Lawman With A Cause. Delores Fossen
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“No matter what happens, I want you to stay put,” Egan warned her a split second before he eased the truck out from the trail and back onto the road. “And keep an eye out in case our friend returns to shoot at us again.”
Jordan was already doing that, but she was also making glances at the person who was still lying on the road. Egan pulled closer, but it was still hard to tell much because he or she was wrapped in a blanket. Of course, the cover could be concealing a weapon.
Had Drew or his brother managed to send would-be killers after them? If so, this could be a hired gun. That was probably why Egan hadn’t wanted her out of the truck. But obviously he wasn’t going to take that same precaution himself.
He put on his emergency flashers, the red lights knifing through the darkness, and he pulled to a stop directly next to the person. Jordan moved closer to him so she could provide some backup if this turned into a shootout, but there wasn’t much she could do to keep him out of the line of fire.
Egan stepped out.
He immediately maneuvered himself so that he was in front of Jordan, protecting her. She knew it wasn’t personal, though. Egan was a lawman through and through, and he would now see her as part of the job.
Even if it wasn’t a job that he especially wanted.
Jordan moved again, too, so that she could keep watch around them and still see from over his shoulder. With his gun ready, Egan walked closer. There was still no movement, so he used the toe of his boot to nudge the person.
“Is it a dummy?” Jordan asked.
Egan nudged it again and shook his head. “There’s blood.”
Sweet heaven. That gave Jordan another jolt of adrenaline—along with a really bad thought. Both Egan and she had fired shots into the truck. And they’d done that before the person had been dumped on the road.
Had she shot him or her?
Or had Egan done it?
Jordan forced herself to remember that this could have been the shooter who’d been trying to kill them. He or she might have deserved to die. But like Shanna, the person could have been innocent in all of this, too.
Her lungs started to ache, and that was when she realized she was holding her breath. Her chest muscles were too tight. As if they were squeezing the life out of her. Jordan refused to give in to the memories and the panic. None of that would help Egan right now.
She heard Egan gut out some profanity under his breath as he reached for the blanket. He didn’t yank it but rather gave it a gentle tug, touching it only with his fingertips.
The way a cop would touch evidence he didn’t want contaminated.
And Jordan soon realized why Egan had done that. The moment he pulled back the blanket, she saw the face of the person who was wrapped inside it.
It was a woman.
And she was dead.
Egan couldn’t push away the sickening feeling of dread. A woman was dead. And he might have been the one to kill her.
“There was no ID on the body,” Egan heard Court say from the other end of the line. “We’ll try to match her prints so we can figure out who she is.”
His brother was at the crime scene with the medical examiner and the CSI team so Court would make sure that everything was done as fast as it could be. Egan had wanted to be there, too, but he also had to make sure Jordan got to the hospital.
And that she was safe.
Ironic, since just an hour ago he hadn’t believed she was truly in danger. Well, he sure as heck believed it now. The person in the truck had wanted to kill her. He was certain about that. But the next steps were for Egan to figure out who this dead Jane Doe was and how she fit into what had happened.
Obviously, Jordan wanted to hear all about that, as well. Even though the doctor was stitching up her shoulder, she was leaning closer to Egan. No doubt trying to hear Court’s every word. When he finished the call, Egan would give her the condensed version, but first he wanted to try to process it himself.
“Cause of death?” Egan asked Court.
“Two gunshot wounds to the head. No stippling.”
Hell.
Stippling happened when particles of gunpowder embedded into the skin. Since it wasn’t on the victim, Egan knew she probably hadn’t been shot at point-blank range. That meant, she might have still been alive while she was in the truck. Might.
Egan dreaded this next question, but he had to know. “Did the victim have any organs missing?”
Court blurted out a single word of bad profanity. “No. Not that I can see. Why would you think that?”
“I’ll fill you in when you’re back here.” No way did Egan want to get into this over the phone, but it was a relief that the woman seemed to be intact. “Were there exit wounds on the body?” Egan asked.
“No. The bullets are still in her.”
As grisly as that sounded, that was actually a good thing. “I want ballistics done ASAP,” Egan reminded his brother.
Though a reminder really wasn’t necessary. Court was already well aware that was one answer they had to have right away.
“I’ll get it,” Court assured him. “You do know, though, that even if the shot came from your gun, or Jordan’s, this was an accident? From everything you told me, both of you were aiming at the driver, who was shooting at you. You didn’t even know there was a passenger in the vehicle.”
Yeah, he knew that in his head. But his gut was having a lot of trouble with it. If the woman had died from his bullet, then the bottom line was that he’d been the one to kill her.
“Also, I’ve made some calls about the truck the gunman was driving,” Egan continued a moment later. “It had to be custom since the windshield was bullet resistant and the front end had been reinforced. We might get lucky and find out who ordered a vehicle like that.”
“I can help you with that when I get back to the office,” Court answered. “Might not be for a while, though, since we want to process Jordan’s vehicle, too. How is she, by the way?” Court asked after a pause.
She had a lot less blood on her than when Egan had first seen her, but she had that stark look in her eyes. The one that told him she was dealing with a serious adrenaline crash and was maybe in shock.
“Jordan’s, well, Jordan,” Egan settled for saying. Stubborn and driven. Not necessarily a good combination.
“She really should be in the hospital,” Dr. Lucy Madison