Page 100 of Counter Attack

She detected sadness in his voice and searched for something to say. “Don’t get rid of too much. I might need some of those case histories.”

“Really?”

“You bet. If I were sheriff, I’d hire you as a consultant as soon as you were feeling up to it.”

“There would be no money in your budget for that,” he said dryly as he stood and slowly walked to the door.

“Then you can volunteer. Did you finish reading over the files on the Chattanooga murders that I printed out for you?”

He sighed. “Afraid not. I start reading and everything blurs. Just not up to much yet.”

“You’ll get there. Where’s your walker?”

“Graduated.”

“Really? Does Gram know?”

“She’s my wife, not my warden.”

Alex linked her arm in his, more to keep him steady than anything else. “It’s your funeral.”

“Hmph. That’s hardly the thing to say to someone who had one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel a month ago.”

“You know what I mean.”

He sighed. “Yeah. The walker is just inside our bedroom.”

“Good. Hold on a sec and I’ll get it.” She stepped insidethe bedroom and rolled the walker out. It was similar to Ms. Mattie’s only the handles were much higher. She handed it off to him. “When did you get this one?”

“They delivered Fancy Dancy yesterday. At least I don’t have to bend over to push it.”

“Fancy Dancy?”

“Got to call it something.”

She laughed, contentment settling on her again. She’d been really worried about him, but anyone who could grumble like this and name his walker was going to be okay. Voices reached them as they neared the kitchen. Kayla had arrived.

Gramps turned to Alex. “Who’s that?”

“A friend I want you to meet. She’s the one who saved my life the night I was shot.”

“Good. I want to thank her, then I have some questions for your rescuer.”

She cocked her head. “I don’t understand. Why?”

He smiled patiently. “From what I understand, this Kayla being there was a coincidence, and you know how I feel about that. There’s—”

“No such thing as a coincidence,” Alex finished for him. “But this time there is—her tire light came on. Come meet her and you’ll see.”

She pushed the kitchen door open and then stood to the side and let her grandfather roll his fancy walker in first.

“There you are,” Gram said. “Carson, this is Kayla.”

He rolled close enough to extend his hand. “I want to thank you for what you did.”

A blush rose in Kayla’s face as she took his hand. “I didn’t do much.”

“But you did. Most people would have run the other way. Where did you learn martial arts?”

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