“The crew needs room, guys. Let’s clear out.” Though his voice is friendly, there’s no mistaking he’s giving an order.
Still standing in front of the window, I stare at the bullet hole and the hairline fractures across the glass. It’s so small for something that did so much damage. I wrap my arms around my waist in a futile effort to battle the chill encasing me.
In the background, Art is barking orders at the paramedics and simultaneously offering words of comfort to Francine.
“I’m okay,” she mumbles again. “It just caught me off-guard as all.”
“Francine,” I whisper before turning around. “You’ve been shot.” My legs don’t cooperate very well so I move toward her in a clumsy, lurching fashion. When I reach her, I take one of her hands in both of mine and hold it tight. “And I’m so sorry.”
She blinks up at me, her eyes glazed with pain. “Not your fault. I should have ducked.”
I try to smile, but the muscles in my face aren’t cooperating. Guilt eats its way through my stomach, and bile rises up into my throat. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose.
Adam’s hands land heavily on my shoulders. “She needs to go now. We’ll follow her to the hospital.”
“I’ve got the car outside, Art, if you want to ride with me,” Gary offers, his hat in his hands.
“You’re damned right, I do, and I want you to use sirens.” He’s still giving instructions when he trudges out of the room.
Reluctantly, I release Francine’s hand and assure her I’ll see her at the hospital. Once the paramedics lift the stretcher and carry her out of the bedroom, I drop to the floor with my head between my knees.
Adam kneels in front of me. “Deep breaths.” He rubs my back with a slow, circular motion. “Breathe in through your nose and out your mouth and keep your head down.”
“When I saw her there, I thought…” I stop and shake my head. Francine is alive. That’s all that matters. Not what I thought or what might have happened.
“The paramedics said the bullet skimmed her side. It’s a lot of blood, and the shock of the pain caused her to pass out. But she’s going to be fine. They’ll stitch her up, probably keep her overnight, but she’s going to be okay.”
“This shouldn’t have happened.” I look up at the window again. “Had I stayed here last night—”
“His aim might have been better.” Adam’s voice hardens. “I think the sniper realized at the last second, she wasn’t you.”
“But he shot her anyway.” Realizing the bloody sheets are at my back, I scoot forward. “Another warning?”
“Maybe he wanted to let us know he was back.”
“Yeah, well, message received.” Bracing myself on his shoulder, I push myself to my feet. It’s difficult to take my gaze off the bullet hole. “I think I need to go back to Broomtown.”
Adam recoils as though I’ve slapped him. “What? What in the hell does Broomtown got to do with this?”
“Someone there got this contract. Mark didn’t know anyone outside of that town.”
“This guy is sharp. Trained. That means he’s been doing this for a long time. A guy like this couldn’t live in a small town. He’d need to stay under the radar which means getting lost in a big city.”
“But someone in Broomtown has to know something. I don’t believe for one second Mark did this on his own, and Ike wouldn’t have made the call himself. One of his hired guns would have made the arrangements.”
“Even if that’s the case, you think people are going to talk to you out of the kindness of their hearts? I have no authority in Broomtown to make them cooperate.”
I see his point. Without a badge to force mouths to open, I wouldn’t get too much out of the citizens of Broomtown unless… “What about the lawyer? The one who wanted to talk to me after Mark’s funeral?”
“If he knows someone is doing something illegal, he’s not going to volunteer the information, especially if he hasn’t reported it.”
I hear what he’s saying, but that doesn’t quell my determination. “Let’s just go to the hospital and make sure Francine’s okay first.”
He looks like he wants to argue but doesn’t. Instead, he wraps one arm around my shoulders and draws me close to his side as we walk outside.
The cold air hits me along with an eerie sense of awareness. He could be anywhere. Watching me again. Even close enough to touch. My head swivels as I search the area around us.
Sensing my distress, Adam’s arm tightens. “If he’s watching, Emily, he’s too far away for us to see him, and he’s not going to shoot now.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because he wants to control the scene. He didn’t plan this, our walking out together. He’s not rash. Planning is necessary for him. There are no sudden bursts of anger or recklessness.”
“You sound like you know him.”
“I know his type.” He opens the passenger door and helps me into the seat. “He doesn’t make mistakes easily, but eventually, he will.”
“How can you be so sure?” I fasten the seatbelt with my hands still shaking.
Adam brushes the hair away from my face. “Because they always do.”
“No one has really talked to Jeremy yet. I mean, other than the few words he had to say outside the church. He has to know something about all of this. Mark didn’t do much without telling him. These other shootings happened the same time Mark came to Juniper Springs. That can’t be a coincidence.”
With a sigh, Adam closes my door and walks around the front of the truck. He’s tense, ready to snap at any second. I feel his aggravation when he slides in next to me, but he starts the truck before speaking.
“Whatever it is, Emily, you need to leave this to the cops to resolve.”
“You’re not going to be able to find him without something more to go on, and whether you want to believe it or not, the answers aren’t here.”
“You have no way of knowing that. Ike or Mark could have hired someone outside of town to take care of the details to keep anything from being traced back to him.”
