Fractured by Wendy Byrne

lieutenant nor Malone came right out and said it, he had to figure there was some suspicion that whatever happened was an inside job.
    â€œFeds? Why would they take a pot shot at me?”
    He sucked in a breath and tried to ignore his duplicity with Malone. “Your father gets out of prison through some miracle that has yet to come to light. He shows up on your doorstep on the same night you were shot at.”
    She held up a shaky finger. “Wait a minute, what are you saying?”
    â€œI’m listing what we know.” He took a swig of beer. “Which reminds me, when I asked my cousin’s friend what happened at Stateville, he gave me some line about your father getting stabbed.” He held out his hand. “Work with me on this. I got to thinking maybe for the same reason the Feds gave your father a get out of jail free card. If I follow that line, I’ve got to think that shot taken at you might be more than a coincidence.”
    â€œYou think it’s all connected? You think the Feds sprung my dad?” Her hands stilled their incessant movement.
    He nodded. “It’s the only explanation. We’ve been looking at it all wrong thinking about the embarrassment factor for Stateville with him being their first escapee.” While Malone didn’t admit to it; he also didn’t deny it. Landry figured that had to mean something. And while Isabella wasn’t putting all her cards on the table, he was. Most of them, anyway.
    â€œWhy didn’t I see this before? Prisons are the worst gossip pits. If somebody made an escape, there would have been rumblings all through the place regardless of any cover-up attempt by the powers that be. Instead, they let it leak he’d been stabbed. If all that’s true, I’d like to ask Malone why he insinuated I had something to do with my father’s escape.”
    Good point. Landry still couldn’t figure out how that fit into the whole scheme of things, or if it was another red herring planted by Malone and his cronies.
    â€œAsking the Feds isn’t going to get you anywhere. They’ll never admit to what they’re up to. By the time you leave the room, they’ll have you convinced Martians are involved somehow.” He didn’t want her stirring up too much trouble with Malone. At least not yet. Not until he could weasel a little more information out of him.
    â€œMartians? They’d have to talk pretty long and fast to get me to believe that one.” For the first time in a couple of days, she seemed to relax as she stuffed the handkerchief back into her pocket. “Russians maybe, but there’s no way I’d fall for Martians.” She giggled. “Really, Landry who talks about Martians anymore? Didn’t that discussion end sometime in the sixties?”
    â€œMaybe I’m spending too much time with my grandmother.”
    â€œAh, that explains it.”
    * * *
    Isabella sucked in a deep breath, relishing the familiar minty smell and the soft chest chair texture beneath her fingertips. For once she didn’t resist, instead wallowing in the peace and comfort surrounding her.
    But as her eyes popped open, realization struck. Somehow she’d become nestled into the crook of Landry’s arm. How had that happened? She’d like to blame him for violating their ‘safety zone,’ but evidence told a different story.
    That was the problem. She was her own worst enemy. Getting used to Landry hanging around ratcheted up her vulnerability and, worse yet, contributed to her dependence.
    As carefully as possible she disengaged and slid out of bed. Next, she tiptoed into the bathroom, showered and dressed in record time. She needed space.
    Besides, after their discussion last night, she had a lot of things she wanted to investigate. She’d love to pay a visit to Malone and shake the truth out of him, even though that effort would be futile.
    He or one of his pea-brained