Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“The hell I’m not,” Franco said, his tone going full sheriff again. “Nobody else is arresting your grandma but me.”
For reasons I didn’t want to unpack, that actually comforted me.
Aiden rubbed a hand over his jaw, half-exasperated, half-amused. “You’ll be lucky if Rodinsky doesn’t strap you to that bed.”
“He’ll try,” Franco muttered, “but I’ve got a good right hook.”
McCracken looked torn between admiration and concern. “I’ll make sure he stays put for at least a day,” he said, but it sounded like even he didn’t believe it.
Aiden shifted his stance, professional focus sliding back into place. “What cases were you working when this happened?”
“Same as always.” Franco’s eyes half-closed. “Couple of domestic violence calls, the poachers up near Blarney Pass, and of course, the damn silver boxes and that dynamite mess.”
The room went quiet except for the faint rhythmic beeping of the monitor by the bed. Rain rattled the window, and the beeping of the machines kept time.
Finally, Franco sighed. “I don’t know what might’ve gotten me shot. My cases aren’t that dangerous right now.”
“Maybe you got too close without realizing it,” Aiden said. “If someone’s trying to keep the silver boxes buried, they might think the sheriff of Silverville was connecting dots too fast.”
Franco’s gaze slid toward him, thoughtful. “Those boxes aren’t worth that much, and nobody believes the map leads to gold.”
“I agree, so you need to think about enemies you might’ve made throughout the years,” Aiden said slowly. “You don’t take rifle fire over a petty theft.”
A chill ran down my spine.
McCracken’s phone buzzed, and he read the screen. “No reports yet of anyone coming in for treatment. Not in the valley or neighboring counties.”
Aiden stepped closer to the bed, his expression unreadable. “What about your personal life?”
“It’s fantastic,” Franco said. “No family drama from any direction. No friends suddenly mad at me. I’m good on the personal front.”
Aiden placed a hand on the bed’s guardrail. “Do you remember any sounds before the shots? Vehicles? Voices?”
Franco shook his head slowly. “No. Just the rain. Then the crack of the first shot. The windshield shattered, and glass went everywhere. I ducked, fired back blind. Couldn’t even see muzzle flash through the rain until the second burst.”
“Second burst?” Aiden repeated.
“Yeah,” Franco said. “Came from a lower angle. Shooter was moving downhill.” He exhaled. “Knew how to keep the high ground blocked. Either he had experience or knew the area well.”
Aiden and I exchanged a look that was quiet, certain, and unsettling. Whoever had shot the sheriff wasn’t just some angry drunk or petty criminal.
They were at least decently trained.
And they were still out there.
Chapter 17
Deputy McCracken called first thing in the morning to let me know they weren’t going to serve the arrest warrant on Nana until that afternoon.
So I went into the office dressed for war. My killer red suit, the one with the matching jacket and pencil skirt, meant business. I paired it with a simple white shell and black heels. I was ready.
Sometimes a woman had to dress for battle.
When I walked into the office, Oliver was already on the phone, gesturing like whatever conversation he was having had gone three rounds too long. I set a latte on his desk, gave him a quick nod, and kept moving.
He gave me a grateful thumbs-up without missing a word to whoever was on the other end of the line.
I stepped inside Clark’s open doorway. He looked up from a stack of files, his easy expression in place. No matter what time I arrived, he always managed to beat me to work. “Hey.” I held out his drink.
“Hi,” he replied, taking it from me.
“I meant to talk to you yesterday.” I dropped into the chair across from his desk. “Brooke Walton is also dating Brad Backleboff over in Silverville and has been for a while.”
Clark’s eyebrows lifted. “Yeah, I caught that last night. I also read it in the paper, but you and I hadn’t had time to talk about it.”
Relief loosened the tight spot between my shoulders. “Oh, good. I thought maybe I screwed up by not getting ahold of you.”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t know who Brooke was dating, but she wouldn’t go exclusive.”
I tilted my head. “Are you still going to see her?”
“Probably not.”
“Good. I have several cousins—”
Clark laughed and held up a hand. “No, thank you.”
I crossed my arms. “Come on, Clark. They’re not all like me. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” he said with that grin that made him look even younger than his twenty-eight or so years. “But I figure I’m already too tangled up with your family. If I dated a cousin and it didn’t work out, Thanksgiving would be awkward.”
How sweet. “I hope this thing with Brooke didn’t hurt you.”
“It didn’t hurt me,” he said easily. “Really, I’m fine.”
I nodded, satisfied. “Good.”