“And you have no way of knowing I’m not right.”
He shifts the truck into reverse and backs away from Francine’s house. Men wearing blue booties are still sifting through the grass outside my bedroom window, looking for evidence. One of them lifts his hand in acknowledgment, and Adam nods in response.
“Fine. We’ll go back to Broomtown.”
I didn’t expect him to yield so soon. It makes me suspicious. “I sense a but coming.”
“But I need a few days to get some things together.”
“Things? What things?”
“Making sure the station is covered, things like that.” Now he sounds irritated which only serves to raise my temper.
“You don’t have to go, Adam. I can go by myself. It’s not like I don’t know the way to Broomtown.”
His hands twist on the steering wheel. “You really want to go back to that town alone?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to, but I can. Like I said this morning, classes start in a week so I need to get there and get back. I don’t know how much time you need.”
Jaw clenching, he glances my way. “We’ll go Wednesday morning.”
“That’s the day after tomorrow. I thought you needed a few days.”
“I’ll make it work.”
My ire climbs. “Don’t sound like you’re doing me a favor.” “
“Can we just…” he breaks off and jerks his head toward the hospital that’s ahead on the left. “We can finish this after we check on Francine.”
“I can’t wait for that conversation.” Once he pulls into a parking space, I open the door and jump to the ground before he can help me out of the truck. Irritation speeds my steps toward the emergency entrance of the town’s only hospital.
Francine’s voice rings out above all others, and I’m so relieved to hear it. I follow the sound to the exam room where she’s lying atop the gurney, alr
eady wearing a blue and white hospital gown.
“Get me out of here,” she bellows the second she sees me.
Art holds up a finger. “I’ve already told you, Frannie, you’re not going anywhere. If the doctor wants to keep you for observation, then that’s what’s going to happen.”
“He didn’t say anything about keeping me.” She smacks his hand away.
“You’re doing better than I thought for someone who’s been shot.” Adam’s warm breath bathes the back of my neck when he speaks behind me.
She yanks the edge of the gown down a little further and glares at all of us. “I wasn’t shot; I was grazed.”
“You were passed out,” I point out with a frown. She looks so normal I have to remind myself a bullet tore its way across her skin.
“Well, it was a shock is all. I’m perfectly fine now. Nothing a few bandages won’t fix right up.” She tries to sit up, but Art presses two fingers against her forehead to keep her in position. “Dammit, Art, I’m not kidding here. We can’t just shut the diner down for the day.”
“It’s already been done.” He adjusts the pillow behind her and tucks the collar of her gown closer around her neck. “So you don’t worry about anything. I’ve got everything under control.”
“You couldn’t even keep Daddy’s tractor under control.”
“Excuse me?” A friendly, though strained, voice interrupts the chaos, and we all turn to see a tall, lanky doctor wearing blue scrubs holding the curtain open. “I need a few moments alone with the patient, if you all don’t mind.”
One by one we file out of the room, relief on all of our faces. The chairs lined up in the waiting room don’t look appealing, and I couldn’t sit still if I wanted to. Adam offers me coffee, but the caffeine is the last thing I need. So I pace. And worry.
Why is this guy torturing me instead of just pulling the trigger? He was paid to kill me so why prolong the job? Doesn’t he have other potential clients, or is this kill his only one?
“Miss Jacobs?” A petite nurse with smoky-gray eyes approaches me. Her bright blue scrub pants are dragging the ground a little. I imagine it’s difficult for her to find pants to fit her tiny frame. Then I realize how foolish it is to be thinking about someone’s clothing.
Heat stinging my cheeks, I nod.
“Francine would like to see you.”
I glance at Adam. He looks like he wants to join me, but I don’t ask. Instead, I make the short trek alone.
Chapter Seven
“Pull the curtain behind you.” Francine issues the order with a point as though I might not know where the material is.
I follow her command then stand at the foot of the exam bed, not knowing what to do with my hands. This is Francine. My friend, but I feel awkward around her now. Guilty is a better word. She wouldn’t be lying there if it wasn’t for me.
“Adam and I are going back to Broomtown to try to get some answers¸” I blurt out before she can say anything.
Her brow furrows. “That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard which is exactly why I called you in here. I figured you’d be trying to think of some way to help. Well, let me just tell you that ain’t it. The last thing you should be doing is walking right back into the lion’s den. There are very few people you can trust in that town, if any at all, and all you’re going to find there is trouble.” She shifts on the bed and winces, her hand dropping to her side.
Immediately contrite, I hurry to the side of the bed to stand close to her. “What can I do to help?”
“Tell me you’re not going back to Broomtown for one.”
“Francine.” I cover one of her hands with mine. Tears fill my eyes, and for a moment, I can’t speak. When I finally force the words past my lips, they come out shakily. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, honey, this ain’t your fault. I’ve told you that already, and even if I didn’t, you should know I don’t blame you. It’s this crackpot who’s after you, he’s the one to blame. None of us.”
“Is that really the only reason you called me in here?”
