanting to alert the locals. After all, Jordan lived in San Antonio, where she’d once been a cop. She almost certainly still had friends on the force there. But it was a long drive, nearly an hour, from San Antonio to McCall Canyon, and it’d likely be a while before her friend made it out here.
“And your cop friend in San Antonio didn’t convince you to call me?” Egan asked.
“No.” Again, she didn’t hesitate. “Not after everything that’s happened.”
She was talking about Shanna now. Specifically, Shanna’s murder. But Egan had no intention of getting into that with Jordan tonight.
“Come on,” he said, helping her to her feet. In case she was still thinking he would try to kill her, he took her gun and put it in the back waistband of his jeans. “We can wait in my truck until the ambulance gets here.” Which should be in about only twenty minutes or so.
If Jordan was right about having been shot, Egan didn’t want them to be out in the open in case the shooter returned. Of course, he doubted that would happen. The bullet—if it was indeed a bullet—had probably come from someone out hunting.
“Hold my shirt against your shoulder to slow down the bleeding,” Egan instructed.
Jordan went stiff when he tried to get her moving, and she looked at him as if debating if she could trust him.
Egan cursed again. “I don’t know what you think happened here, but I didn’t shoot you. I have no reason to kill you.”
“Yes, you do.” She lifted the side of her top to show him something he didn’t need to see. The scar. The one from her surgery two years ago.
“So?” he snapped. “Did you think I’d forgotten you had a kidney transplant?” It wasn’t a question because there was no way he could have not remembered that. After all, the donor kidney had come from Shanna.
Hell. More memories came. Jordan had been shot that day, too. The bullet had gone through her side and damaged both her kidneys. It’d been somewhat of a miracle that Shanna had been a match. Of course, that miracle came with a huge price tag since Shanna was dead.
“No. I didn’t think you’d forgotten at all.” She swallowed hard. “In fact, that’s why I thought you wanted me dead.”
“You’re not making sense.” He hooked his arm around her waist and forced her to get moving again.
He helped her into his truck, and she winced when she pressed his shirt against her head. Egan considered just driving her to the hospital, but the ambulance could arrive soon, and he could hand her off to the medics while staying behind to have a look at her vehicle. Specifically, that window. He wanted to see if the damage had indeed been caused by a bullet, and if so, then he could call out a CSI team.
“Yes, I am making sense,” Jordan snarled. “Two of the recipients are already dead, and I think I’m next.”
“Recipients?” he questioned.
She looked up at him. “You hadn’t heard?”
No. But Egan was 1,000 percent sure he wasn’t going to like what Jordan was about to say next.
“Breanna Culver, who got Shanna’s liver. Cordell Minter, who got one of her lungs. They’re both dead. Murdered.” Jordan’s last word didn’t have much sound. It was mostly breath.
Hell. If that was true...well, Egan didn’t want to go there just yet. “It could be a coincidence.” Though it would be an eerie one. “You’re positive they were murdered?” he challenged.
Jordan’s forehead bunched up. “Yes. Their organs were...missing. The organs they got from Shanna.”
Egan felt as if someone had punched him. “If that’s true, why didn’t someone tell me?”
“Because I only made the connection today. I knew the names of the recipients. I got them because, well, I don’t know why exactly. Maybe I wanted to know who else was alive because of Shanna. I thought it would give me some peace.”
Egan’s mind was reeling, but he wanted to tell her that she didn’t deserve peace. Neither of them did. “You’re positive about those two people? Positive they were murdered and their organs taken?”
She nodded and motioned to her head. “And now this. Someone shot me.”
No way could he just accept all of this just yet. “Your injury could have been a prank gone wrong. Or a hunter. It could have even been caused by a rock going through the window. A rock that maybe a passing truck kicked up from the road.”
Her expression let him know she wasn’t buying any of this. “What about the break-in at my house?”
He was clueless about that, too, but then he hadn’t kept up with Jordan.
“I was supposed to be home,” she continued. “But I’d left only about five minutes before to go into San Antonio to meet one of my old criminal informants. I wanted to ask him about the other two deaths. Anyway, while I was gone, someone broke in and set fire to the place.”
Again, that didn’t mean anyone was trying to murder her—though the “coincidences” were stacking up.
“That means there are only three of us left,” Jordan added a moment later. “Tori Judd, Irene Adair. And me.”
Egan hadn’t known the names of the people who’d gotten Shanna’s organs. He hadn’t wanted to know. But was it possible someone was going after these people. And if so, why?
One name instantly came to mind. Drew Paxton.
The man who’d put a lethal bullet in Shanna. A bullet that Drew had fired during a botched hostage situation that had killed Shanna.
“Drew Paxton is in jail on death row,” Egan heard himself mumble.
Jordan made a sound of agreement even though Egan hadn’t been talking to her. “And he hasn’t had any unusual visitors. You know, the kind of visitors he could have hired to kill people.”
Egan was well aware of that because while he hadn’t kept tabs on Jordan, he had done just that with Drew. It wasn’t a morbid curiosity, either. Shanna had been Drew’s parole officer, and the snake had developed a fixation on her. So much so that he’d broken into Shanna’s house in San Antonio and taken her hostage.
Jordan
