In A Killer's Sights. Sandra Robbins

In A Killer's Sights - Sandra Robbins


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the victim. Sheriff Ben Whitman, Dean’s friend since they’d met in middle school years ago, stood beside his police car talking to one of his deputies.

      Even from this distance it was easy to see Ben’s Cherokee heritage in his high cheekbones, coarse black hair and reddish skin tone. They’d played football together, double-dated and shared confidences since they were kids. But it was what Ben had done for him in the past five years that meant the most. He had been Dean’s sponsor when he’d entered an alcohol rehabilitation program, and Ben was the main reason he’d been successful in overcoming his addiction.

      When Ben spotted Dean, he hurried over. “Did you see where he went?”

      Dean shook his head. “He disappeared as soon as he left the parking lot. He must know these woods well to get away so quickly.” He glanced at the gurney where the woman lay, with EMT Joe Collins and another man in scrubs bent over her, administering aid.

      Only her feet were visible. It was impossible to tell how badly she might be hurt. “Is she dead?”

      “No,” Ben said. “She’s unconscious, though. The paramedics are about ready to transport her.”

      Dean craned his neck to get a better look at the woman, but still couldn’t see her face. “How badly is she hurt?” he asked.

      Ben tugged at the brim of his hat to straighten it. “Not nearly as bad as we thought at first. Emmett and your guests said they saw a man with a gun aimed right at her head when he fired. The only thing that saved her life was a big metal hair clip she had on. The bullet apparently struck it and bounced off. Grazed her head when it ricocheted and the wound bled quite a bit, but she’s going to be fine.”

      “I guess God was watching out for her today,” Dean said. “When I rode up and saw the guy about to shoot her, I thought it was a robbery gone bad. Was it?”

      “That was my first thought, but I won’t know until I can talk with her. The impact of the bullet knocked her out, and she hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”

      “Have you ever seen her around before?”

      Ben shook his head. “Probably a tourist. She’s in a rental car. We found a wallet in her jeans pocket and her driver’s license is from New York. I’m guessing she may have encountered her attacker on the trail or in the parking lot and was trying to get away from him when you arrived.”

      Dean nodded. “That makes sense. Maybe she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

      “That’s what I’m thinking,” Ben said before he stared off into the woods. “I’m going to call in some guys to help us search this area on the chance that we might find something that points to our shooter. Want to come along?”

      Dean nodded again. “I’ll be glad to. I’ll take my guests to the ranch and come on back.”

      “Good. There’s not a guide around that knows these mountains like you do,” his friend stated. “I sure am glad you came back home to live. Now, if you’d give up that dude ranch and come work for me, I’d be perfectly happy.”

      Dean frowned at that. “My days of being a police officer are over. I loved it until I...” He paused and stared down at the wedding ring he’d never been able to take off. “Well, you know some of what happened. It ruined my life for a time.”

      “But you overcame everything.”

      Dean sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “Not everything, buddy. There are some people I never will get the chance to make it up to. People who I’ve had to learn to live without. One especially.”

      Ben clamped his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You know I’ve always been glad to listen to you about what happened, but I know there’s a lot you’ve never told me. When you’re ready, I’m willing to hear.”

      Dean smiled briefly. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.” Then he took a deep breath. “Now I’d better get these guests home so I can come help you with the search.”

      “See you later,” Ben said before he turned and walked to his cruiser.

      Dean started to head to where Emmett stood, but noticed the EMTs were about to load the woman in the ambulance and detoured to check on her. He walked over and stopped behind Joe. “How’s she doing?” he asked.

      The paramedic glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “Still passed out, but she’s going to be fine. If that bullet had been a half inch to the left of that hair clip, we’d be taking her body to the county coroner’s office instead of the hospital.”

      “That’s what Ben said. And he said she’s from New York.”

      Joe nodded. “Yeah. She’s a long way from home. I wonder what she’s doing in the Smokies all alone.”

      Dean frowned. “Maybe she isn’t alone. Did Ben find anything that would tell where she’s staying while she’s here? Maybe a key card from a hotel or a receipt from a cabin rental company?”

      “Not that I know of.”

      Dean glanced to the far side of the parking lot. Emmett and two of his employees seemed to have everything under control with the horses and guests, but it would be dinnertime soon. They needed to get back to the ranch for the cookout that was planned for the evening. “Well, I’d better get these folks back to my ranch, and you need to get her to the hospital. I hope everything turns out well for her.” He stepped around Joe and was about to leave when he glanced down and saw the woman’s face for the first time.

      His eyes opened wide, and a strangled cry came from his throat as a shock like an electrical current raced through his body. His legs wobbled, and he staggered and would have fallen if Joe hadn’t grabbed his arm and steadied him.

      “Dean! Are you okay?”

      He could hear Joe’s voice, but couldn’t respond. The words Dean tried to say got tangled in his throat, and a strange gurgling emerged. He stared down at the woman, his heart pounding as if he’d just run a marathon.

      No! It can’t be.

      Joe clasped his arm more tightly and shook him. “Dean! Dean! I asked if you’re all right.”

      He bent over and propped his hands on his knees, gulping great breaths of air in an effort to calm his racing pulse. “No, I’m not,” he rasped.

      With a strangled cry, he dropped to his knees and touched the bandage that covered the wound on her head. Just a few inches and she’d be dead. And he’d run right past her when he’d rushed into the woods. Why hadn’t he stopped to see if she needed help?

      She looked so pale. Blood matted her blond hair, which he gently smoothed back from her eyes. “Gwen,” he crooned. “Can you hear me? It’s Dean.”

      Her left hand rested on the sheet that covered her body. He grasped it and rubbed his thumb down her ring finger. He could still feel the indentation at the base where she’d once worn a ring, but it wasn’t there now.

      Ben must have seen his reaction, because he dropped down beside him. “Dean, do you know this woman?”

      Guilt and sorrow welled up and flooded his soul like a tidal wave. Dean closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Ben, it’s Gwen. It’s my wife.”

      Ben gasped and a shocked look covered his face. “I saw on her driver’s license that her name was Gwen Anderson, but I didn’t think about this being your ex-wife. You know I was in the army when the two of you married, and I never met her. In fact, I don’t think you ever showed me a picture of her.” He stared at Gwen for a moment and exhaled. “So she took back her maiden name?”

      Dean swallowed and squeezed her hand tighter. “Yeah. I guess she didn’t want anything to remind her of me.”

      Ben


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