She glances to the left then the right as though scared someone could be standing on either side of us without our knowledge. “I was just going to ask you to get Gary’s wallet back to him. He left it at my house last night, and I put it on the coffee table so it should still be there. When he realized it, he called me this morning, and I was going to take it to the diner. I was leaving my bedroom when I saw that laser. So I ducked into your bedroom to take a look just like a cat chasing a damn dot. That’s when I got shot.”
“Did you see a car or truck? Was it the same one from the YWCA?”
“It all happened so fast. I think it was a truck. Might have been black, but I wouldn’t testify to it.” She pats my hand. “Just get Gary’s wallet back to him before Art sees it. The last thing I want is an earful from him about having sex instead of being vigilant.” She rolls her eyes. “I swear we need to find him a woman.”
I shift my stance and smile as relief filters through my veins. “Sex, huh? So…are you going to tell me about it or make me guess?”
“Neither one. I didn’t expect you to discuss your first time with Adam, did I?”
I grin back at her affronted face. “No, you didn’t.” I pause before adding, “But why didn’t he spend the night?”
“Early shift.” She picks a piece of lint off the sheet and flicks it to the floor. “I was actually going to his house tonight, but I guess that’s out of the question.”
“Well, he was at your house with the paramedics and everyone else this morning. Maybe he got it then.”
“Just check for me. He’s a little embarrassed that he left it behind since it fell out of his pocket when we were slinging clothes.”
“I was kidding when I asked for details.” My smile envelops my entire body. I can’t begin to tell Francine how happy I am that she’s okay.
A nurse tapped lightly on the wall beside the curtain before pulling it back gently. “Excuse me. I just need to check the bandage to make sure the bleeding has stopped then we should be able to get you out of here.”
“I thought the doctor wanted to keep her for observation.” I give Francine a suspicious look. Though I couldn’t be sure, it’s entirely possible she managed to convince the doctor she’d have plenty of help at home if she needed it.
“Nope. Since I didn’t hit my head when I passed out and I only have twelve stitches, I’m good to go.” Francine beams at me like she’s just been paroled.
I wait until the nurse leaves to retrieve the discharge instructions then I round on my friend. “Are you kidding me? You were shot!”
“Grazed. The bullet didn’t enter my body which means there’s no need for observation. I can watch it at home. If it starts to ooze or what have you, I’ll give Dr. Watkins a call. He’s been my family doc for years.”
I know I’m not going to convince her otherwise so I let the matter drop. Before I can begin another conversation, Art slings the curtain back and stomps over to the side of the bed.
“So I see you’ve convinced them to let you go home.” His voice is rumbling like thunder, and he’s glaring so much his eyebrows are practically meeting.
“I’m not a child, Art. I can take care of myself.”
“You passed out.”
“It was the shock is all. It just scared the piss out of me. I’ve never been shot before so I would think losing consciousness is natural.” Francine tugs the collar of the flimsy gown up higher and glares right back. “And before you continue, let me remind you that you got shot when you and Daddy went hunting, and you didn’t have to spend the night in the hospital. In case your memory is conveniently faulty, it’s because you were just grazed!”
Red seeps into his cheeks. “That was different.”
“Why? Because I’m a woman?”
“No, because I didn’t faint.”
I start to back out of the room with careful, slow steps, but I can’t make my getaway before Art whirls around to dire
ct his anger at me.
“Adam mentioned you want to go back to Broomtown to look for some answers.”
Not him too! “There might be someone there willing to talk to us.”
“I think that’s a great idea.”
Francine gasps. “Have you lost your mind? What part of her going back to that old town is a great idea? It’s where she was almost killed.”
“And if she was still there, you wouldn’t have been almost killed here!”
There it was. The blame I’ve been expecting. I can’t fault Art for it because the guilt is still eating at me. So I pull in a deep breath and face his anger. “You’re probably right, and I’m sorry.”
“That don’t take back the bullet, does it? My sister could have been killed because of you, and you don’t seem to get it. She’s been through enough, and everyone in this town is going to be better off, safer even, if you leave. As harsh as that sounds, I’m just saying what needs to be said. No one here deserves to have to keep looking over their shoulders because you’re too selfish to leave. I know you’ve got a thing with Adam, and that’s all well and good, but you can screw him anywhere.”
“Arthur Matthew, that is enough!” Francine pushes herself up until she’s almost even with her brother’s face. “This isn’t Emily’s fault.”
“No? Then whose is it? Because the way I see it, if she wasn’t here, you would never have been shot. And I won’t apologize for wanting to keep you safe, Frannie.” He turns his back on me just as Adam walks into the room, and he doesn’t look any happier than Art.
“Art, maybe you and I should take a walk. Go get some air.” Adam makes the suggestion in a deadly quiet tone of voice, telling us all he’s heard every word. And he didn’t like any of them.
Art holds up one finger which he then points at me. “I know you’ve had a rough life, Emily, and I honestly care about you. But if there’s ever going to be a choice between you and my sister, it will always be my Frannie. You understand what I’m saying?”
“Of course.” Who wouldn’t chose their family over someone they’ve barely known two months?
Being Lovers Page 6