Page 12 of Caught in the Crossfire

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you?”

That question reminded her of Dr. Anderson’s inquiry. She frowned. “You would never hurt me.”

Mason’s brows knit. “What’s wrong?”

Before she could answer his question, a soft tap sounded on the door and Trent peered inside. “Ethan and Rod are here. You up to talking to them?”

Could she get by with saying no? Nicole sighed. That was a coward’s way out. She had to answer Rod’s questions. Any information might make the difference between the killer escaping justice or growing old in jail. Hopefully, Matt would arrive soon with the patch. She’d heard Trent mention several times how well the patch worked. She hoped he was right. “How far out is Matt?”

“Five minutes. I can stall the cops until he arrives.”

“Hey,” Rod protested from the hall. “Every second counts. I need as much information as Nicole and Dawn can give me.”

Trent waited for Nicole to decide. She knew without a doubt that he would keep them out of the room at her request. She couldn’t do that to him or the policemen.

“Send them in.”

Her brother-in-law moved aside to allow the Otter Creek law enforcement officers to enter the room, then returned to his watch position.

“What did the doctor say about you?” Ethan asked.

“Ten stitches and I’ll live, although at the moment I’m beginning to wonder if Dr. Anderson is right. The headache and nausea are winning the battle.” Hope Ethan and Rod didn’t mind an episode of puking.

“We wouldn’t be here unless we needed every detail.” Rod pulled out a notebook and pen. “Tell me everything you can remember.”

Nicole ran through everything again. “I wish I could remember more, but everything happened so fast.”

“What can you tell me about the man who hit you?”

“He wore a black ski mask. His clothes were black, too. And he wore gloves.” Joy. No fingerprints.

“Eye color?” Ethan asked.

She closed her eyes and replayed the second her gaze had connected with the killer’s. “Brown.”

“Did you see any part of his skin? Perhaps around his eyes or his hands.”

“Yeah. He was Caucasian.”

“You’re doing great, Nicole,” Rod said. “What about his height and weight?”

“I don’t know. I was on my knees beside Riva.”

“Guess.”

Nicole swallowed a few more sips of the drink and prayed Matt arrived soon. She really didn’t want to barf in front of Mason or the tough policemen. “Taller than Mason.”

“As tall as Ethan?”

Her gaze shifted to the police chief. She shook her head and immediately wished she hadn’t. “Maybe your height, Rod.”

“Any characteristics that stand out?”

She started to say no, then remembered the cologne. “He wore spicy cologne.”

Another tap on the door. This time, Matt entered. Nicole breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness.

“I hear you need a patch.”

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