Page 33 of Fatal Witness

Nine years of experiences and people she’d known and loved. And trusted. Had the killer been one of those people? Was thatwhy someone was shooting at her tonight? Couldn’t be. No one knew she was here. So there had to be another explanation.

A stone settled in her stomach. She was flying blind ... but at least she could trust Mark Lassiter—he was too young to have been involved in the murders.

Where was he anyway?

16

The light from the rising moon cast eerie shadows as Mark crept through the woods to where he’d seen the muzzle flash.

Nothing moved, and even the tree frogs had fallen silent. He wished he’d brought Gem now, but he hadn’t wanted to take a chance that whoever was shooting might hit the dog.

Questions bombarded Mark. Why was someone shooting at this woman anyway? Who was she? And what was she doing at Mae’s house?

Something rustled behind him, and he jerked around. A hard blow to his head sent him reeling. Moonlight glinted off steel.Gun!Mark stumbled back, fighting to stay conscious.

He blinked. A growling dark mop lunged at the assailant and latched on to his arm. The assailant screamed.

“Lizi! Release!”

The dog released its hold. The attacker turned toward the direction of the voice and shifted his gun to his left hand.

The woman hadn’t stayed put. Mark couldn’t let the man hurt her, and he lifted his gun. The assailant pivoted and ran toward the road. Mark sank to his knees, still fighting the darkness.

Gentle hands grabbed him. “You’re hurt!”

“No ... I’m ... fine.” If someone would only get rid of the jackhammer pounding in his head. “Give me a minute.”

The woman straightened. “I hear a car engine. Do you think he’s leaving?”

Mark hoped so since he was in no condition to fight the assailant off again. “Probably. Figure he got a good look at me—maybe he recognized me and backed off.”

“Can I call someone?”

Backup. He needed to call Alex. “Call my boss. Tell her we’re at Mae Richmond’s.”

“I’ll need your phone—mine doesn’t work here for some reason.”

The pain in his head was easing slightly. “I think I can do it.”

Mark pulled his phone off his belt and stared at the blurry screen—make that two screens. He blinked, but his eyes wouldn’t focus. Wincing, he handed the phone to the woman. “I’m seeing double—look for Alex Stone. She’s the chief deputy.”

He cradled his head in his hands while she made the call.

“Um, this is Dani Collins ... I’m at Mae Richmond’s house with one of your deputies. He’s been injured.”

“Put it on speaker,” Mark said, and she punched the screen.

“Do I need to send an ambulance?” Alex was asking.

“No,” he said.

“Mark? Is that you? What happened?”

“A car went past my place, and I thought Mae’s intruder might be returning so I came to check it out. Then there were shots, and I ran into the butt of a gun.”

“Do you have a concussion?”

“No. Just a bad head—”

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