surely didn’t want people tattling on her, although considering how many people had probably heard about the morning’s events, Bree suspected Mom already knew. Small towns were like that.
“What else can I tell you?” She directed her question to Chief Washburn.
“A description of the gunmen.”
She described what they looked like, trying to recall details from when she viewed them through the binoculars.
“One of the men said ‘he’s gonna want proof,’” Bree said.
“You were so close that you could hear what they were saying?” Uncle Chuck’s voice pitched.
“Uncle Chuck, I’ve been through a traumatic event. It’s just now hitting me how dangerous it was and you’re not helping.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m sorry.”
But it was natural for him to worry. He was protective of the McBride clan.
“Let’s all take a breath,” Chief Washburn said. “Breanna’s okay, but we have two gunmen on the loose and we need to involve as many law enforcement personnel as possible to track them down so no one else gets hurt.”
“They had accents,” Bree said.
“Foreign or...?” Chief Washburn asked.
“Midwest, Chicago. You know that nasal A sound?”
“Okay, that’s good.” The chief wrote something in his notepad. “As I understand it, there was no ID on the victim?”
“That’s right.”
“Did he tell you his name?” Chief Washburn asked.
“He doesn’t seem to remember it.”
“Convenient,” Uncle Chuck muttered.
“He’s got a nasty head wound,” she said defensively.
The E.R. doors opened to the outside and she spotted a familiar group of people: the SAR K9 team, along with Bree’s brother, Aiden, and their mom. So much for Bree calmly breaking the news to Mom about today’s events. Bree’s best friend, Billie, and her fiancé, Quinn, were also with the group.
Aiden marched up to Bree, who put out her hand in a stop gesture. “I’m fine, but I need another minute to give my statement.”
She didn’t miss Mom’s worried frown, or the angry twist of Aiden’s mouth. He’d better not be angry with her or she’d let him have it. Bree had been holding it in these past few hours, trying to remain calm and levelheaded for Blue Eyes. It wouldn’t take much for her to lose her cool, especially with family who she knew loved her no matter how cranky she got.
Bree finished describing the two men. Chief Washburn asked, “About the gunshot victim, any idea who he is or why he was assaulted?”
“No, sir. He didn’t say much, although he said a name, Emily, and that he’d keep her safe.”
The chief jotted something down. “Did he have a backpack?”
“No, sir. Maddie the EMT made a comment about his chest and torso looking red, too, like he’d been beaten up.”
“And he said nothing that would give us a clue what he was doing out on the trail?”
“No, sorry.”
“It seemed like he’s bonded with you,” Chief Washburn said.
Mom and Aiden were within earshot, but she didn’t care. “Yes, sir, I believe he has.”
“He trusts you?” Chief Washburn said.
“He’s scared. He can’t remember anything, even his name, and he’s in a strange hospital with multiple injuries. He needs to trust someone.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Chief Washburn said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Even though this could be a dangerous man?”
“We don’t know that.”
“Someone was shooting at him,” Uncle Chuck interjected.
“I know,” she said, glancing at him, “I was there, remember?”
Bree wasn’t usually a smarty-pants, but she was tired of people passing judgment on her. They’d passed judgment on her relationship with Thomas, which is one of the reasons she’d stayed silent about the emotional abuse for so long.
A few people had also given her a hard time about no longer doing hair when she’d moved back to town, instead choosing to be a groundskeeper, working for her brother who managed Echo Mountain Resort. Everyone seemed to have an opinion about Bree’s life. Some days she wished they’d all spend their energy worrying about themselves.
“I can’t make any sense out of your behavior today,” Chuck said.
“Why don’t you go check on Margaret?” Chief Washburn suggested to Uncle Chuck.
Chuck had obviously lost objectivity in regards to this situation because of how much he cared about Bree’s mom. It was the worst kept secret in town.
Chief Washburn closed his notebook. “I’m going to assign an officer to watch over the victim. I’m sure your family is going to encourage you to detach from this situation.”
“I can’t,” she said.
“Because?”
“I feel a connection to him.”
Chief Washburn studied her and waited for more.
“I know what it’s like to feel lost and vulnerable,” she said, “to feel so scared and there’s no one to help you. I’ve been there.”
“Well, truth is your connection to this man could be my best lead, but I won’t be responsible for stirring up trouble between you and your family. If you stick close to him and discover anything that might help with my investigation, please call me.” The chief handed her a business card with his office and cell numbers.
“Of course.”
He hesitated before standing. “Breanna, you are a remarkably brave woman.”
“Thank you, sir.”
She glanced past him at the group of family and friends in the waiting area. They probably wouldn’t call her brave or applaud her decision to help the stranger.
Bree had survived a violent event, yet had kept it together long enough to give her statement to police. She needed time alone to regroup, a few minutes to let the reality of her situation wash over her—but in private so she wouldn’t get emotional in front of her family.
“Hey, Chief, I need to use the washroom. Would you
