The shooter knew I was cleaning out Mom’s house.
He knew my routine well enough to photograph me outside the bank.
He could know where I live.
Doc watches the realization cross my face.
“You’re staying here.”
I turn on him. “Sheriff Tate already gave the order. You don’t need to repeat it.”
“I wanted to make sure you heard him.”
“I heard him.”
“Your expression says you’re planning a way around him.”
“My expression says I don’t like you.”
“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”
This time Trigger laughs.
I give him a look that shuts him up.
Wolf retrieves a ring of keys from beneath the bar.
“Room Five is ready. Nora put fresh sheets on the bed yesterday.”
“I don’t need a room.”
“You do unless you intend to sleep on the floor.”
“I’m not sleeping.”
Doc’s gaze passes over the cut above my eyebrow.
“You need rest.”
“I’ve had more serious injuries from rosebushes.”
“We’ll discuss your dangerous gardening habits later.”
“There won’t be a later.”
Something unreadable passes through his eyes.
I regret the words before I can stop them.
Not because I want a later with him.
I don’t even know him.
But I remember what he said.
I didn’t need her to tell me I had no right to be part of your life.
Doc doesn’t expect to stay in Eagle River after the danger passes.