Page 57 of Silent Prey

The nurse standing next to him huffed in disapproval before leaving the room, leaving a few choice words as she did so. "Don’t blame me when you pass out, Mr. Mercer."

Finn shrugged, his gaze never leaving Sheila. "Some risks are worth taking."

Sheila shook her head, but she didn't protest when Finn eased himself into the chair next to her bed, grimacing slightly as he shifted his injured leg.

For a moment, they sat in silence. Outside the window, the sun was just beginning to dawn on a new day. Sheila knew she ought to have been exhausted, but she was still too anxious to hear what was going on—not just about Finn and Beverly, but about the killer as well—to consider sleep.

“How’s the leg?” she asked.

"Hurts like hell," Finn said. His voice was void of self-pity, though—a simple statement of fact. "But the docs say there’s no permanent damage, fortunately."

Sheila nodded, grateful for this piece of news. “And Beverly? Have you seen her?”

Finn cleared his throat, taking a moment to find the words. "She's a tough one," he admitted, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. "Still in shock, I think. But physically, she's okay. Only minor injuries."

Sheila let out a small sigh of relief at that. Beverly might have been the latest victim, but at least she was alive. And if Finn was right—if she was as tough as he was saying—then she had a good chance of getting through this, psychologically as well as physically.

"And the man who attacked her?" Sheila asked.

“Alive, believe it or not. It’s a miracle he didn’t bleed out after those three gunshots. He’s a resilient one—for better or worse.”

“Were you able to discover his identity? Do you know his name?”

Finn nodded, frowning as he recalled the details. "Arthur Jennings. Apparently, he's from Wyoming, where he lived in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with his mother. No father in the picture. Some months back, his mom passed away—aneurysm, no foul play—and Arthur started traveling. Stalked a waitress and ended up killing a cop instead. Then, as far as I can figure, he just kept driving till he ended up here. Decided to make Antelope Island his home."

Sheila nodded. It made sense, given what she knew about Jennings and what he’d told her while she was hanging upside down in his trap.

“Listen,” Finn said, staring hard at the floor, “when you left me at the hunting cabin—”

“I’m so sorry about that,” Sheila said quickly. “You could’ve died.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. You did the right thing.” He paused, gathering his words. “But all I could think about was what I would do if something happened to you. Then Beverly came back by herself, and she didn’t know where you were…”

The scene played out in Sheila’s mind. She recalled how Beverly had rushed on ahead of her toward the cabin, moments before she—Sheila—had stepped into a trap that wrapped around her leg and jerked her into the air, where she’d struck her head against a tree and blacked out.

Finn was watching her. “If we hadn’t found you, if you hadn’t come back at all…” He swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t be able to do this any more. I’d quit, go be a hermit somewhere up in the mountains or something.”

Sheila glanced away, unsure how to respond. "Finn…"

"No, just listen. I care about you, Sheila—a lot. And I don't want to pretend otherwise."

"I don't want you falling for me just because you feel bad for me. I'll be okay."

Finn stared at her, shocked. "Is that what you think? That I'm just pitying you because of what happened to Natalie?"

She looked at him. "Isn't that at least part of it?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "We both cared about your sister, so I admit that seeing your pain makes me feel a…a connection with you. But it's not because I'm pitying you. You think I'd want to date someone just to make them feel better?"

Sheila shrugged, smiling a little at the ridiculousness of the idea. "I'm sure it's been done before."

"By idiots."

Sheila laughed. Seeing her reaction, Finn smiled with relief.

Then Sheila grew more serious. "I just…I don't know. We're coworkers. Won't it just complicate our working relationship?"

Finn grunted. "It's already complicated."

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