Page 9 of Caught in the Crossfire

Dawn gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth.

Shock held Nicole immobile for a moment. “You can’t be serious. I thought you liked him.”

“I do. However, he is capable of violence.”

Because Mason had been in prison. The spike of temper burgeoning in her gut intensified Nicole’s headache. The assumption was unfair. Mason had paid for one error in judgment with thirteen years of his life. Why wouldn’t people take him at face value? “Mason didn’t hurt me, Doc, and never would. It wasn’t Mason.”

“Did you get a good look at the man who hit you?”

Nicole scowled. She wanted to say yes and couldn’t. “I only caught a glimpse of a man wearing a black ski mask before he struck me.”

“What about you, Dawn? Is it possible the assailant you saw was Mason?”

“I think the man who ran into me was taller than Mase, but it happened so fast I can’t be sure. He was still wearing a ski mask when he raced from the house.”

“The masked man wasn’t Mason,” Nicole insisted. How could anyone think the man she adored was guilty of hurting her and killing Riva? What possible motive could he have for either act?

She forced herself to focus despite the pain in her head and thought through the events in the bedroom when she’d discovered Riva. Nicole knew the assailant wasn’t Mason. Was it simply gut instinct or something she could prove?

A memory popped to the forefront of her mind. “Spice,” she blurted out. When Dr. Anderson’s white eyebrow rose, Nicole’s cheeks burned. “I smelled a spicy cologne a second before the man hit me.”

“You’re sure the scent wasn’t one of Riva’s perfumes?” Dawn asked.

“Positive. It’s a cologne some of our male customers wear. Mason doesn’t wear cologne because all perfumes and colognes give me a headache. I told you it wasn’t Mason, Doc.”

Anderson patted her arm. “I’m sorry for distressing you, my dear. I have to ask these questions. It’s my duty to report abuse. I’ve seen injuries like yours that were the result of an assault by friends or family. No matter how often Mason says he loves you, he’s still capable of losing his temper and striking out in a fit of rage. If Mason hurt you, would you tell me?”

Nicole smiled. “If he hit me, you’d be treating him, too. I won’t let a man use me as a punching bag.”

“Good for you.” Another pat on her arm. “I’ll return in a moment.”

When the door closed, Nicole growled. “Why do people persist in thinking the worst of Mason? He’s a good man who would take a bullet for me.” He’d already taken a bullet protecting Rio’s wife.

“People know he’s been in prison, Nic. That’s a hard environment to survive without scars.”

Oh, Mason had scars. He just hid them from public view and endured the continual stares and whispers behind his back. “The man in Riva’s house wasn’t Mason.” The man she planned to marry soon wasn’t guilty of something so heinous.

“I know one thing. I wouldn’t want Rod Kelter or Ethan Blackhawk on my trail. Whoever is guilty had better watch their backs. Those policemen are relentless. They won’t give up until they have their man.”

Anderson returned. “All right, my dear. Let’s numb your scalp and stitch you up. Once I examine Dawn, we’ll talk about your treatment plan.”

Nicole frowned. Surely Dr. Anderson would release her tonight. She just needed an ice pack and over-the-counter pain reliever.

The next thirty minutes weren’t ones Nicole wanted to repeat anytime soon. Once Dr. Anderson stitched her cut, Nicole turned her narrowed gaze toward Dawn as she climbed off the exam table. “Your turn.”

Her employee held up her hands, shaking her head. “I just have a scratch and a few bruises. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re already here.” The doctor patted the table and motioned for the groomer to climb up. “If you’re correct, you’ll be out of here in ten minutes.”

With a scowl at Nicole, Dawn climbed on the table and answered all the doctor’s questions. When he finished his exam and agreed with her assessment, she asked, “Are we free to leave now, Dr. Anderson?”

“You are. I want to keep you overnight, Nicole. Head injuries can be tricky.”

Oh, no. Her stomach turned a nasty flip. “Aww, come on, Doc. I have to be at the grooming salon early tomorrow morning. We have dogs arriving at 7:00 a.m. I’m fine.”

“You have ten stitches and will need pain medicine once the lidocaine wears off.” He pointed at her. “You also have a headache.”

She huffed out a breath. “How did you know?” Nicole muttered.

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