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*****
"What is it?"
"Bad news," Wyatt said tersely as he hunkered down to feel the man's pulse. "The car is on the road to your place, and the driver is down. Lynn is not here."
The silence that followed his words lengthened. "I am on my way."
"I am going to call it in." Wyatt was about to when he heard dispatch coming through on his radio.
"What's that?"
"We have a woman on the line saying she was in an accident on the road leading to Fallow Street. She said she has been shot, and her name is Lynn Peterson."
"I am on my way." Tugging out his phone, he was about to dial Callum when his car stopped.
"We have word on her."
"Where is she?" He asked, jumping out of the vehicle.
"She is hurt, but she called nine-one-on."
*****
The pain was searing, and she was fighting not to go under. Something was wrong with her arm, and she realized belatedly that she had been shot. Easing up carefully, her head swimming with the effort, she sidled around the car to see if he was still there. A scream rose inside her throat at the sight before her.
He was crumpled against the base of the trunk, his neck at an odd angle, his eyes staring, obviously dead. Clamping down on the nausea, she continued talking to the operator.
"He is dead. He is dead. Oh God, he is dead." Sliding down onto the ground, she fainted.
"She is over here!" The uniforms had arrived a minute before they did. "The ambulance is on its way. She has a pulse, faint and thready, but there is one."
"Secure the scene," Wyatt ordered. "The guy is dead?"
"Yes, detective."
"It's no use telling you to stay back, is there?" Wyatt asked dryly as they rushed to where Lynn was. One of the officers had covered her with a blanket.
"Not a chance in hell." They reached her at the same time.
"Don't move her. The paramedics- Ah, here they are." The ambulance screeched to a halt, and the EMTs jumped out.
"I think she has been shot; her left arm is bleeding," Wyatt told them.
"Give us some room."
"I am riding with her," Callum told them firmly as they lifted her onto the gurney.
"Lacerations to her neck and face, and yes, this is a GSW to the left arm. It looks like a through and through. Her pulse isthready - we have to get her to the hospital right away; she has lost a considerable amount of blood."
"Go on ahead," Wyatt urged. "I will get there when I am through here."
*****
Wyatt dragged weary fingers through his hair and accepted the cup of coffee Callum handed him.
"Any word?"
He shook his head. "I called Jason, and he is on his way here. Jack wanted to come, but I told him I would call as soon as we heard anything. I cannot stand his chatter right now." Putting away the cup of coffee, he wandered over to the window. "Is the bastard dead?"
