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A shiver slid over her body. Fear or…desire?

“Breakfast!” John Henry bellowed.

She jumped.

Yeah, John Henry’s bellow had that effect on people. The former football player appeared in the doorway, with a tray of pancakes in his big hands. The fluffiest, prettiest pancakes Hunter had ever seen. He was pretty sure some of them were even chocolate chip.

Shelby whirled toward John Henry.

“Ma’am.” He dipped his head toward her.

“Uh, hi.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her right ear.

John Henry never even glanced at her hearing aid. His gaze remained on her. “If you’re tracking killers with Hunter, you need breakfast. Can’t catch killers without a good breakfast.”

“I didn’t realize that was a rule,” she said.

He shrugged. “Why do you think it’s the most important meal of the day?”

“One more time, Shelby, I can handle Nate. You can be safe here with John Henry. I’ll take care of him.”

She slid into the passenger seat of the rental as Hunter held the door for her. “He will never agree to see you.”

“I can be incredibly persuasive.”

“Hi.” John Henry waved from his position a few feet away. “You can stay or I can trail you both to the penitentiary. Keep eyes on you. Make sure no one else tries to stalk you and run you off the road in some quiet, secluded spot.”

Well, that was a possibility that she had not considered. “Thank you for that, John Henry.”

What could have been a smile played at his lips, but, otherwise, his expression remained serious. “You’re welcome.”

Her attention shifted back to Hunter. “I’m going with you. I have questions for Nate. I need to see his face when I ask those questions.”

“Fair enough.” Hunter nodded. Shut the door. Paused just a moment to speak with John Henry. Her eyes narrowed as she watched them because she had the feeling those two were plotting. But, in moments, Hunter had rounded the front of the vehicle, he’d slid into the driver’s seat, and John Henry had the garage door opening so they could back out.

“What did you tell him?” she asked as curiosity simmered inside of her.

“Told him to make sure no assholes put a bomb on our car while we’re chatting with Nate. Really don’t want to come out of that prison and have the ride explode on us.”

Okay. That was important. “I’d prefer no explosion, too.”

“I’m trying to figure out when the bastard put the bomb on us before. Could have been at the hotel. Jonah was supposed to be getting access to their security cameras and seeing if he could spot anyone in the parking lot near our ride. But I’m thinking with two murders, he’s backed the hell up in terms of investigating.” He eased them out of the garage. Began heading down the long drive. “The bomb could have been placed when we were at the DeSoto Dorm, while we were inside looking at Tiffany’s murder wall. Hell, it could have even been done before all that—could have been placed at the fountain. Or at the diner.”

Her hands tightened into fists in her lap. “That means we have plenty of suspects.” Their vehicle approached the gate that secured the property.

“Yes. That means we certainly do.”

Not reassuring.

“Jonah!” Kimber strained to see around the uniformed cops. She’d caught a glimpse of Jonah’s dark hair moments before when she first approached the administration building. “Jonah, what is happening here? Why are these people blocking me? Why is there yellow police tape everywhere?” One piece of tape flapped in the wind and hit her shoulder, so she yanked it out of the way. “Jonah!”

“This is a crime scene.” A young, female cop glowered at her. “No one is getting in or out of this building until our techs are done here.”

“Crime scene?” She craned her head. “Is this because of what happened last night?” Her focus darted back to the woman.

“What do you know about it?” Suspicion flashed on the cop’s face.

“Uh, I know that someone pushed me down the stairs.” She had plenty of bruises this morning. “I know that I was scared. I know that Jonah searched the place—” Kimber caught sight of him again. “Jonah!”