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danger he posed wasn’t past. They couldn’t afford for him to realize she wasn’t as cool and collected as she pretended.

“You bitch! You shot me!”

Bile rose in her throat. She’d gone hunting with her father as a girl, but she’d never hit anything. Now she’d shot a human being. Sure, he was a tweaked-out psychopath, but still she’d pulled the trigger and put a bullet in a person. The reality of it all made her nauseous. Counting to twenty, she pushed back her inner turmoil into a closet in her mind. She slammed the mental door shut. She’d deal with it later.

“You.” She continued to aim the gun at her human target. “Hands on your head.” Isn’t that what they always said on TV?

He shot her a scathing look, rolled to his stomach and intertwined his fingers behind his head. “This is not right. Why is everyone so against me?”

“I don’t think anyone is particularly thrilled with you right now.” She pressed back against the bar for support, worried her shaky legs wouldn’t hold out much longer.

Jake stood guard over him. “We need to tie him up. Anything handy nearby?”

“Suzie’s got a bar apron back here. Why don’t you use that to tie his hands behind him?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake kissed her on the top of her head and walked behind the bar to search for the apron.

Her stomach calmed somewhat, but her arms began to ache unbearably. Who knew guns could get so heavy, so fast?

“Got it.” Jake came back around, trussed up the man’s feet and wrists and reached for his cellphone. He leaned down and whispered something in the killer’s ear.

She couldn’t hear the words, but they must have had their desired effect. Jake stood and laughed, a cold sound masquerading as humor. The man’s body stiffened.

Claire lowered the gun to the bar and sank onto a stool. Her stomach twisted and cramped. She laid her head down on the dark wood. The cool surface calmed her riotous nerves, gave her a chance to think for a moment. She’d made the right move. Really, she never had another choice.

Sirens cried in the distance. With a relieved sigh, she slid off the stool. Her knees shook a bit, but she maintained her somewhat wobbly stance. She’d always heard it seemed like forever for law enforcement to respond. Now she understood what that meant.

“You okay? You’re not looking so hot.” Jake tilted his head.

Now was not the time to flake out. She’d have plenty of time for that when she finally made it home.

She tried to look reassuring, but her calmness wavered. “It’s over.”

“Ha!” the killer croaked from the floor. “You have no idea what you’re in for now, Honey Child. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be laying—”

Jake ended the tirade with a kick to the psycho’s stomach. Though bloody and battered, the killer looked…happy. His face lit by some evil inner light, he looked like someone who taunts you because he knows the best secret in the world but has no intention of sharing it.

“Honey, just look at your choice of lovers to know all is not right with your world. They always leave you in the end. Always.”

His maniacal laugh made her take an involuntary step back. Her throat constricted.

“I should have killed you last night at the house. I’d have saved you a lot of heartbreak. Literally.”

Jake squatted down and slammed his fist into the Voice of Doom’s face, silencing the killer.

Chapter Eleven

Looks like you only grazed him,” the EMT muttered as she packed up her equipment and stuffed it into a navy and black duffel bag.

“Maybe I’ll have better luck next time.” The words were out of Claire’s mouth before she had a chance to censor them.

The EMT looked up as she unwound a stethoscope from around her neck. Her severe French braid pulled her face tight, but couldn’t help with the bags puffing up underneath her exhaustion-dulled hazel eyes. They were the serious eyes of a woman who’d spent too many sleepless nights trying to keep the dying alive.

For a moment, Claire could hear her own heart beating as it pounded in her chest. Damn. Why couldn’t she think before she spoke? She opened her mouth to say something, anything, to mitigate the callousness of what she’d just said but nothing came out. Instead, she stood there with her mouth agape like a fish flopping around on the bottom of a boat.

The EMT looked away and stuffed the stethoscope into a zippered pocket. “Yep. I heard about this one. You probably don’t remember, but I was here the night you found that girl. We brought her to the morgue.” She closed the bag and slung it over a shoulder. “I wouldn’t blame you if you shot him right between the eyes. Just next time, even though officially I hope there isn’t a next time, please shoot him in the next county. I don’t like having to patch up tweaked-out murderers.” She gave a terse nod and joined her partner at Harvest’s door.

Claire stared after them as they walked out into the parking lot. She envied them. They got to escape the Voice of Doom. She had to stay in the same room with him until the investigators got a chance to talk to her. Unease crept along her skin as he watched her from across the room. Because of his injury, he remained on the floor surrounded by deputies. Their presence did little to ease the fear scattering her thoughts as her muscles tensed.

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