Shaken, Cait stared at the cracked windshield. “Thank God for safety glass. Are you all right?”
Her voice quivering, June said, “I think so. That pickup came at us like a bat out of hell.”
Cait reached back to stroke Niki as he tried to crawl between the front seats. He was shaking but didn’t appear to be hurt. She leaned over the wheel and poked her finger through the hole in the windshield. “I wonder where the bullet went.” She ran her hand over the leather seat. “No damage in here that I can see. Let’s get out of here before he decides to come back and try again.” She checked for traffic, then lightly tapped the gas pedal to avoid jarring shards of glass from the windshield.
“Maybe we should call RT,” June said, “in case that pickup is parked ahead. Can you see okay to drive?”
“Well enough. We don’t have far to go. They wouldn’t have caught up to me if not for those turkeys.” She glanced at June. “I’m still glad we went to the ranch. Are you?”
“Absolutely. ‘Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.’ ”
“What?”
“Othello. Think about it.”
“Oh.” When she turned into the driveway, she struggled to see out the cracked windshield so she wouldn’t clip the chardonnay or cabernet vines or run over the red roses bordering the edges. RT stood in front of the house, arms crossed as he talked with the police officers. He turned and stared as she drove past, his face registering shock. He ran after her, but she continued until she pulled up in front of the garage and cut the engine. RT yanked her door open.
The officers caught up and stared at her car.
Niki barked, his front paws up on the back of Cait’s seat.
“What the hell happened?” RT demanded.
“We were shot at. We’re not hurt, but I want to find the bullet that ruined my windshield.” She reached to unbuckle her seatbelt but it wouldn’t budge. She pulled harder. “What’s wrong with this thing?”
RT let Niki out. “Jesus, Cait, if I didn’t know better I’d think you liked being in the crosshairs of a crazy killer. Maybe now you’ll stay home until he’s captured.”
RT’s disapproval upset her; that she deserved it only made it worse. She quit wrestling with the seatbelt. “Shut up and get me out of here. I’m glad I went to the ranch.” She tugged again on her seatbelt. “What’s wrong with it?”
June released her belt to help Cait. “Maybe it’s the angle.” She pushed the release button. “It’s damaged.” She tugged until the buckle opened.
“This is a new car. It can’t be damaged,” she said as she climbed out of the car.
RT slid in. “The buckle’s dented.”Then, pointing at a depression in the buckle, he said, “It looks like this buckle took the bullet instead of you.”
Cait stared at the buckle RT held up.
“I told you to call before you left the ranch. Better yet, you should have stayed home,” he said as he backed out of the car.
She glared at him and then walked away. I hate it when he’s right.
“Got it!” June said.
Cait swung around.
June held her hand up, a smile spreading across her face. “The bullet! I found it in the gearshift well.”
“Let me see.” RT held his hand out.
“ ‘This all lies within the will of God.’ Henry V, in case anyone cares.” She dropped the bullet in RT’s hand.
“Well, what do you know,” RT said. He turned the bullet over in his hand. “Came from a thirty-eight S and W Special, same as was found in the cave.” He showed it to Cait.
“Detective Rook’s coming if he can get away,” one of the officers said as he slipped his cell into his pocket.
Cait glanced at the bullet and then handed it to the officer. “Have a look at the buckle.”
While one officer examined the bullet, the other officer slid inside the car. Using his hands, he gauged the angle and distance from the bullet hole to where it struck the buckle. He wrote measurements on a pad before he backed out of the car. He looked at Cait with his thumb and forefinger separated an inch. “That’s how close you came to being shot in the hip. He had to have been hanging out the window to shoot at that angle.”
She remembered her gun was still in the car and reached in to get it. “Someone had his head out on the passenger side. It’s a big pickup with big tires.”
Jim Hart came around from the back of the garage. He stopped and stared at the fractured windshield. “I thought you left here to escape trouble.”
“That was our intention,” Cait said. “Change your mind yet about coming here to retire, Jim?”
June smiled and wrapped her arm through Jim’s. “Well, you know how it is with the best-laid plans of mice and men. Life needs some zing to keep it interesting.”
Cait noticed RT sweating from either the hot afternoon sun or anger. Struck with a pang of guilt, she wanted to take his hand and reassure him she was okay.
“Marcus can arrange to have your windshield replaced,” RT said.
