A Secret In Conard County. Rachel Lee

she wasn’t making sense—hardly surprising—but he wanted her to think about it again. Her thoughts had turned into wisps that floated away before she could grab them. She was no longer a threat to this guy. His type preferred to work in familiar geographical areas. So...

      All of a sudden she sat bolt upright, then wished she hadn’t as the pain broke through the fuzz and drew an unusual groan from her.

      “What?” Lance asked as he returned with the milk jug.

      “I had a thought...” She leaned back and closed her eyes.

      “What did you think?”

      “That there’s something I don’t know. Something my field office evidently does know, because now that I’m out of the area, I’d be taking this perp out of his comfort zone, and profiling says he wouldn’t do that. So what do they know? What did I miss? Why are they worried at all about me?”

      As the pain began to ease, she opened her eyes and saw that her coffee was again milky. Lance stood there screwing the top back on the gallon container.

      “Let me think about that,” he said. “Be right back.”

      She watched him return to the kitchen and felt her hand itch to pull out the phone and call Fran. Fran would know everything about the case, about whether there was new information. But something stayed her. God, she was getting paranoid. Now she didn’t even want to call her best friend?

      When Lance returned, he sat on the couch across from her. “Seems to me,” he said, “that this guy stopped fitting a profile when he came after you. First, you weren’t his victim type. Second, he shot you, so he’s not afraid to kill that way. Most bombers are cowards, aren’t they?”

      She nodded. “Well away from the death and destruction they cause. Murder at long distance.”

      “This guy tried one up close and personal. So maybe they’re thinking he’s a wild card and don’t want to inadvertently leave you hanging in the breeze.”

      “Maybe.”

      “And shooting a Fed? That’s far from risk-averse. Much as you all wanted this guy before, I bet your colleagues want him even more now.”

      She had no doubt of that. She’d lost count of the times her fellow agents had visited her in the hospital and made solemn promises to bring this guy down for her. Oh, they’d always wanted him, but now it was personal in a new way.

      “So okay,” Lance said. “Maybe this guy won’t come this far for you. Like you said, out of his comfort zone. But nobody wants to bet your life on it now.”

      It made sense, as much sense as anything could when her brain seemed foggy. She was nowhere near 100 percent, mentally or physically, and that irritated her beyond words. She should never have taken the pain medicine. But even as she scolded herself for it, she was glad of this respite. For a little while, pain was far away, at the distant edges of her awareness.

      “Lance?”

      “Yeah?”

      “Who are these guys who are coming by tonight?”

      “I can’t say exactly.”

      The fog instantly receded. “How can you not know? You’re going to let strangers in?”

      “Not strangers. I know all the guys Gage will contact. They’ve been around awhile.”

      “Men who’ve been sent on classified missions to undisclosed locations.”

      “Exactly.”

      “And you have more than four of them in this county?” The thought boggled her mind. Men like that didn’t exactly grow on trees, and this county was far from overpopulated. Coming up with four shouldn’t be a lottery.

      Lance smiled. “It started decades ago with our former sheriff. He was a Green Beret in Vietnam. He brought a friend a few years later, and for some reason more followed over the years. One of them is his son, a retired navy SEAL. Somehow we’ve gathered them.”

      “I guess so. Aren’t they rusty?”

      “They don’t let themselves get rusty.”

      That was a comment she would have liked to pursue, but it seemed like too much trouble at that moment. Instead she put her mind to finishing her coffee in the hopes it would help keep her brain in gear.

      “Let me go make another pot,” Lance said as he watched her drain her cup. “I hope you don’t mind roast chicken for dinner.”

      “Sounds good. Thanks.”

      Watching Lance walk away, her unguarded thoughts insisted on reminding her that he was one attractive man. Too bad she hurt so much. Too bad she would be returning to the road as soon as she could.

      Because she sure would have liked to get him in the sack for just one night.

      * * *

      The bomber answered the phone, hearing the long anticipated mechanical voice.

      “I know where she might be,” the voice said.

      The bomber had been growing antsy. Two weeks of sitting on his hands until the agent got out of the hospital, followed by two weeks when the voice didn’t know where she’d gone. He had two bombs waiting to be used, and he was itching to get out and look for another woman who needed a lesson.

      “You stay where you are,” the voice said. “Don’t go after another woman. Not yet. It’s still too dangerous.”

      That caused him to settle, like it or not. He’d been so close to going out hunting tonight.

      “I have to verify the information,” the voice said. “And you need to get ready to travel.”

      “Travel?” The bomber didn’t like the idea. Leave the only safety he had?

      “You heard me. She saw you. She’s out of the area right now. When the time comes, you either go after her, or you’re going to be sitting in court with her pointing a finger at you. Understand?”

      He understood. “When?”

      “I don’t know yet. You’re not the only one who needs to be careful.”

      So the voice had some worries, too? He liked that. He eyed the bombs, and figured he could build another while he waited. After he took out the agent, maybe he could use them on his way back from wherever he had to go. Yeah, he liked that idea.

      “Wait for my call.” The voice disconnected.

      Anger began to sizzle in him. How the voice had found him, he didn’t know. But he didn’t like having his strings pulled like this. Didn’t like the idea of traveling. Didn’t like that he couldn’t set another bomb.

      He hated the voice. But he feared its threats even more.