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Where was he hiding and who was pulling his strings? “Do you think the sniper and the guy sending you text messages are the same person?”
“No. Morcos hired someone, likely a team, to tail Bart in an attempt to find me or torture me with his death.”
“How can you be so sure?”
She brushed by him on the way to the bathroom. “Because Bakr doesn’t have the patience or the skill to make the shot that took Bart down today. But he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to play mind games. Hence they aren’t the same person.”
“You don’t think he can change?”
“Not a chance. He doesn’t do the wet work. His type considers it a menial task.”
“Today’s sniper was no slouch.” All the more worrisome that no one had spotted him anywhere in town yet.
She zipped up her suitcase. “Is there anyone in town—someone not a stranger—who could have taken that shot?”
He’d been wondering that himself. “No one in Haleswood has any reason to take a shot at you for any price.”
“That we know of. Sheriff Cochran should check recently filed missing persons reports.”
“Trust me, if someone isn’t where they’re supposed to be, we find out at the Rooster before anyone has time to file a report.”
“Putting a bullet through a window might have been a ransom payment.”
“Come on. You’re suggesting a pretty sophisticated and detailed network in a short amount of time.”
“That happens to be Bakr’s specialty.” Her shoulders slumped. “Call it charisma with a life-threatening edge, he inspires a certain loyalty. As for time, that’s irrelevant. For all we know he’s been working on this since the day I screwed up that rescue.
“Following the idea that he hired someone local…” Her voice trailed off while her fingers worked the pendant back and forth again. “That implies he didn’t need to follow Bart to find me.”
A thought which was obviously taking a toll on her. “Let’s get to Ruth’s place and then you can figure it out.”
“It’s a plan.” She winced as she hefted a tote over her shoulder.
He held out a hand. “Let me carry it.”
“I’ve got it.”
“I know, but we’re about to leave your motel room. We’ll be visible on Main Street.”
“So what?”
“If my mother or grandmother hears that you were carrying your own luggage I’ll never live it down.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating.”
“Nope.” He motioned for the bag again.
“But if they see you carrying my luggage, they’ll think my shoulder isn’t healing.”
He hadn’t expected that argument. “Nah.”
“Umm, yeah.”
“Well, that will get cleared up when we get back from the range on Saturday.”
“What?” The shoulder bag fell to the floor. “You still want to go?”
“Why wouldn’t we? Unless Ross vetoes it as a security risk. Or have you changed your mind?”
