Hostage At Hawk's Landing. Rita Herron

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Hostage At Hawk's Landing - Rita Herron


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detective heaved a breath. “I’m looking into that, but what I don’t need is two civilians interfering.” He gestured to Dex. “Your friend was almost shot last night, and now you come here and are shot at again. This is dangerous, Dex. Take Ms. Gentry home and keep her out of this so she’ll be safe.”

      Melissa curled her fingers into her palms and dug her nails into them, a trick she’d learned to control her reaction in confrontational situations. “I asked to come with him,” she said firmly. “Now why don’t you try to find out who shot at us?”

      The detective’s brows shot up. “I plan to do that, Ms. Gentry. But it would make my job easier if I’m not distracted by worrying about the two of you.”

      Melissa started to retaliate with a retort, but Dex took her arm. “He’s right, Melissa. Why don’t you wait in the car?”

      Melissa bit her tongue. She didn’t like taking orders from either man.

      She’d been taking care of herself all her life. She couldn’t stop now.

      * * *

      DEX COULD HANDLE a reprimand, but not in front of someone else, especially a woman he cared about.

      Cared about?

      Why had he thought that? He’d known Melissa a long time ago, but there was nothing between them now. Except his protective instincts kicked in full force when she was around. And he sure as hell didn’t want to be shut out of this investigation.

      He and Melissa both wanted answers. Answers that he would find.

      He brushed her back with his hand. “Melissa, please...?”

      For a brief second she looked as if she was going to argue, but then she glanced back at Lamar, and nodded. He clenched his jaw as he watched her climb into his SUV.

      Lamar was texting on his phone when Dex turned back to him.

      “Tell me exactly what happened?” Lamar asked.

      “Like I said on the phone, someone was inside when we arrived.” He gestured toward the parking lot. “I spotted a black sedan in the back.”

      “Any other vehicles around?”

      Dex shook his head. “No. The place was dark inside, except for a flashlight beam. That’s how I knew someone was in there.”

      Lamar studied him. “Then what?”

      “I looked in the window to see who it was, but then someone started shooting.” He walked over to the window and pointed out the broken glass. “Melissa and I ducked to avoid being hit, then I saw movement inside.”

      “Was there one person or two?” Lamar asked.

      Dex chewed the inside of his cheek. “One. At least I didn’t see anyone else.”

      “How about the car? Anyone inside it when you got here?”

      Dex shook his head again. “No. It was empty.”

      Lamar scribbled something in his pocket notepad. “Did you see what the shooter looked like?”

      “Afraid not. Like I said, it was dark inside. And he ran out the back.”

      “License plate on the car?”

      “No.” Dex felt like a failure as an investigator. Dammit, he wished he could offer more concrete information. But he’d been too busy dodging bullets and worrying about protecting Melissa to chase the bastard.

      Lamar examined the window and peered through the broken glass. He dug a bullet casing from the window edge. “You said he shot at you. Did you fire back?”

      Dex didn’t want to answer, but he had to. Lamar’s people would find two different types of bullets when they searched inside.

      “Dex?”

      “Yeah.” He removed his weapon from the back of his jeans and held it out to Lamar. “I fired twice. You can check.”

      Lamar’s gaze met his. “Did you hit him?”

      “I don’t think so. I was just trying to warn him off.”

      Lamar scoffed. “You know I could haul you in.”

      “But you aren’t going to,” Dex said. “Because technically I fired in self-defense. And you, my friend, don’t want to waste time when it’ll go nowhere.”

      Besides, he hadn’t really crossed the line.

      He would, though, if necessary, to find out the truth about Smith and what was going on with these shelters.

      * * *

      MELISSA WATCHED THE interchange between Dex and Detective Lamar, her curiosity piqued as to how the two of them had met and become friends.

      Her phone buzzed, and she checked the number, expecting it to be her coworker April. Instead the name of the director at another shelter appeared. Candace Fuller from Retreat. She’d once worked closely with Candace and they still had coffee on occasion.

      She quickly connected the call.

      “Melissa, I heard about the shooting. Are you all right?”

      “I’m fine,” Melissa said, then explained what had happened. “The police are looking for Smith, but I don’t think he’s dangerous. He saved my life.”

      “I’m just glad you’re okay.” Candace paused. “There’s another reason I called.”

      Melissa tapped her fingers on her leg. She didn’t like the worry in her friend’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

      “A man named Bill Small at Retreat thinks something has happened to one of his friends. He claims he disappeared.”

      “Did you report it to the police?” Melissa asked.

      Candace sighed. “Yes, but they don’t seem concerned.”

      Sounded typical. A crime scene van pulled into the parking lot, and she saw Dex heading toward her.

      “Why does Bill think something happened to his friend?” Melissa asked.

      “He saw the story about some other missing homeless men, and said his friend expressed concern over them, too. He disappeared the next day.”

      Melissa’s breath stalled in her chest. “Is Bill still at Retreat?”

      “Yes.”

      “I’m with a private detective right now, Candace. We’ll stop by and talk to Bill.”

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