Page 11 of Counter Attack

Nathan nodded. “You got him, Alexis. The Queen’s Gambit Killer.”

“Are you certain?”

“The zip ties were like the ones used to restrain the other women. He had the pawn with him ... evidently, you were his next victim.”

Alex let the words sink in. She’d taken out a serial killer. Why didn’t that make her feel better?

Her grandfather planted himself beside her bed. “You know from the last time this happened, you’ll need therapy, and thatwill help. But like before, you’ll have to learn to deal with the shooting.”

Gramps always could tell what she was thinking, and he probably knew exactly what she was feeling. As sheriff, her grandfather had been forced to kill two people that she knew of, one in self-defense and the other to keep a child from being stabbed. “The police department has a psychologist—”

He shook his head. “When you’re released from the hospital, you’ll be coming home.”

Go home to Pearl Springs? No. She loved her life in Chattanooga ... well, at leastlikedit. Living in a big city hadn’t been exactly what she’d thought it would be. But tucking tail and running home...

After a sharp rap on the door, it swung open and an older man with a clipboard and a stethoscope hanging around his neck entered and glanced around the room before he approached the bed.

“Well, how’s my patient doing?”

“You tell me.”

He stared at her for a long minute, then his lips curved into a smile. “Fair enough. I’m Dr. Moore, the surgeon who removed the bullet lodged between two of your ribs.” He looked at the clipboard. “While the projectile missed your major organs, its path perforated your lung, causing a pneumothorax. That’s why there’s a thoracic catheter inserted into the pleural space on your right side. It drains—”

“Whoa.” Alex held up her hand, and the doctor paused and peered at her over his glasses. “Could you say that again, in English?”

“Sorry. I just came from dictating my notes on your case. Plain and simple—the bullet punctured your lung, and air escaped into the space between it and the chest wall, causingthe lobe to collapse. The tube lessens the pressure and allows the lung to reinflate.”

“Thank you. How long will I be here?”

“It depends on how long it takes your lung to return to normal, but barring complications, I’d say you’re looking at five to seven days.”

She processed the information. “And after that, when can I return to work?”

“Every case is different—it’ll depend on how fast you heal.”

Her grandfather cleared his throat. “Don’t forget, you returned fire and the man died, so I imagine it’ll be up to your department’s psychologist when they’ll clear you for work.”

That could take months, especially since this was the second time she’d had to use deadly force. Both times were in self-defense, but that didn’t mitigate the fact that someone died. She still had nightmares from being forced to kill a man two and a half years ago. Some cops never recovered from taking a life. To this day she didn’t know why the man she killed raised an unloaded gun and pointed it at her. She’d fired, hitting him in the center of his chest.

And now it’d happened again—except this time the gun pointing at her had been loaded.

9

Aweek later, Nathan waited for the nurse to bring Alexis down to the drive-thru for him to pick her up. He’d been surprised that she’d asked him, but he was glad to do it.

In between following up on the information his confidential informant had given him, he’d managed to visit her at least every other day. The days he hadn’t come, he’d talked to her on the phone.

His heart rate spiked when she was wheeled through the doors.Don’t go there.Even so, he couldn’t help noticing the way her dark red hair shone. The aide must have helped her shampoo it. He couldn’t stop himself from jumping out and setting a small stool on the pavement so it would be easier for her to get into his truck. The smile she gave him reminded Nathan of years ago when things were different.

“Thanks for doing this. Gram didn’t want me to ask Gramps. Something about him not feeling up to par. And she doesn’t drive in Chattanooga.”

“Glad to do it.” He handed her a small pillow to put between her shoulder and the seat belt before he fastened it. A clean floral scent teased his senses.

“After you take me by my house to pick up a few things, would you mind making one more stop at a cemetery?”

“Not at all. Anyone I know?”

She shook her head. “Rebecca Daniels.”

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