it’s about padding your getaway fund.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. You know what? Let’s not talk about this. What do you need?”
“Excuse me?”
“What can your primary witness do to help you solve this case?”
“You’re injured. I can conduct an interview tomorrow.”
She continued anyway. “He was about six feet tall, with thin lips and bushy eyebrows. Oh, and a bump on his nose, here.” She reached out to illustrate on Nate’s nose, but he jerked away, like she was contagious.
“Wow, okay.” She swallowed the hurt burning her throat and pointed to her own nose. “A bump right here. He’s got dark brown eyes and he smelled of something... I can’t put my finger on it, something pungent.”
“What did he say to you?” Nate pulled a small notebook out of his jacket pocket.
“I did most of the talking. Especially after I figured out who he was. I did my best flaky girl impression, and told him I ran away from the cabin because of the blood, then tripped and fell down a mountain.”
“You think he bought it?”
“He seemed to. I’m not dead.” The inappropriate comment awkwardly slipped out.
Nate’s fingers froze as he gripped the pen.
“Sorry, that was morbid,” she said.
“Is there anything else you can tell me about him?”
“No, sorry.”
He glanced up. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
In that moment she felt caught by something in his green eyes, something intense and sad. She struggled to form words.
“I... You... Thanks,” she uttered.
She didn’t like this feeling, a feeling of being derailed, yanked off course. It seemed to happen only when Chief Walsh was looking straight at her.
The door swung open. “How’s the patient?” Dr. Spencer asked, approaching her.
His presence ripped Cassie out of the intense moment with the chief. She smiled at the doctor and said, “Pretty good, considering.”
“Attitude is everything,” the cheerful doctor said. “Let’s stitch you up and send you home.”
Nate stood. “I’ll get her brother.”
“Wait,” she said. “Would you mind staying?” For some reason she didn’t feel overly judged by Nate, whereas every word that came out of Aiden’s mouth felt like a criticism.
“Are you sure?” Nate said.
“Yes, but you probably have to get back.”
“I’ve got a few minutes.” Nate offered to hold her hand for support.
She accepted the gesture, appreciating the warmth. As she focused on a spot across the room, the doctor raised the sleeve of her hospital gown and explained how he was numbing her arm in preparation for sutures.
A few minutes later she felt a tugging sensation, but no pain.
“Not so bad, right?” Dr. Spencer said.
She glanced at him. “That’s it?”
“Only needed ten stitches. A little more paperwork and you’re good to go.” He smiled.
The sound of gunfire echoed through the door.
Nate instinctively withdrew his firearm.
“Stay here,” he said to Spence.
As Nate tried to pull away from Cassie, she clung tighter to his hand. Her face had drained of color.
“You’re okay, Cassie, but I need to get out there and make sure everyone else is, too.”
With a reluctant nod, she let him go, and he rushed to investigate.
“Be careful,” she said.
He nodded, slid the door open and peered into the main area. It looked empty, as if staff had suddenly abandoned the urgent care. He left Cassie’s examining room and shut the door.
Taking a few steps toward a computer station, he hesitated. Whimpering echoed from below. He knelt and peeked beneath a desk. Two staff members, young women in their twenties, were huddled together, fear coloring their eyes.
“Where did the shot come from?” he whispered.
One of the women pointed toward the reception area.
Just then the reception door flew open. Aiden and a middle-aged woman stepped into the examining area with their hands raised. Someone was obviously behind them. Nate took cover beside the desk to better assess what he was dealing with. If he exposed himself now he could lose his weapon in exchange for sparing someone’s life. Without a weapon he had no control of the situation.
“She needs help now!” a male voice demanded. “Where’s the doctor?”
“I—I don’t know,” the woman beside Aiden said.
“How can you not know?”
“Hey, can’t we talk about this?” Aiden argued.
“Get down, facedown on the ground, and put your hands behind your head!”
Aiden must have hesitated, because another shot rang out and the two women beneath the desk shrieked.
“Okay, okay.” Aiden dropped to the floor and made eye contact with Nate.
The assailant placed his boot on Aiden’s back. “Now stay there. And you, get in a room!”
The front-end receptionist who’d entered with Aiden did as ordered.
If the guy would just move a few inches to the right Nate could get him from behind, the goal being to disarm him without the gun going off again.
“Where’s the doctor? The nurses? I heard them scream.”
The women under the desk eyed Nate. He shook his head, warning them off, not wanting to put more innocents in the line of fire.
The shooter turned. Nate saw the man’s reflection in an examining room window: the shooter was holding on to a young, barely conscious woman.
“Nurses, get out here!”
Nate got ready to take his shot.
A door slid open. “I’m Dr. Spencer.”
Nate
