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Blowing out a breath, she said, “I guess you’re right.”
She’d no sooner said that than there was a knock on the door. Marlowe audibly caught her breath as she exchanged looks with Bowie.
“I really doubt that a hit man would knock on the door,” he told Marlowe. Still, he knew it didn’t hurt to be cautious. Moving her behind him, Bowie made his way to the door. “Who is it?” he asked, one hand on the doorknob.
“It’s Chief Barco,” the gruff voice on the other side of the door answered. “I just got a 911 alert transmitted to my radio. Are you all right, Ms. Colton?”
Marlowe moved Bowie out of her way and opened the door. A sense of relief went through her as she looked up at the tall, slightly paunchy but commanding fifty-two-year-old police chief. She’d never been so happy to see the bald-headed man before in her life.
“I’m fine, Chief. But the bullet came really close to Bowie over here.” Saying that, she turned toward Bowie, and for the first time since the incident occurred, she saw that there was blood at the very top of his ear. He had been grazed. “Your ear,” she cried, her eyes widening. “You’re bleeding.”
Bowie ran his finger along the region where she seemed to be looking. There was just the slightest trace of red on his fingertips. He shrugged as if this was no big deal.
“I’ve done worse shaving,” he assured her.
“You shave with bullets?” she asked Bowie sarcastically, attempting to cover up her initial horrified reaction.
“Let me get this straight,” the chief said, slightly confused. “You two were together when this shooting happened?”
Like everyone else in Mustang Valley, the chief knew the Coltons and the Robertsons to be sworn enemies. Finding them together must have seemed rather odd.
“Yes,” Marlowe answered for the both of them. “I’ll show you where the bullet came from.” She led the chief to the window.
The chief studied the shattered glass closely. He frowned at the hole and looked around the area for signs of more damage. But for now, the window seemed to be the only casualty.
Barco turned toward Bowie. “Do you have any idea who might have wanted to see you dead, Mr. Robertson?” he asked him.
Marlowe spoke up, interrupting the two men. “Robertson seems to think that I was the target.”
The chief’s frown deepened. This surely did not fall under the heading of “good news” in his book. “And why is that?” he asked.
“Well, for one thing, it’s her condo,” Bowie answered before Marlowe could say anything further.
“You do have a point,” the chief allowed. “Any other reason for you to suspect that Ms. Colton was the intended target?”
Bowie was forced to shrug, at least for now. “Fresh out of ideas, I’m afraid,” he said.
When the chief looked toward her for her input, Marlowe shrugged her shoulders, as well. “Other than the usual crazies who resent my family, I haven’t a clue,” she confessed.
The chief made a few notes in his battered notebook, then closed it, tucking it back into his jacket pocket.
“I’ll have my people ask around, see if anyone saw or heard anything unusual,” he told Marlowe. “I can post one of the officers outside your door if that would make you feel safer, Ms. Colton,” he offered.
Marlowe smiled. “Thanks for the offer, Chief, but doing that would be cutting down your force by a third,” she told him.
The entire Mustang Valley police force was small, but then, considering how quiet the town usually was, only a few law enforcement officers were more than adequate to keep the peace.
As if to contradict the thought, just then the front door, which Marlowe hadn’t bothered locking when the chief came in, flew open, rattling the beveled glass in the upper portion of the door so hard, for a moment it seemed in danger of breaking, as well.
“Marlowe, are you all right?” her father demanded as he came storming into the condo. He was closely followed by Callum, his son and Marlowe’s twin.
“Are you hurt?” her brother asked at almost the same time.
“I’m fine, really,” Marlowe assured both her father and her twin.
Both men stopped dead the next moment as they realized that Marlowe had more than just the chief with her and that the other man standing next to her was not part of the police force.
Payne suddenly looked as if thunderbolts were about to come shooting out of his eyes. “What the hell is Franklin’s whelp doing here?” the senior Colton demanded, glaring at Bowie. “Is he the one who tried to sho
