Scrunching her nose as she squinted, Tessa got a good look at the cut. She shook her head. “I think I should put on some antibiotic cream, then either gauze or some plaster.”
“And I think those nursing classes paid off.” When Tessa’s golden eyes widened in surprise, he let out a small chuckle. “If it was a flesh wound, I’d need stitches. I’m lucky it was just a graze. Sometimes they bleed too much, but nothing important was hit.”
“You were.”
“What?”
Tessa was dabbing the deep abrasion with some of the white ointment she found in his supplies. “You said nothing important was hit. You’re wrong. You were.”
Lucas didn’t know what to say in response to that so he didn’t say anything. He waited until she had finished applying the gauze pad and wrapping his arm with the bandage to speak up. Though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he also knew he had no choice. “We have to tell Caity.”
Tess cleaned up the wrappers before pulling off her bloody gloves and adding it to the pile of blood-soaked cotton balls. She would get rid of the medical waste in a second. First, they had to have this conversation. “Do you really think we should?”
“She’s the sheriff. Last time I checked, shooting at someone was a crime. She has to know that I was hit.”
He had a point. “Let me ask you a question. Hamlet has a population of under two hundred, but it’s a rural area. It’s got a big mountain on one side, that deathtrap gulch at the entrance, and tons of trees. Maybe guns are common here, maybe not, I don’t know. Do you?”
Lucas’s lips thinned. “We don’t hunt here. Not too many of us carry guns because there’s never any crime in Hamlet. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s just anyone who is—or was—in law enforcement.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Tessa, what are you saying?”
Clasping her hands in front of her, Tess looked at the way her fingers interlocked. It was something to stare at that wasn’t the accusation in Lucas’s icy blue stare. She felt that chill all the way down to her bones.
When he continued to stare, waiting for her answer, she looked up at him with worry written in every premature line in her face. “What if she—”
“Caitlin would never take a shot at me.”
“No,” she agreed wholeheartedly. “But would she take a shot at me?”
And that, right there, was the elephant in the room she’d been trying to pretend didn’t exist. Lucas was the one who got hit.
Was he the target?
She thought of the note no one could find, the implied threat about what would happen to her if she didn’t disappear, and had her answer.
“Shit.”
Tessa had to agree with that sentiment, too.
19
“I hate that you got shot.” Leaning into Lucas, her fingers ghosted over the bandage, a feathered caress.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Tessa didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Her sad smile told him she disagreed. The guilt tugging on her lips made him wish that he had managed to dodge the bullet.
They were parked outside of Ophelia, sitting in his idling Mustang, both of them unwilling to leave the other after the scare they experienced together. Lucas was behind the wheel, running his palms anxiously along the leather rim.
Tessa had wanted to drive but, as she discovered, the man was stubborn to a fault—even after being shot. No matter how hard she tried to charm him, he refused to let anyone else get into the driver’s seat. Even with the dull ache throbbing his fresh wound, he insisted on it. And if his arm ached every time he made a left turn? Oh well. It wasn’t like they could stay at the office.
Lucas didn’t even bother taking out his communicator. After wrestling his keys away from Tess, he loaded her up in his car and headed straight over to his sister’s place instead. His office was in a more secluded part of Hamlet, tucked near the foot of the mountain that acted as one of its natural borders. No one was around for miles. He usually liked the solitude when he was at work. Now he couldn’t get away fast enough.
And if he wanted to make sure no one was coming near Maria, who could blame him for looking out for her? She was his precious younger sister, Tessa a vulnerable outsider. Ophelia’s security was the best money could buy. Knowing they were safe inside would make him feel a lot better when he had to leave them behind.
Using his good arm, he moved his hand to rest against the buckle of his seatbelt. “Do you want me to walk you in?”
“I’d rather go to see the sheriff with you,” she retorted.
They'd had the same argument the whole way back to Ophelia. Tessa couldn’t understand why he was going to see Sheriff De Angelis on his own when they were both there when the shots were fired. Just because Lucas was the one who was hit, it didn’t mean that Tessa didn’t have anything to add. She was the one who heard the fateful sound of something in the woods the second before the first shot rang out. She could help.
Besides, Tess hated the idea that he would be alone with Sheriff De Angelis when he told her about the shooting. She didn’t know how she’d pull it off, but the sheriff would probably find some way to blame her for Lucas getting shot.
Lucas was adamant. Though he didn’t come out and say it, it was obvious that he believed she was the one they were aiming at. It couldn’t possibly be a coincidence that, days after Jack Sullivan was murdered, someone fired a gun at the exact spot his wife was standing at.
