Kit still felt a little light-headed, but she had a feeling it didn’t have a thing to do with getting knocked on the head. In fact, she was quite sure it had to do with getting knocked off her feet. Even though she’d been sitting down.
That kiss had left her reeling and she wasn’t quite sure what to think about it.
Or do about it.
Then again, did anything need to be done?
Apprehension curled inside her and she wondered if he’d just ignore it—or do it again.
She wasn’t sure which option she wanted to happen.
“You’re awfully quiet.”
“Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Thinking about that kiss? Because I sure am.”
Okay, so he wasn’t going to ignore it.
She breathed a little laugh. “Oh yeah, I’m thinking about it.”
“And wondering how it’s going to affect our partnership?”
“That too,” she admitted.
He shrugged. “We just won’t let it.”
She raised a brow at him. “You think?”
He shot her a warm smile. “I think. I don’t regret it and plan on doing it again. Now, how’s your head?”
She didn’t know how to respond. To the comment that he wanted to kiss her again or answer the question about her head. She chose the latter and winced. “Throbbing.”
Sympathy made him frown. “I’m sure. We’ll find you some ibuprofen or something when we get back to the hospital.”
“I’ll take it.”
At the hospital, Kit and Noah went straight to the surgery waiting room. Brig sat next to the window, knitting needles clicking away. The needles paused as Kit slipped into the chair next to her and asked, “How’s she doing?”
“So far so good is what they tell me,” she reported, her eyes taking in Noah, who sat next to Kit. Then her eyes narrowed back on Kit. “What happened to you?”
“I had a little run-in with a bad guy.”
Brig put aside her knitting and pushed her glasses up. Leaning in, she examined Kit’s head, then made a tsking sound. “You should have that looked at.”
“I just need to take some ibuprofen. I know you have some in that monstrosity you call a purse.”
Brig gave an affronted frown. “That ‘monstrosity,’ as you call it, is the best purse I’ve ever had. I can fit anything in there and always have what I need.” So saying, she rummaged through it and came up with a bottle of Motrin. She shook it and handed it over with a smirk. “And what everyone else needs too.”
Kit popped two dry and leaned her head back against the wall.
A cup of water made its way into her hand and she looked up to see Noah standing in front of her. Grateful, she took several swallows, then looked at Brig. “Guess you already met my partner, huh?”
“I did.”
Kit made the formal introductions anyway, and Brig went back to her knitting with a speculative gleam in her eye.
Noah’s cell phone rang and he excused himself.
Brig took the opportunity to cast a questioning glance at Kit. “Well?”
Kit played innocent. “What do you mean?”
“He means something to you. What?”
“He’s my partner. That’s it.”
“Uh-huh, right.” Back to the knitting. “That’s why he looks at you like he’d like to stake a claim on your heart.”
“Brig!” Refusing to squirm or say another word about it, Kit pressed her lips together.
Noah came back in, the grim look on his face causing her to sit up straight. “What is it?”
“They spotted the black Mustang.”
“Are they sure it’s the right one? Where?”
“They’re sure. It has that yellow eagle on the hood. At a diner off I-85. Units are responding even as we speak.”
Kit bit her lip and looked in the direction of the operating room where her mother would be for another hour or so.
“Go,” Brig said.
“What?” Kit jerked her eyes back to her mother’s friend.
“Go. Your mom will understand.” She glanced at Kit’s head. “And seeing that won’t be a good thing for her. You know how she worries about you.”
On impulse, Kit leaned over and hugged the woman who’d been another mother to her growing up. “Thanks. Give her my love and tell her I’ll be in to see her as soon as I can, okay?”
“Are you working that serial killer case?”
Surprised, Kit cocked her head. “Yes, why?”
“Thought you probably were. Your mom would want you to get that guy off the streets. You know she would. So go take care of it.”
“Thanks, Brig.”
Kit and Noah rushed from the hospital, Noah snagging the keys from his pocket. “We’re about twenty minutes away from him.”
Once in the car, he put the siren and the light on and they raced to the location Noah had been given.
Four police cruisers sat in the parking lot. Several patrons stood outside watching the excitement.
Kit climbed out of the car and flashed her badge as Noah did the same.
The officer in charge came up. “I’m Gage Wilder. Your man is long gone. He left this Mustang here and stole a motorcycle.”
“Who’s the car registered to?”
Officer Wilder consulted his notes. “A Zachary Hadley. He reported it stolen from the Wofford Law College early this morning.”
Kit paused, then drew in a slow breath. “He was watching me even then.”
Noah lifted a brow. “What?”
“This was a spur-of-the-moment trip. In order to follow me, he had to have been watching me.”
“Why would he follow you in a stolen car?”
Shoving her hands in her pockets, she walked a few steps away then back. “I don’t know. That doesn’t make sense.”
“Unless,” Noah said slowly, “he has another target in mind and was going to use the stolen vehicle in some way.”
“Like to avoid getting caught?”
“Yeah.”
“But he was watching my house, saw me—us—leave, and made a last-minute decision to follow.”
A hand reached up to rub his neck and Noah frowned as he thought. “But he stayed on the highway when we turned off. How did he know you were going to be at the cemetery?”
She blew out a sigh. “Good question. But right now, I’m more concerned with another question.”
“Who is his next victim? The one he’s already got picked out and was ready to snatch this morning before he decided to follow us?” Noah guessed.
“You got it in one.”