“He asked me what kind of evaluations you perform and I told him. Let’s face it, Shelby. If one of your patients doesn’t like your recommendation, they could get very nasty.” She started to protest, but he cut her off. “You lost your brother and I’m sorry about that. I understand you want to help people, but you are evaluating some of the most dangerous men this country has ever produced. And sometimes your recommendation is the only thing keeping them from doing what they love. That’s liable to elicit some bitterness on their part.”
Anger burned through her at his tone, at the way he almost made it sound like she’d brought this on herself, just because she looked out for the best interests of her patients. She knew he didn’t necessarily agree with her recommendations—Michael Finley was proof of that. But she had hoped that he at least respected her work and her choices, most of the time if not always. He was happy to collect the contract money the government paid them for performing this service, without concern for her safety, at least before today.
He reached for her hand. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Shelby.”
“David, it wasn’t your fault.” She gripped his hand and some of her irritation faded.
“I feel responsible. I told Colette to cancel all your appointments for the rest of the week.”
And suddenly, her irritation kicked in again. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“You need time to rest and recuperate.”
“I’m fine, David. It’s just a few cuts—no worse than if I’d tripped and fallen. I don’t need you coddling me. I want to work.”
“You’re so stubborn,” he said, standing and running a hand over his face. “You’re on medical leave as of right now, and that’s an order.”
She chuckled at his posturing. David had been a military psychiatrist for twelve years before leaving to open his own private practice. He might be used to ordering people around, but that didn’t mean she’d accept those orders. “I’m not in the military, remember? You’re my partner, not my superior officer.”
He turned to look at her, then sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m acting overbearing again, aren’t I? You have every right to make your own decisions, but, Shelby, please take some time. You’ve just been through a frightening ordeal. Don’t jump back into work until you’re certain you’re ready.”
His words made sense. Every day, she counseled patients not to rush back to work before they’d had an opportunity to process their trauma. Work couldn’t be everything, and after a traumatic event, it could easily become a crutch. It rarely fixed anything and was a dangerous path to go down.
And even before this, her life had been all work and no play for more years than she cared to admit.
A knock at the door grabbed her attention, and she looked up, her face warming at the sight of Paul Avery standing there, flowers in his grip.
Speaking of men who liked to jump back into their work...
David stuffed his fists into his pockets. “Well, I’ll let you get some rest. I’ll call to check on you later.” He headed for the door where he stopped to speak to Paul. “Thank you again for protecting her. I owe you.” He reached out and Paul shook his hand. David waved to her, then walked out.
Paul approached the bed and held out the flowers. “How are you feeling?”
She took the bouquet and smelled it, enjoying the sweet, fresh aroma of the carnations. “A little shaky but okay.”
“That’s understandable after what happened.”
She was grateful he’d been there. That he’d thought to come to check up on her told her Paul Avery was a compassionate man. She liked that about him. And she was grateful to have the opportunity to talk to him about it all. Most of the event was still a blur to her. Maybe he could give her some answers. “What did happen? One minute, I was talking, and the next, you were tackling me, then shooting started.”
“No, the shooting started first—then I tackled you. I noticed the flash of the scope in the window.”
She thought back. “Yes, so did I.” Well, she’d noticed the light. She hadn’t realized it was a scope. “The police were asking me if I have any enemies. Should I be asking the same of you? Maybe you were the intended target.”
He cocked his head and gave her an I-don’t-think-so look. “I wasn’t the one standing at the window.”
She couldn’t argue that point.
“So, you can’t think of anyone who might want to harm you?” he asked.
“No, no one. I can’t begin to imagine who would do such a thing.”
“Well, it was a sniper shot and you do counsel a lot of military. We should check out that angle first.”
Were Paul, David and that Detective Murphy all comparing notes outside her door? She started to mention it, then noticed the hesitation in his eyes. “What is it?”
He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “I was just thinking... I had time to go to my car, grab my weapon and chase the shooter down before he drove away. A trained sniper should have been long gone once the bullets stopped flying.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand. Are you saying he wasn’t actually a sniper?” True, he hadn’t managed to hit her—but she’d chalked that up to Paul’s quick response.
“Maybe. It’s also possible he was waiting around to see if he could get another shot at his target.”
The matter-of-factness in his voice was chilling but also typical in his field. He was trained to deal with people as targets, without any emotion or personal involvement. She shuddered at the thought that the man who’d shot at her might have been standing around watching, even afterward. “Thanks a lot for that image.”
“You should look back through your patient list,” he advised. “See if there is anyone who might have a grudge against you of any kind. It wouldn’t hurt to have the police check those people out.”
