In A Killer's Sights. Sandra Robbins

she felt about it.

      Her face flushed and she jerked her gaze away. “Then I suppose you know our history.”

      “Some of it, but right now I’m more interested in what happened when you were attacked. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

      Dean listened as Gwen recounted her tale of being pursued through the forest by a man wearing a ski mask and how terrified she’d been when he’d leveled the gun and shot at her. When she’d finished, Dean described the shots that had caused the ambulance to go over the side of the mountain and what had happened after that.

      “This guy knew me,” Dean said. “When I got to my feet, he called me by name. Not long after that, he turned and ran. He’d already started the fire by that time, though.”

      “Did you recognize his voice?” Ben asked.

      Dean shook his head. “No. It was muffled by the ski mask, but there was something familiar about it.”

      The sheriff sighed. “If you come up with anything that could help us, let me know. Looks like our guy has had a busy day. Instead of a search for just a shooter, now I have to let my deputies know we’re looking for a body in the stream, too.”

      He turned and walked a few feet away before he took out a cell phone. Dean could hear him talking to Dispatch, giving orders to change the focus of the hunt. He’d just finished the call when Joe came to stand beside them.

      “How’s the driver?” Gwen asked.

      A troubled look flashed on Joe’s face. “He must have hit his head on the steering wheel when we crashed. He’s still unconscious, and we’re getting ready to leave with him for the hospital. Sorry, but both of you have to come, too. We want to make sure you don’t have any internal injuries.”

      “And what about you?” Dean asked.

      Joe chuckled. “I’ll get checked out, too. They’re taking Wilson up to the ambulance right now.” He glanced at Gwen. “Miss Anderson, you need to lie down on the stretcher so we can get you up the incline, too.”

      “I don’t need a stretcher,” she protested. “I can walk.”

      Before Joe could answer her, Dean stepped closer. “You’ve been through a lot this afternoon, Gwen. Joe and the paramedics are just doing their jobs, so do what they say, please.”

      She opened her mouth as if she meant to argue further, but then closed it and nodded. “Okay, I don’t want to be difficult.”

      Two of the first responders appeared beside them with a stretcher and lowered it for Gwen to lie down. She huffed out another exasperated breath and rolled her eyes before she complied.

      Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. “I see you haven’t changed a bit. You’re just as determined and independent as you were when we were married.”

      Her forehead wrinkled as she studied him. That was the same look she’d given him many times in the past when she was trying to figure out the answer to a burning question. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was pondering now.

      The EMTs picked up the stretcher and began the trek up the mountainside to the road, where a new ambulance waited. They’d taken only a few steps when Gwen pushed herself up on her elbows and called out to him, “Dean, will I see you at the hospital?”

      He raised his hand and waved to her. “You can count on it,” he called back.

      She took a deep breath and lay back down on the stretcher. “Good.”

      The word was spoken so softly he wondered if he’d heard her correctly.

      Gwen hated him, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d come to realize what living with an alcoholic must have been like for her. There was no way he could ever make up for the unhappiness he’d caused her, and no way he would allow her to be hurt more in the future.

      She wasn’t safe in this mountain community. A killer had tried twice to kill her and would probably try again. She needed to give up the idea of filming a documentary here and put as much distance between herself and this place as possible. Now all Dean had to do was convince her of it.

      * * *

      Gwen sat on the edge of the exam table in the emergency room, her feet dangling over the side and her cell phone pressed to her ear. For the past ten minutes she’d been talking with her mother and explaining what had happened today. To say that her mom was upset was an understatement.

      She had always been protective of Gwen, more so than most mothers. Gwen had chalked that up to the fact that she was an only child. Since her divorce from Dean, her mother had made it her mission to try to control Gwen’s whole life. Sometimes to the point that Gwen felt she was about to suffocate.

      It wasn’t the fact she’d twice almost been killed today that had her mother so riled up, though. It was Dean’s presence that had unleashed all her mama-bear instincts. “Mom, please,” Gwen said for perhaps the tenth time, “there’s no need for you to get upset.”

      “No need?” her mother practically yelled. “That man made you miserable when you were married. He almost destroyed you. As it is, he’s turned you into somebody who distrusts every man you meet.”

      “Mom, let’s not go there right now.”

      “And why not?”

      Gwen pulled the phone away from her ear and rolled her eyes in frustration. She’d never yelled at her mother but sometimes felt pushed to the limits. With only a curtain covering the opening into the room, she tried to lower her voice so no one could hear her conversation.

      “Because I don’t want to talk about that. I just wanted you to know what happened to me today.”

      She heard her mother’s short intake of breath, and then her voice became gentler. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m upset because you were hurt and threatened, but it’s more than that. You know what’s at stake here.”

      The guilt she’d carried for the past five years surfaced, and Gwen bit down on her lip. “I know. Don’t tell Maggie about this, okay?”

      A loud gasp rippled in Gwen’s ear. “You don’t think I’d tell her that her mother was almost killed, do you? I wouldn’t frighten her like that. I love her. And I certainly wouldn’t tell her that her mother’s now with the father who doesn’t even know she exists. Do you have any idea what that would do to a four-year-old child?”

      “Of course I do, Mom. You don’t have to worry. She’s my main concern, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.”

      “Then keep that in mind. No matter what Dean says, don’t let him worm his way back into your life. Remember how his drinking almost destroyed you. He’ll always be an alcoholic. Don’t let him mislead you into believing any differently.”

      “Mom, please—”

      Her mother interrupted before she could finish her sentence. “Let me remind you that when you made the decision not to tell Dean you were pregnant, you said you never intended to see him again. Now you have, and there’s no telling what he’ll do if he finds out about Maggie.”

      “I know that, Mom,” she whispered.

      “Good. Maybe this is the push you need to rethink your relationship with Rick.”

      Gwen gritted her teeth. “Please don’t bring up Rick today. I’ve told you over and over that we’re just good friends. We work together and enjoy going out every once in a while, but that’s where it ends.”

      Her mother sighed. “I know he cares about you, and he’s a good man. At least you could give him a chance.”

      Gwen closed her eyes and rubbed her hand across them. How many times had she had this conversation with her mother? Lately she’d found her resolve slipping, and sometimes it seemed her life would be simpler if she’d just do as her mother asked and try to think