Witness In The Woods. Michele Hauf
Читать онлайн книгу.
to take care of yourself.”
He’d learned exactly what she’d hoped to teach him about her. Regrettably.
Skylar lifted her chin bravely. “Still can take care of myself.”
“Being shot at is no way to go about it, Skylar. If anything would have happened to you…” He winced again and looked aside, toward the fire pit.
Skylar found herself leaning forward in hopes of him finishing that sentence. Then again, she suspected how he would finish it. He’d never hidden his interest in her. And she wasn’t prepared for such a statement right now.
If only he’d said as much to her two months earlier. Of course, then he’d been avoiding her like the plague.
It was well deserved on her part.
He placed his hands akimbo and scanned the lake. “Do you know what direction the shot was fired from?”
She pointed out through the gap in the bowed birch trees that she’d always thought of as a sort of pulled-back curtain to the stage of the lake. “I feel like it came from that way.”
“See anyone down by the shore?”
She shook her head. Then she remembered, and turned to point out the bullet holes that had splintered and pierced the hitching post.
“Two?” Joe bent to study the post with the flashlight. “These are clean, and one goes all the way through.” He paused and glanced at her as if to temper his words for her tender ears.
“I’m a big girl, Joe. You can say the bad stuff without offending or scaring me.”
“I guess so.” He returned his attention to the holes and tapped the post with a finger. “I have some evidence bags in the truck. I’m going to grab them, but I should also call in someone to take some photos and—” His attention veered to the ground behind the post. “Here’s a bullet.”
He tugged out a black latex glove from his pocket, pulled it on and picked up the bullet from the ground. It was long, and Skylar leaned in to peer at it as he did.
Joe swore.
“What is it?” she asked.
“My dad collects guns, and he taught me and my brothers a lot about the different types and their ammunition. This is most definitely from a high-powered rifle, Skylar.”
“I don’t understand. Not the usual hunting rifle?”
“Nope. If that had been the case, that hitching post would be pocked with lead shot. As well as you.”
Skylar sucked in a breath.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to say that.”
She nodded, no longer feeling quite as strong as she wanted to.
Joe turned and again cast a glance across the lake. “I don’t think the shooter was close. Could have been across the lake. Which means this is some serious business.”
He turned to face her directly and asked, “What’s going on? Why would someone be shooting at you? Skylar, is there something you need to tell me?”
Joe had rushed to Skylar’s home upon getting the call from Dispatch. Simply hearing her name had been all he’d needed to become immersed in those old familiar feelings he always got whenever he thought about the tall, sexy blonde. Feelings he wasn’t prepared to let emerge right now, because then he’d have to struggle with what had once felt like heartache.
Hell, who was he kidding? It had been, and still was, heartache.
Save for occasionally spying her walking into the grocery store or out of the local café, he hadn’t spoken to her for almost a year. That had been a purposeful avoidance.
Long, tawny blond hair spilled over her shoulders. And that cowboy hat she always wore shaded her blue eyes, but in the rich evening twilight, a flash of sun from across the lake created glints like sapphires in those irises. And when she parted her soft pink lips to speak, Joe’s heart thundered.
“I don’t know what you think I should know, Joe,” she said. “How can I know who was shooting at me?”
Drawn back to the moment, he briefly met her gaze—and almost fell into that heartache again. But he managed to snag a grip on the present and pull himself up and into business mode.
“It’s standard procedure to ask a lot of questions after an incident like this,” he said. “Any details you can provide that might help me figure this out?” He cast his gaze across the lake again. “It had to have come from across the lake.”
“Really? That far away? It’s a good three-quarters of a mile to the other side.”
“Sniper rifles can hit a target miles away. My brother, Jason, used to be one of the best when he was…well.” Jason didn’t like his family to talk about the fact he used to be a CIA agent. And most didn’t know that he had been. “Not that it was such a rifle. Nothing’s been confirmed yet. But whoever made that shot…”
It wasn’t right to be impressed at a moment like this, but that was some distance to the other side of the lake. Had to have been a boat driving by.
Skylar blew out a breath, but it had a nervous vibration to it. She suddenly stepped to the side and wobbled. Joe caught her arm and shoulder against his chest and hugged her. The scent of pine and lemons teased his nose. He slid a hand down to her waist and across her back to offer her a sturdy hold.
“You okay?”
She nodded, but her expression indicated she was far from okay.
“Let’s get you inside. I don’t think it’s wise to stand out here.”
“You think they could still be out there? It’s been over an hour.”
“Unlikely.” He helped her walk toward the deck. “But you could use a cup of tea or something.”
“Brandy,” she said, then laughed. “Oh, Joe, I guess it did throw me. I was fine after I called the police. But now…”
As they approached the deck stairs, a dog came padding out from the forest that edged the north side of the house.
But wait. That was no dog.
“Stella has finally decided you pass muster.” Skylar gripped the deck railing and sat on the second step from the bottom. “Just give me a minute, will you?”
“Of course.” While Skylar sat to settle her nerves, Joe whistled to the approaching animal. “A timber wolf.”
“She’s my rescue sweetie. Hey, Stella.”
The beautiful wolf approached on light footsteps, her gold eyes and coal nose aimed for Joe. Her tail was held slightly erect, with a bit of a kink to it. Warning, but cautiously optimistic. He’d known that Skylar had found a wolf pup in a trap a few years ago, and thought she’d rehabilitated it and sent it off to its pack. But to keep it as a pet?
By instinct, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head as Stella neared. One thing a human should never do was look a wolf directly in the eye. It was a sign of challenge and authority that he dared not risk with this unfamiliar wolf. He noticed a slight hop to her step. She managed very well on three legs.
Raising his head, Joe held out his hand but did not stretch toward the curious animal. She would sniff him out, decide what she thought about him. As she had likely been doing when she’d been hiding in the woods. A wolf’s sense of smell was far superior to that of a dog’s. Stella had already decided whether he was friend or foe. Because of that, he felt honored that she’d come out to greet him.
The wolf approached on careful footsteps, stretching out her