No matter how much she tried to convince him otherwise, Lucas refused to budge and let her go with him. He wanted her back in Ophelia, secure behind locked doors.
“I need you to stay here. It’ll go a lot better if I talk to her on my own, trust me.”
Those were the magic words. Exhaling softly, it was like all the fight left her. Tess nodded. Trust him. Okay. It wasn’t like he hadn’t already taken a bullet for her. It didn’t matter that it was a graze, or that she bandaged it up as best she could. If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have been hurt.
“I can make it on my own,” she said. She clicked her seatbelt open, let it whoosh behind her. “Good luck with the sheriff, Doctor.”
There was such defeat in her voice, he almost followed her out of the car. Only the fact that she glanced back at him as she reached the steps kept him in his seat. Lucas couldn’t let her see how much she affected him. She gave him a tiny wave that he returned with a nod, then entered Ophelia.
He waited two minutes after she closed the door behind her before he pulled away from the curb.
Lucas met Caitlin as she was storming out of her house. Having parked behind her cruiser, he climbed out of his car in time to intercept her before she got into her own vehicle.
She was still dressed in her uniform. The bottom two buttons were undone, though, like she’d been in a rush to put her shirt back on and fasten them back up. Given the amount of time that passed since her visit to his office, he figured she’d already been home and changed out of her uniform before something enticed her to get dressed again.
Lucas’s gaze strayed to her belt. Her holster was there, her pistol secured in its place. Interesting. If only he could remember if she’d been carrying earlier when she was in his office. Crime was so low in Hamlet, the members of the HSD rarely wore them as part of their standard uniform. He could count the number of times he’d seen her wear her gun out on a routine call on one hand. This wasn’t usual.
Then again, he didn’t routinely get shot at either. As far as he was concerned, “usual” flew out the window a couple of days ago.
She saw him waiting by her car, barely sparing him a second glance as she snapped at him to step away from the cruiser.
“Caity—”
“No, Luc. I don’t have time for you right now. Willie just buzzed me. There’s been reports of something sounding like gunshots on the mountain side of town. I’ve got to check it out.”
“But—”
“Wait.” Pushing off the cruiser’s
window, she whirled on Lucas. “Your office is mountainside. Did you hear anything? Maybe like an hour ago?”
This was going to be bad. He already knew it. It was why he angled his body so that most of the gauze bandage was shadowed. He covered the rest with his hand, purposely hiding the injury. Though he crossed his hands over his chest, he kept his stance light, relaxed. When Caitlin found out he’d been tagged, shit was gonna hit the fan.
“Actually, yes. That’s why I’m here. I want you to promise me something first, though. Promise you won’t freak out no matter what I tell you, alright?”
She waved her hand anxiously, indicating he should get on with it. “Yeah, yeah. Sure. But hurry up. I’ve got be to be going. If you heard something down by your office, I really gotta go check it out.”
“Okay.” Slowly, dreading her reaction, he lifted his hand from his arm, revealing the gauze wrapped around his bicep.
She sucked in her breath through tightly gritted teeth the second she realized what he was showing her. And he knew that he’d been right.
“You promised you wouldn’t freak out,” he reminded her.
Her eyes flashed angrily as she glared at him. “I lied.”
Lucas started to unwrap the bandage. Maybe if she saw that he’d been barely nicked—
“Look, it’s just a graze. I’m fine.”
She never took her unblinking gaze off his face. “Who. Did this. To you?”
He was used to Caitlin’s explosive temper. Throwing a temper tantrum, yelling, crying… that was her normal. He would never admit it, but when she shut down like this, her voice barely a whisper, it scared him. He never knew quite what his ex was capable of.
“I don’t know.”
“Lucas.”
“Honest, Cait, I have no idea. Shots came out of the trees, I ducked and covered.” Lucas tightened his gauze, tucking the tail under the bandage so that it stayed secure. “I was more concerned with getting out of there in one piece. Getting the identity of the shooter was the last thing on my mind.”
She nodded, her expression calm and collected. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll find them because there’s no way I’ll let them get away with this. No one takes aim at one of mine. By the time I get through with them, they’ll wish they turned the gun on themselves. As for you, I want you under lockdown. Go home, Luc, and stay there. I need you safe. Until I finish processing the scene, I have to know you’re safe.”
That was more like Caitlin. Taking control, certain that she could save the world. If she had to lock Lucas in his bedroom so that she knew where he was, she would do it.
But Lucas would never let her.
His lips thinning in frustration, he shook his head. “No.”
“I am the sheriff, and if I tell you that you’re going under lockdown, Doctor, you will damn well listen to me.”
If she thought he would let her win just because she brought their titles into it, she was wrong.
