Page 55 of Crosshairs

Nate put his notepad away. “Sam is sending me the report on the church incident, and I may have more questions after I read it.”

“You know how to find me,” Ainsley said and stifled a yawn.

“I know Linc is sticking close to you, but I’m also going to assign deputies to cover you. One will be following you home.”

It’s what she would do in his place, but she hated that it was needed. “Thanks. I think I’ll pack it in. Any news on Connie Hanover’s condition?”

“Last report, her condition had been upgraded from critical to serious.”

“Good.” Now if Ainsley could find out who the bullet was meant for.

27

Linc scanned the dark, wooded area. The investigation was winding down for the night, but before darkness set in, Adams County deputies had found where the shooter was standing when the shots were fired. No casings, though, which told something about the shooter. The person was familiar with guns.

Sam shined his flashlight where Linc was digging in the trunk of an oak tree. “Sorry I didn’t make it here sooner, but—”

“No need to apologize. You were doing your job,” Linc said. “Shine the light a little more to the left.”

Sam obliged, and Linc turned back to digging out the chunk of wood with the embedded bullet. Even if the slug was badly damaged, the weight should tell the type of rifle they were dealing with.

Linc clenched his jaw as he stabbed his knife into the tree again, and it yielded his target. If he’d had a gun ... Face it. His gun was on the top shelf of his closet. He jerked a paper bag from his shirt pocket and dropped in the evidence. He handed the bag to Sam.

“It’s all my fault,” Ainsley said.

He hadn’t heard her come up.

“It’s the fault of the madman who pulled the trigger,” Sam said.

She pressed her lips in a thin line. “I should’ve interviewed her inside the trailer.”

“Would’ve, could’ve, should’ves do nothing but make you doubt yourself.” Linc ought to know. He squeezed his hands into fists. Maybe he should see the therapist again. He looked over Ainsley’s shoulder, and his stomach sank.

“What?”

“Sarah Tolliver is what, and she’s fast approaching. If you’re done here, let’s leave.”

Ainsley followed his gaze. “It’s too late.” Lifting her chin, she turned to face Sarah.

“Do you have time to answer a few questions on camera?” the reporter asked, pinning her gaze on Ainsley.

“Sorry. You have questions, you’ll have to ask Sheriff Rawlings. This is his investigation.”

A frown crossed Sarah’s face, but she quickly erased it. “Can you just tell me what happened?”

“No comment.”

“Hannah Dyson is Connie Hanover’s daughter. Is this shooting related to that murder?”

Linc’s patience was stretched as thin as a rubber band about to break, and he shot Sarah a warning glance.

“No comment.” Ainsley crossed her arms.

Linc put a protective hand at Ainsley’s back. “Are you ready to leave?” When she nodded, he turned to Sam. “We’ll touch base in the morning.”

His heart skipped a beat when Ainsley raised her gaze to his. Pain filled her blue eyes. The reporter needed to know when to ease up. When they reached his Tahoe parked under an overhead light, the dark circles under Ainsley’s eyes concerned him. He opened the passenger door.

She glanced toward the firepit. “I feel like I’m abandoning my post.”

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