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“Great. From this moment on, consider yourself deputized.”
Rick Hart was ex-military. Everyone in Hamlet knew that. Just like they knew he was born there, left, and came back a different man. He settled not too far from the eastern edge of the gulley, where he lived by himself, spent his days working at the barbershop and his nights down at Thirsty’s where he tried to forget those long years in between.
A big man, pushing six and a half feet with a frame that was still more muscle than solid fat, he wasn’t the type of guy you wanted to run into in the dark. But when it came to having a practiced eye scanning a crime scene involving a gun, there was no one better in Hamlet. He definitely knew his way around a weapon.
Rick was crouching down, staring in the bushes that lined the front of Lucas’s office building when they drove up the street, Caitlin’s cruiser in the lead.
When it became clear that he had every intention of following her back to the scene, she offered him a lift, not even a little surprised when he climbed back in his Mustang and revved the engine. Lucas always accused her of being the stubborn one in their marriage. Caitlin long ago decided that was only because he was too pigheaded to see just how stubborn he was.
Because he had told her that he’d been standing in his driveway when he got shot, Caitlin kept it clear. She parked on the side of the road, Lucas coasting up right behind her. Grabbing her hat and her notepad, she clambered out of her cruiser and just observed the scene.
Before they left her house, she made Lucas give her a rapid-fire interview. Putting her own emotions aside, she seamlessly slipped right into the role of Hamlet’s sheriff. Once she thought she had enough information, she drove over to Lucas’s office to see if Rick had made any headway in the investigation. It wasn’t worth it to fight Lucas over his following her so she barely tried. As long as he understood that she was in charge, and he was the victim, they would get along fine.
On her initial sweep, Caitlin saw the divot in the brick facade where the first shot hit. Her stomach clenched. What if the shooter’s aim was better? Would she be standing over his dead body now?
Ducking her head, staring blindly at the notepad she clutched in trembling hands, she tried to conceal that panic that overwhelmed her.
It was one thing when it was an outsider. Turner. Sullivan. She could keep a cool, level head when dealing with their deaths. But to imagine Luc—her Luc… she gulped and forced herself to push it to the side. He came to her for help and, goddammit, she was going to do her job if it killed her.
Rick rose to his considerable height when he realized he had company. He lumbered over to Caitlin, towering over her petite form as he moved closer to her. Very close, Lucas noticed. The newly-made deputy bent down, murmuring something under his breath. Whatever it was, Rick had meant it only for Caitlin’s ears. She brushed his concerns back with a flippant wave of her hand.
“Yes, I know he’s here. I let him come with me,” she said. “Lucas was the one they shot at. I thought he might have a better idea where the shots were fired from, or what they hit.”
With a small nod, Rick greeted Lucas with a curt, “Doc.”
“Hart. How’s the search going? Did you find anything?”
Caitlin’s eyes flashed angrily as she bobbed her head up from her notepad, glaring at him. She absolutely hated it when he tried to butt in on any of her investigations. It didn’t matter that he was actually involved in this one. She pointed at him, then flung her arm out wide. He got the drift and, his hands held up in front of him in a silent apology, backed off.
“I’ll just watch. That better, Cait?”
As if he hadn’t said anything, Caitlin flipped her notebook shut and tilted her head back so that she was looking up at Rick. “Tell me you found something.”
“Yeah. I was gonna buzz you, tell you not to waste time making the trip but then I figured you might want to check out the scene yourself. I’m still looking for the slug in the bushes, but I got something alright.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a sandwich bag with two spent shell casings. “I saw the chip on the brick and realized that the shot had to come from this direction. Since the doctor would’ve seen anyone shooting at him, it made sense to me that the shooter was in the trees. It didn’t take much searching to find these.”
Caitlin took the bag from Rick, holding it up so that she got a better look at its contents. She recognized the casings at once. Hoping she was wrong—praying she was wrong—she glanced up at Rick again, this time in confirmation.
He nodded. “Definitely a .40 caliber. You’re gonna want to send it out for ballistics to be sure, but I don’t think I’m wrong. Best guess, eyeballing it, is that it’s a Glock 22.”
Her hand went right to her holster.
A Glock 22. Her preferred carry, and the same model worn by everyone in the sheriff’s department. She closed her eyes and huffed.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
20
At half past two the next afternoon, the intercom chimed.
Tess was sitting in the armchair in her rented room, absently flipping through the pages of a magazine three months old. As soon as she heard the soft tinkling sound, she closed the magazine and rested it on top of the chair’s arm. She’d been waiting for this call.
Truth be told, she expected it to come last night. As soon as Lucas dropped her off, making her promise that she wouldn’t tell Maria about the shooting because he knew it would only upset his sister, she thought someone from the sheriff’s department would want to talk to her.
She knew the doctor was only protecting her by leaving her locked in the bed and breakfast, but she already had a good idea how Sheriff De Angelis saw her. It would be a damn miracle if the red-haired she-demon didn’t immediately book Tessa for attempted murder of her beloved ex-husband.
Tess was well aware she was being bitter. A threatening note one night, being shot at another, all on top of the sudden shock of losing her husband so violently… Tess decided she was owed a little bitterness. If she wasn’t the temptress trying to seduce the local men, then she was a black widow who was leaving bodies in her wake. Whatever happened to the kindhearted former kindergarten teacher just trying to have a little love in her life?
The intercom chimed again. It sounded more impatient this time.