“I have work I have to do. You can’t stop me.”
“I can,” she retorted. “I’ll do a lot worse before I let some lowlife take another shot at you.”
So that’s what this was about. He thought she understood. Obviously, he was wrong. “Caitlin. Cait,” he said, softening his voice in a bid to get her attention. Wild-eyed and fuming, her hand straying to the gun at her side, Caitlin looked ready to run headfirst into a firefight. “I don’t think you understand. They weren’t shooting at me.”
That got through to her. She moved back as if he'd shoved her away from him. In her world, Lucas was the only one who mattered. It wouldn’t have occurred to her that he hadn’t been the intended victim. He was everything.
But if the bullet wasn’t supposed to hit him, then that meant—
Her composure cracked. “You weren’t alone.” She blinked. “That Sullivan woman was with you.”
For one second, he thought about lying. Caity already had it out for the poor widow. He didn’t want to give her any more ammunition. Then he remembered how quickly word spread that he’d taken Tessa for brunch. Just because he hadn’t seen anyone around his office when he got shot, it didn’t mean there weren’t any witnesses. Someone was bound to have seen them together. It would get back to Caitlin and she would wonder if there was more to his being shot than it seemed. With his luck, Caitlin would concoct some convoluted idea that Tessa was the one who pulled the trigger.
No, it was better to tell the truth. Especially since, by Tessa’s own admission, she’d seen the sheriff as she walked up to his office. Caitlin knew she was there. And now she would know that she stayed a few minutes longer.
“Yes, she was still there,” he admitted.
“Okay. That’s it. I want her out. Gone. Today.”
That was the last thing he expected her to say. As sheriff, Caitlin was fanatically devoted to keeping the peace in Hamlet. Even though Jack Sullivan was an outsider, his murder cast a dark shadow over their tightknit community. If Caitlin set loose her only lead, she was basically admitting that she was giving up on finding Sullivan’s killer.
“But your case,” he argued. “Don’t you need her to figure out who killed Jack Sullivan?”
“Right now, I don’t care. And what if I can’t? He was an outsider, he probably deserved it. Right, Luc?”
His whole expression went flat. Caitlin was throwing his own words back at him on purpose. Standing over Mack Turner’s mangled remains more than a year ago, he’d said the same exact thing to the sheriff. For what he tried to do to Maria, he deserved far worse than to accidentally run his car off the road and into the gulley. Lucas didn’t regret the man’s death, and Caitlin repeating his callous words didn’t make him change his mind.
“It’s not the same and you know it.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Because Turner slipped into Maria’s room and she didn’t want it? Then, yeah, it’s not the same because Sullivan’s wife is practically begging for it. From you, from Mase, it don’t matter who. She doesn’t plan to be without a husband for long.”
Lucas fought the urge to lash out at her. “This again? It was an office visit, med pick-up—”
“And the coffeehouse visit was just brunch, right? Come off it. She's no good for you, Luc. Me? I would wait for you forever and you know it. That girl doesn’t know the meaning of loyal.”
Caitlin was wrong. Dead wrong. Since he couldn’t explain his absolute certainty, he clamped his mouth shut. Probably a good thing, too, or he would feel pressed to point out that he neither asked her to nor wanted her to wait for him. Divorce was final, he got that. He was beginning to think she never would.
But it wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about them. So instead of antagonizing Caitlin, he tried to calm her by reaching out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Lucas stretched too far, though, and a shock of pain shot up his arm. Cursing under his breath, he tried to hide his grimace and failed.
Caitlin caught the flash of pain. Knowing he was hurting hit her like a suckerpunch to the gut. She immediately stopped fighting him.
“Okay, I’m sorry. That’s not important right now. Finding the bastard who did this is. I don’t care if he was aiming for that outsider. He hit you, Luc, and I promise you this: he’ll pay.”
Before he got the chance to reply, Caitlin snatched her communicator off her belt. She turned one knob decisively, changed to another channel, and gripped the receiver button so tightly, her fingers turned white from pressure. Her radio sent out a call, and they waited to see if her buzz would be answered.
Crackle. “Hart speaking.”
“Ricky, this is Sheriff De Angelis. You know how you’re always telling me that you’re willing to lend a hand if I ever need you?”
A pause, followed by a very gruff, yet very hesitant, “Yeah. I remember.”
“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. He lived in the small house by himself, spending his days working at the barbershop. His nights? Those he spent down at Thirsty’s where he tried to forget the nine years he’d been gone.
A big man, pushing six and a half feet with a bulky 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 into 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?
Don't Trust Me (Hamlet Book 1) Page 19