Roughshod Justice. Delores Fossen
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to go to the guard to make sure this gunman doesn’t get out of the parking lot. I know the guard—Hank Winston—but I have no idea if he’s a good enough shot to stop this person.”
And even if he was a good shot, it was too big of a risk to take. The gunman could shoot an innocent bystander. Heck, if he got inside, he could shoot Hank as well before coming after her.
“I want to go, too,” Kelly insisted. “Just give me a gun.”
Jameson gave her a flat look. “No gun. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you here alone since we don’t know where Boyer is. That means I want you to come with me, but I don’t want you to do anything stupid.”
She nearly asked Jameson what he would consider stupid, but he didn’t give her a chance to say anything. He got them moving out the door of the examining room. Fast. Too fast for Kelly to keep up with her wobbly legs, and Jameson cursed again when he glanced back at her. He looped his arm around her waist and started walking, slower this time.
“Once I take care of this,” Jameson said, “you can finish up with the doctor and then I can get you to the sheriff’s office. If you need protective custody, we can work it out there.”
Kelly didn’t miss the “if.” He still didn’t trust her—which was reasonable—since she couldn’t remember what she’d done or why she was carrying that note ordering her to kill him.
“We need to find my sister, too,” she reminded him, though Kelly was certain he remembered.
“Gabriel’s looking,” he assured her.
Yes, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t look, as well. And she would. But first she had to take care of a possible killer and then find a way to escape. Or at least find a way to get Jameson to believe her so he would help her.
No easy feat.
Apparently, they’d been lovers, but judging from the way Jameson glared at her nearly every time their eyes met, he didn’t feel even a trace of affection for her. However, the attraction was still there, and perhaps that was one of the reasons he was glaring. He didn’t need this heat between them any more than Kelly did.
They made their way down a wide corridor with shiny gray tile floors, and Jameson slowed when they neared the back exit. The guard was there, his gun drawn and pointed at the glass door.
“He’s still out there,” Hank said, sparing Jameson and her a glance. “What should I do?”
“Come over here and wait with her.” Jameson tipped his head to the hall. He took up position by the side of the door so he could peer out into the parking lot. “But keep watch. I don’t want anyone sneaking up on us.”
Neither did Kelly, so she kept watch, as well. “Maybe if I could get a look at the gunman, I might recognize him?” she said.
Jameson spared her a glance. “Your memory’s starting to come back?” There it was again. The skepticism that she’d never lost it in the first place.
“No. But seeing him might trigger something.”
“Seeing him might get you killed,” Jameson pointed out. “This glass is reinforced, but it’s not bullet-resistant.”
Which meant Jameson could be shot, too. Kelly had already put him in enough danger, so she leaned out, trying to get a glimpse of the gunman.
And she got it all right.
The tall lanky man ran from the back of an SUV to a truck. But the new position didn’t put him closer to the building. Nor did his next move when he darted behind a car. He was moving laterally. Maybe so he could have a better shot?
Or was this about something else?
“Hell,” Jameson said. “I think this clown is just a decoy.” Obviously, he’d reached the same conclusion Kelly just had. “A second gunman’s probably already in the building.”
Both Hank and Kelly shot glances around them. The hall wasn’t empty. There were two people wearing green scrubs, a man holding the hand of a toddler and a woman carrying a vase of flowers. All seemed to be doing normal things that people would do in a hospital.
Seemed.
The flower-carrying woman was walking slow, staying behind the man and the little boy, but Kelly didn’t think they were together. She got confirmation of that when the boy stumbled and the woman didn’t even reach out to break his fall. It was the man who picked up the child. He kissed the boy on the cheek and started walking again, coming up the hall toward them.
Jameson took out his phone and texted someone. Gabriel, probably. To let his brother know what was going on.
“See anyone suspicious?” Jameson asked Hank and her when he’d finished.
Hank shook his head. Kelly didn’t. “The woman with the flowers could be carrying a gun,” she said.
Though it wasn’t visible. Still, she was wearing jeans and could have a concealed weapon in a slide holster. Plus, there was something about the intense look on her face that set off alarms inside her. So intense that Kelly moved out of her line of sight and pulled Hank next to her.
Jameson hurried from the back door just long enough to glance down the hall, and he made a frustrated sound of agreement. “We can’t risk her firing shots. Not with that kid and the other innocent people standing around.”
Kelly could see and feel the debate going on inside Jameson. They didn’t have time to wait for backup. Nor did they have a lot of options here. If whoever was behind this had indeed set up a decoy, then there could be more than one hired killer in the hospital.
“Come on,” Jameson finally said. He motioned for them to follow him to the door, and he made brief eye contact with Hank. “Keep hold of Kelly, and when we get outside, get her down behind the first vehicle you reach.”
The blood rushed to her head, and Kelly felt the kick of adrenaline. And fear. So many things could go wrong right now, and staying put could be the biggest mistake of all. Still, she hated to go out there without any way to defend herself.
Hank put his arm around Kelly’s waist, and the moment Jameson unlocked the door, they started moving. So did the decoy. He lifted his head, and Kelly saw the surprise register in his eyes.
It didn’t last.
Because the moment the man turned his rifle in their directions, Jameson took aim and shot him square in the chest. The guy dropped like a stone, and Kelly could tell he was dead. But she could no longer see him because Hank did as Jameson said, and he pulled her to the side of a minivan.
“Do you have a backup gun or knife?” she whispered to Hank. “I’m a PI. I know how to shoot.” Or at least she thought she did. Now, if she could just remember the firearms training she would have almost certainly had in order to get a private investigator’s license.
Hank glanced back at her, and even though Kelly could tell he was plenty uncertain about this, he lifted the leg of his pants and took a small handgun from his boot holster. Kelly didn’t waste a second pivoting toward the door so she could keep watch for that woman who might be coming after them.
Jameson took cover as well—using the red truck on the other side of the door. And they waited.
The moments crawled by, and Kelly soon heard a welcome sound. Sirens. Backup had arrived, and maybe that meant these would-be killers would call off the attack. She wanted answers. Wanted to know who was responsible for this. But she didn’t want those answers if it meant innocent people could die.
“Get down!” Jameson shouted just as a shot was fired.
Kelly expected the bullet to go in Jameson’s direction. It didn’t. It came in hers. The shot slammed into the minivan just inches from where Hank and she were crouching.
That sent Kelly and him scurrying to the side, but moving in any direction was a risk. Yes, Jameson had shot the