Page 91 of Her Wild Coast Promise

The pain in my hip digs hard, and I brace against the side of my desk. The room spins for a moment.

All of the volunteers are watching the screen. I’m too far away to hear the first question, but the crowd rings out a loud “oooooo” so I’m not sure I would have heard much anyways.

Maybe I need some air. I weave through the crowd, and one of the volunteers gives me a concerned look.

“Be right back,” I mouth.

Her jubilant expression pales. “You okay?”

A bullet of nausea shoots up my throat but I shake my head, as if it can vaporize this malady. “No. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m coming with you.”

I don’t have the energy to argue with her, so I continue to the door, my smile frozen on my face. At the exit, I hurry into the dark hallway and break into a run. The pain in my hip pulses hotter with each lurching step. With a hard shove with my hands, I punch through the door. Outside, the air is blissfully cool, but I’m so shaky and hot than I barely make it to the weeds before I hurl.

“Whoa, Cora,” the volunteer says, catching up just in time to see me clutching my middle and wheezing in pain.

“Something’s wrong,” I say as the pain burns hot and hard.

“No shit,” she says, looping her arm under mine to support me walking in the direction of the parked cars. “Maybe it’s time to call it a day.”

A very bad feeling washes over me as I realize something I missed. Something that might be very bad. “I think it’s time to call an ambulance.”

ChapterTwenty-Six

SETH

Hunter callsme as I’m leaving the newsroom. “Nice job, sheriff.”

Relief floods me, making my knees feel like noodles. The debate—my last big public appearance in this marathon—is over. I don’t even care how it went. Though from the elation in Hunter’s voice, it must have gone okay.

“How’s the investigation going?” I ask him.

“Everything’s unraveling. Walsh confessed to both arsons. We’re working him to give up Katovich. Stoll lawyered up, but we’ll get him for the sex crimes, pimping, and Vander’s murder.”

“Did we get any trace DNA match?”

“No,” Hunter says with a disappointed huff. “I think Katovich is our guy, or someone else in the organization.”

“This is good work, brother.”

“Yeah,” he says. “We’re close to busting this whole thing wide open. Now go home and get some rest. You’ve been up for what, thirty-two hours?”

I laugh. “Something like that.”

I don’t remind him to watch over things and to alert me if our investigations progress because he already knows, and I thank him one last time.

“Welcome. Maybe that campaign manager of yours could use a night off too?”

My gut warms at the thought of finally seeing Cora again. “That’s what I was thinking too.”

The minute I get in my rig, I dial Cora’s number, but she doesn’t pick up.

Even though the volunteer HQ is ten minutes away, I want to hear her voice now, before entering the frenzy of volunteers, mostly to thank her, because without her running my election campaign, there’s no way I would have been able to stay focused on my job. The gravity of what we’ve built together sinks in.

Though I had my doubts about being the best choice for the next sheriff, the past few days of payoff has made me feel differently.

I should feel on top of the world. Or at least full of optimism about the election. The polls show me leading by a landslide. Barring some disaster, I’m going to win this.

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