Carrots: A Shelby Nichols Adventure Read Online Free

on? It wasn’t possible to read people’s minds. That was insane! How could a simple head wound cause this to happen? Could I hear everyone’s thoughts, or just those connected with the robbery?
    No, that didn’t make sense. Besides the detectives, I’d heard other people as well. Probably even the doctor who sewed up my head yesterday, and last night it was Chris and the kids. At that point, I thought maybe all I needed was a good night’s sleep, but now I knew nothing had changed. It hadn’t gone away. This was real, and it scared the living daylights out of me.
    The phone rang, startling me so much I nearly jumped a foot. When I got my breathing under control, I gingerly picked it up. The caller ID said it was my mom. Would I hear her thoughts over the phone? “Hello?”
    “Shelby? Is that you? You sound funny. Are you all right?”
    “Oh, sure Mom.” I listened to silence, and brightened considerably.
    “Well you don’t sound fine.” Again there was nothing in the pause, and I sighed with relief. “Are you going to answer me?” she continued. “What’s going on?”
    “Sorry Mom. I thought someone was coming to the door, but they kept walking up the street.” I was lying, but it was the only thing I could think of at the moment. “Did Chris call you?”
    “Yes, and it’s a good thing he did before the paper came. Have you seen it?”
    “The newspaper?”
    “Oh, never mind,” she huffed. “How’s your head? Chris said you had to have stitches.”
    “Yeah, but it’s not too bad, although it still hurts some. I’m just a little out of it today, so I thought I’d take it easy.”
    “That’s a good idea. Do you need me to come over?”
    “No, not at all. I’ll be fine.” That came out a little forcefully, but I knew I wasn’t ready to face her thoughts.
    “Well, call if you need anything. Don’t worry about dinner. I’ll fix something, and bring it over later.”
    “Oh, that’s great. Thanks.”
    We disconnected, and I felt better. At least now I knew I couldn’t hear anyone over the phone. I had a sudden vision of being locked in my room, and talking to everyone I knew on the phone, kind of like the people in prison. Yikes! There had to be something else I could do. Maybe all I needed was time. Maybe once my head healed up, it would go away. If I just knew it would get better, I could handle it. Maybe I could make it go away by sheer force of will. The words, “go away and never come back” brought me up short. Where had I heard that before? Now I was driving myself crazy. Get a grip, Shelby!
    I wandered into the kitchen for breakfast. I wasn’t very hungry, but since breakfast is the most important meal of the day, I thought I’d better eat it. I decided to pretend that nothing was wrong. And if it was, maybe there was a bright side to all this. Maybe I could get in one of those poker tournaments, and win a million dollars.
    I read the paper while I ate. I was on my second bite of toast when I saw the article. My throat got tight, and I couldn’t swallow. There was a picture of me, and the other man who was shot. My picture wasn’t bad. I was sitting on a gurney holding a towel to my head, and talking to the nice paramedic. Besides being so nice, he was really good-looking.
    The other photo showed them loading the man who was shot into the ambulance. All the tubes and medical equipment covered up his face. He looked like he was in bad shape, and I realized that I didn’t know if he’d lived or died.
    I scanned the article and found out that he was in critical condition. It was a relief to know he was alive, and I really hoped he’d make it. I was surprised to find how thorough the newspaper was. Not only were Dimples and Williams listed as the officers in charge of the investigation, but it also included both my name, and the other victim’s. His name was Carl Rogers, an average guy who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kind of like me.
    There were