He was right. If this was an attack on her, it almost certainly had something to do with her job as a psychologist. Her social life was nearly nonexistent, and the last time she’d gone out on a date had been months ago. She doubted that man would have suddenly developed a violent obsession with her. Her life was too dull and boring to elicit any hatred that strong.
Paul stood to leave but turned back. “Oh, and if you need to reschedule coming to the ranch, I totally understand.” He gave her a wink, and she couldn’t help grinning at his teasing tone.
The nurse entered before Shelby could assure him that she wasn’t going to let this attack place her on the sidelines.
“All right, Dr. Warren,” she said with a warm smile. “I’ve got your discharge papers ready to go.”
She was thankful to be leaving, but suddenly, going home alone to an empty apartment made her uneasy. She had no family waiting at home for her, and no roommate. If her attacker found her again, there would be no one with her but her cat, Ruby.
“Is someone picking you up?” the nurse asked. She was a middle-aged woman who reminded Shelby eerily of her third-grade teacher. She had the odd feeling that if the nurse didn’t like her answer, she’d get sent to the principal’s office.
“I came by ambulance, so my car is still at my office,” she replied meekly. “I’ll...call a cab to take me home.”
Paul, now standing by the door, intervened. “I’ll drive you. I’ve got my truck downstairs, and I’m already here.”
The idea of getting into a strange cab unsettled her. At least she knew Paul wasn’t the one who’d been shooting at her. She stared up into the deep blue of his eyes and gave him a nod of thanks. “I’d appreciate that.”
“I’ll bring the truck around.”
The nurse watched him walk out then turned to Shelby. “He seems like a nice young man. Polite. You’ve got a good one there.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“No? Well, that’s your loss. He’s cute too.”
&nbs
p; She wasn’t wrong. She’d been intrigued by Paul Avery’s stunning good looks from the moment she’d met him. The combination of his athletic build, strong jawline, dark hair and startling blue eyes gave him a movie-star attractiveness. But unlike your typical matinee idol, he was also haunted by something and—maybe it was the psychologist in her—she found that appealing too. “I’m his therapist. I can’t get involved with a patient.”
“A patient who brings you flowers,” the nurse pointed out, raising an eyebrow.
“He was just worried—he was there when I was attacked today.” She felt her face warm. He’d tackled her to save her life, not for any funny business, but the memory of his arms around her was still so fresh and vivid. As vivid as the shots that had rung out at the same moment.
The nurse let out a sigh full of skepticism but didn’t say anything else as she helped her get ready, then wheeled her downstairs where Paul was waiting in a blue pickup. He got out and walked around to open the passenger door for her, then helped her onto the seat. She was still a bit unsteady on her feet and was grateful for the help. She gave him directions to her apartment complex, and a few minutes later, he pulled into a parking spot and helped her upstairs to her second-floor home.
She dug the key from her purse and hovered it over the lock, anxiety flooding her. Was it possible that someone was inside, waiting?
Paul must have noticed her hesitation, because he took the key from her. “Why don’t you let me check out the place first.” She started to protest, but he continued, “Seriously, it would make me feel better.” He was probably lying to make her feel better, but she handed him the key anyway. Having him check the apartment for intruders would make her feel safer.
He unlocked the door, then stepped in. “It’s clear,” he said after several minutes and she followed him inside, suddenly feeling very ridiculous.
She tossed her purse on the counter, never so glad to see home. The day’s events had drained her and she couldn’t wait to find comfort in the familiarity of her belongings. “Thank you for your help today, Paul. I appreciate it.”
“No problem, Doc. I’m glad I was there.”
“Me too.”
Intellectually, she knew men like Paul stepped into danger’s path every day. She’d never really understood that instinct, but today, she was thankful for it. She didn’t even want to think about what might have happened if she’d been alone in her office when the sniper had taken those shots.
A thump sounded from the living room and Shelby jumped. She spun around to see her cat had knocked a book off the table. She flushed, embarrassed that she’d been so easily startled. She knew perfectly well that it was a normal response to what she’d been through, but it made her feel extra vulnerable in front of the handsome SEAL.
His blue eyes probed her face. “Are you going to be all right here by yourself? Is there someone you can call to come stay with you?”
There was no one. Steven had been her only sibling, and her parents had been killed in a car wreck two years ago. She had a few friends—more like acquaintances—she could call if she absolutely needed to, but she wasn’t at that point yet.
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Thanks again for driving me home and, you know, saving my life today.”
