Fourteen
Dan flipped his notepad closed and tucked it and a pen back into the front pocket of his uniform. “Sounds like someone was hunting deer out of season.”
Megan’s mouth dropped open and heat flooded her cheeks. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Wind moved through the forest, rustling the leaves, but Dan’s hair didn’t flutter. The strands were loaded down with so much product, it appeared painted in place.
The chief deputy, along with Sheriff Franklin, arrived shortly after responding deputies. Two hours had gone by since the shooting, but a mixture of lawmen—troopers and deputies—still worked the scene around them.
“He was aiming for Megan,” Luke growled. “Not the deer. And he used a laser scope. It’s hard to justify that as a mistake.”
“You’d be surprised. Last year, a poacher nearly took out Old Man McGregor’s dog using a laser scope.” Dan smirked, pulling his e-cigarette out of his pocket. “If someone wanted to kill you, this seems like a hard way to do it. How did the shooter know y’all were out here?”
“Spyware can be installed remotely on a phone to track someone.”
Luke and Megan had turned off their cells. An analyst was on his way to the ranch to check the devices for any spying software.
“If you find it, then we can reevaluate.” Dan took a drag of his e-cigarette and blew out cherry-scented smoke. “In my experience, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck.”
Megan gritted her teeth together, the ache in her jaw spreading into her scalp. She didn’t know if the chief deputy was merely negligent or purposefully muddying the waters, but either way, he was dangerous.
Sheriff Franklin came out of the woods and approached. Judging from his reddened eyes and chapped upper lip, the sheriff was fighting off a nasty cold. Megan reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a packet of aspirin. She’d been carrying them around since her fall down the stairs.
“Sheriff?” She extended her hand, offering the medication.
He smiled, causing his jowls to stretch, and took the packet. “Thanks. Woke up this morning feeling like I’d been hit by a dump truck.”
Sheriff Franklin sniffed and turned to Dan. “I think we’re almost done here. Can you coordinate the deputies and start putting them back on patrol?”
“Sure thing.” Dan ambled off, smoke trailing behind him, and greeted a deputy standing near the crime-scene tape with a clap on the back. The two men talked for a moment before laughing.
“Dan thinks this was someone hunting out of season,” Luke said.
“On its own, I might agree, but with everything else that’s been going on…something about this ain’t sitting right.” The sheriff pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and swiped it under his nose. His expression grew dark. “I don’t like that the perpetrator shot at you, Luke, when you were in pursuit.”
Megan flinched. The moments between hearing the rifle shots and Luke reappearing in the clearing had been the longest and worst of her life. Her instincts had been to go after him, to help, but logic kept her feet in place. Sneaking through the forest could’ve put them both in more danger. Instead, she’d closed her eyes and prayed.
“Chad Dickerson drives a black F-150,” Luke pointed out.
“So does half the county.” Sheriff Franklin tucked his handkerchief back in the pocket of his uniform. “Still, I don’t like this cloud hanging over the family. Nor do I like anyone taking potshots at lawmen in my county. I’m gonna talk to Heath myself, convince them to come in for an interview. In the meantime, y’all keep me informed of anything you uncover.”
He tipped his hat to Megan and patted Luke on the back before heading down the trail toward the road.
Megan sighed. “It’s a shame Sheriff Franklin’s retiring. There’s no telling what will happen once Dan is in charge.”
Luke’s jaw tightened. “One problem at a time, Megs.”
“Hey, Greg’s at your house and set up to check your phones.” Weston approached and handed his keys to Luke. “Here, take my truck. I’ll catch a ride with one of the troopers once the forensics team is done to pick it up.”
They took the trail through the woods to the road where the vehicles were parked, each lost in their own thoughts. Megan wanted to focus on the case, but the echo of the gunshot kept reverberating in her head. She reached for Luke’s hand, interlacing her fingers with his. He pulled her closer to his side and squeezed her hand gently.
When they located Weston’s truck, Luke opened the passenger-side door for her. Megan’s heart sprinted as her gaze drifted to his lips. It wasn’t logical—she would end up brokenhearted—but she couldn’t deny her feelings. They’d almost kissed down by the creek before the attack. By the grace of God, they’d survived the shooting, and Megan wasn’t going to waste the blessing.
She rose up on her tiptoes and brushed her mouth against Luke’s. A simple kiss, gentle and light, but electricity jolted straight through her. When she pulled back, he looked stunned.
“What was that for?”
“For saving my life.” She lightly smacked his chest with the back of her hand. It was like hitting a boulder. “And that’s for scaring me half to death. You aren’t bulletproof, you know.”
He chuckled, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “I’ll try to remember that next time.”
“See that you do.”
He cupped her face, sending a wave of heat through her body. His breath wafted over her lips moments before his mouth closed over hers. She melted against him, losing herself in the sensation of the moment, and everything else drifted away. All that remained was the tender way he touched her, the rapid beat of her heart, the swell of long-buried emotions breaking free.
When the kiss ended, they were both breathless.
“Come on,” Luke said, brushing his thumb gently across her lower lip. “Let’s get home. The analyst is waiting
