Page 90 of Crosshairs

“Afraid not.” The crime scene tech snapped from another angle. “I googled this model. It’s only been around a couple of years. Folds up enough to fit in something as small as that backpack you’re holding.”

Linc glanced down. “You’re kidding.”

“Afraid not. These foldable models are going to make police work a whole lot harder, especially for those trying to stop terrorists.”

“Think you’ll be able to trace it?”

“If it could be traced to the shooter, he wouldn’t have left it behind. Probably got it off the dark web.”

Linc agreed. But to leave a gun like this behind meant the assailant didn’t care what it cost to take Ainsley out. “You said you googled it—what does a gun like this cost?”

“Stripped down like this one? Twelve, fifteen hundred.”

That was a lot to leave behind. He and Ainsley needed toexplore other people who might have it in for her, people who had access to the dark web and had that kind of money. Linc slung Sarah’s backpack onto his shoulder and left the deputy to his picture-taking.

He crossed the lawn to the ambulance, where J.R. was talking to Sarah. “If you need anything at all,” J.R. was saying, “just let me know.”

“I’m fine, really, Mr. Beaumont.”

“Call me J.R.,” he said, and then turned to Linc. “I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Linc said.

“You saved Ainsley’s life. If you hadn’t assessed the situation and acted so quickly, the outcome might have been a lot different.”

Linc started to shake his head, and Sarah put her hand on his arm, stopping him. “Just accept the man’s thanks,” she said. “You’re a hero.”

He definitely was no hero, but for the sake of ending this conversation, he dipped his head. “I’m glad Ainsley wasn’t hurt any worse than she was.”

J.R. nodded to Sarah, then turned and shook Linc’s hand. “I have a few other guests I need to reassure, but thanks again.” He turned and walked away, avoiding the stage, where Ainsley and Pete were in a deep conversation.

“You want me to take that off your hands?”

Sarah’s voice startled him, and he realized he still had her backpack on his shoulder. “Not necessary. You want me to take it to your car?” he asked.

“Would you mind? And thanks for getting it. I don’t think I could’ve climbed those stairs.”

“Maybe we should drop you off at your house on our way home,” he said.

“No. I’m good to drive,” she said. “Wouldn’t want to horn in on your date.” Her voice held a tremor.

“If you’re sure...”

She glanced toward Ainsley. “I’m sure. Are we still on for Wednesday?”

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll bring the food.”

“No. I’ll take care of the food,” she said. “It’ll be a chance for me to show you how well I can cook.”

He grinned at her. “You don’t cook for a picnic—just throw sandwiches together.”

“Spoken like a man. Now I know I’ll take care of the food,” she said, returning his grin with a megawatt smile that reached her eyes.

His chest tightened as vulnerability and something he couldn’t put his finger on replaced the haunted look in her face. He’d meant to be careful with his words around her so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea. Linc wasn’t sure how to fix it. “I’m looking forward to spending the time with you and your dad.”

“We’re looking forward to it too. If you’ll help me down, I’m ready to leave.”

“You sure you feel up to driving?” Linc asked.

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