He gave a you’re-welcome grin and turned to walk out, glancing back one last time before he closed the door behind him. When he was gone, she made certain the lock was firmly engaged, then went around her apartment to ensure all the blinds were closed. She checked the balcony door and found it was also secure. She wasn’t usually so safety conscious, but after today, the need to check and recheck everything was strong. It was a normal psychological reaction after a trauma. The response wasn’t entirely healthy, but knowing that didn’t change her need to do it.
Once she was satisfied that everything was locked up, she leaned against the front door and tried to slow her breathing. She would work herself into a frenzy if she wasn’t careful.
She heated up a frozen meal for dinner and poured herself a cup of tea before settling onto the couch. Ruby jumped up to join her and curled up on her lap.
Shelby teasingly scolded her for giving her such a fright earlier, then rubbed her ears, thankful for the company she provided.
She sipped her tea and settled into the quiet of her small, cozy apartment. She tried to pretend everything was fine, but she remained nervous and edgy until she went to bed that night and sleep finally pulled her away.
* * *
Paul headed back to his hotel. Courtland was only a two-hour drive from Dallas, but since he’d signed up for a week-long evaluation, he’d chosen to get a hotel room instead of driving back and forth each day. He unlocked the door and walked into his small, freshly cleaned hotel room. He tossed his jacket onto the bed but couldn’t sit still. He was ramped up, nervous about leaving Dr. Warren alone after today’s incident. If he hadn’t noticed the flash from the sniper’s scope, Shelby Warren would be dead. But something about the shooting gnawed at him. The shots had been precise. Only Paul’s action had prevented her from being hit. That meant the sniper was well trained, but the fact that Paul had been able to chase him down still bugged him.
So did the certainty that if this guy, whoever he was, wanted her dead, he would try again.
On a purely practical level, if Dr. Warren was harmed, it would delay his return to active duty. He’d have to start over again with a new therapist before he could be cleared. He didn’t like the thought of that. He wanted to get this week of testing over with, get the home visit completed, and get back to active-duty status.
But practicalities aside, he didn’t want her to get hurt. He’d known her for only a couple of days, but he already admired her. She was a strong woman, dedicated and, dare he think it, beautiful. He’d seen the photo of a man on her desk. She hadn’t spoken of him, but the fellow’s marine uniform told him all he needed to know, especially given the hurt in her eyes after glancing at it. She’d lost someone important to her to the service. He knew a thing or two about that too. His best friend and teammate, Terry Sykes, had died in battle, the same shootout that had sent Paul back to the states with a round through his gut and nerve damage he feared would never go away. Try as he might, Paul hadn’t been able to save Terry, and his friend had died in his arms.
Paul pulled out the phone and dialed his brother Colby’s number, just for something to do and someone to talk to, but the call went to voice mail. His brother worked for the FBI and was probably out on a case. Paul envied him. Being here alone was driving him crazy. His usual social circle was his team, but they were deployed and he wasn’t one to go to bars. He felt like a lion on the prowl. He needed to do something to occupy his mind. He was ready to end this, ready to at least return to Silver Star, his family’s ranch, where he could be left alone.
No, wait. Dr. Warren was supposed to go there to observe him in his environment. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but he was ready to get it over with, get this evaluation completed and submitted so he could finally be reinstated to active duty. The broken leg he’d gotten over the holidays had slowed him down and he could feel his skills rusting away as each day passed. He’d already been out of the action for too long. If he was away for much longer, his unit wouldn’t be able to trust him to be up to snuff when he returned. He wasn’t even sure he’d trust himself. His reentry would be hard, it would take a lot of practice and retraining, but he was looking forward to being useful again.
Not that his recovery at Silver Star had been boring. Twice in the past year, he’d had to assist his brothers, first Lawson, then Miles, protect the women they loved from danger. Thankfully, in both instances, everyone but the bad guys had had their happy endings. Paul had ended up with two new sisters-in-law—and also a broken leg, which had stalled his recovery even further. For the past few months, there had been nothing to challenge him or put him in any danger at all.
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Not that he was looking for another drug runner or mob boss to liven up his life, but the action, much like the action that had occurred this afternoon at Dr. Warren’s office, got his adrenaline pumping, and he liked that sensation. He liked feeling as if he’d just hit fifth gear and was ready to race. Liked being in a position to protect someone, to use his hard-won skills.
He grabbed his jacket and his gun. If someone was going to target Shelby Warren, it wasn’t going to be while he was around. He would keep an eye on her apartment to make sure the attacker didn’t return to finish his task. He couldn’t be there for his team, to watch their backs, but he could give himself this new mission and help keep someone safe.
Copyright © 2021 by Virginia Vaughan
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ISBN-13: 9781488072246
Deadly River Pursuit
Copyright © 2021 by Heather Humrichouse
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Deadly River Pursuit Page 19