She stooped to run her hands over Niki, looking for signs of injury. “I’m sorry, Niki.” She glanced at RT. “Any treats in your pocket?”
He shook his head. “Let’s go in.”
Marcus stood in the doorway, looking as if he was about to leave. “I heard the car. Something wrong?”
“Isn’t there always?” RT responded.
Marcus held the door open for them. “What happened?”
“My windshield is cracked,” Cait said. “Would you please call the insurance company and arrange to have it replaced?”
Marcus frowned. “It’s a new car.”
“Better tell him,” RT said.
She rubbed the back of her neck. “The window is shattered because someone shot at us.”
His face pale as parchment, Marcus said, “I’ll take care of it. I want to look at the damage first.” He turned to the officers. “You’re not doing a very good job protecting her.”
“They’re doing their job,” RT snapped.
“Marcus,” Cait said, “it happened. We’ll deal with it.”
Worry lines etched in his brow, Marcus said, “I hope no one leaves me anything in their will.”
The afternoon dragged on into the dinner hour, and Cait became more exhausted with each tick of the clock. She’d explained what happened too often, almost in a robotic state. When Detective Rook arrived, she repeated the story again. She wanted to go upstairs with Niki and crawl into bed with a romantic suspense novel. Instead, she asked the officers to stay for dinner, but they declined, saying they had other obligations. Rook called the station and made arrangements for a couple of officers looking for overtime to be there by nine in the morning.
Rook passed on the beer RT offered while June grilled pork chops Marcus had bought at the grocery store. They sat at the counter and talked about how to capture Wally Dillon and what to do with Calder Manning when he arrived.
“I hope this is over before RT leaves,” Marcus said.
Cait’s eyes locked on RT. She’d fallen back into the pattern of having him around again. Being part of one of the best special forces units in the world, he could be called up at a moment’s notice—something she didn’t like to think about. With the exception of those storybook incidents played out on television, their operations against terrorists were shrouded in secrecy, as were RT’s.
RT smiled and rested his hand on Cait’s knee.
The light touch of his hand caused a heat wave to flash through her.
“RT,” Marcus said, “how long’s your leave?”
RT cleared his throat and took a quick swallow from his glass of water. “Supposed to be a couple of weeks.”
Rook pushed his plate away. “The Navy doesn’t run on our schedule.” His cell rang; he answered, listened. “Twenty minutes,” he said and slipped off his stool. “Sorry to eat and run, Cait. Thanks for dinner.” He shook RT’s hand. “Don’t leave without letting me know.”
Cait walked Rook to the front door. “It must be hard being a cop’s wife, with the hours you keep.”
Rook laughed. “My wife goes with the flow, one day at a time, until I retire. You were a cop. How’d your husband handle it?”
“Not well. He was a police chaplain. He should have understood.” She opened the door and Rook stepped out onto the porch.
“From one cop to another, keep your gun loaded.”
She nodded and locked the door after him.
Jim and June returned to their RV. Marcus left after he called the insurance company about her windshield. Cait and RT were suddenly alone. She cleared the dishes and RT put them in the dishwasher.
“I’m spending the night here,” RT said, “and every night until Wally is in handcuffs.”
“That’s not necessary. The house is alarmed and I’ve got Niki.”
RT grabbed hold of Cait’s arms. “This is not negotiable. I’ll sleep upstairs in the guest bedroom.”
Like that’s going to help me sleep, she thought, with one staircase separating them. She wasn’t made of stone. She wanted him in her bed.
“So,” he said. “Ready to go up?”
“Don’t you need things from your trailer? Toothbrush, pajamas . . .”
He grinned. “Never wear pajamas. And the guest bathroom’s equipped with everything I’ll need. I checked.”
“You planned this?”
“Navy’s motto—be prepared.”
She wondered what else he prepared for.
He wound a lock of her hair around his finger. “Don’t worry, Cait. There’s a lock on your bedroom door.”
He turned the lights out. “Lead the way.”
When they reached the second floor, she hesitated. Her hand shook with anticipation as she reached in her pocket for the key. RT took it from her, unlocked the door, and returned the key.
“Want me to come up and tuck you in?”
Yes, her mind screamed. Still, she hesitated.
RT grabbed her around the waist and kissed her hard and released her. “Adults don’t play games. Good night, Cait.”
Stunned, she stared at his back. What just happened?