Page 29 of Trapped with the Covert Ops Soldier

“You feeling okay?”

“Yep, no lasting effects from yesterday’s shooting.”

“Good. Shall we?” he asked, his gaze lingering on her receptionist and the one or two patients who hadn’t left yet. “Where’s Smitty?”

“He said he had a couple of errands to run. He’ll catch up to us when he’s finished.”

The Sheriff nodded and she followed him out and down the street. He didn’t say anything else until after they’d sat down and been served their coffees, but even then she had to pry it out of him.

“So,” she began. “Tell me about the bullet that damn near took my head off my shoulders.”

“.50 caliber, match-grade round.”

“It’s not something a hunter would use, is it?”

“No. It’s something a police or military sniper would use.”

“A sniper?”

“Yep.”

“Did you find where he was when he took the shot?”

“No, we’re trying to find the spot based on trajectory, but there’s an entire street full of buildings he could have used. We’ve done a quick look, but haven’t found any evidence yet. We’re going to start over after lunch, go more slowly.”

She shook her head. “Why would anyone want to shoot me? I’m broke and I’ve been out of the country for more than three years until a few months ago.”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Did something happen in Syria? Did you make any enemies?”

She shook her head. “Things happened, but not the enemy making kind.”

“Did someone make a pass at you that you had to rebuff?”

“Rebuff? You sound like Watson from the Sherlock Holmes books. I had to explain things a little harshly for one guy to understand I wasn’t interested, but he died from an IED six months later. No one else got close enough to me to be a bother.”

‘What do you mean no one else got close enough to you?”

“A couple of months in, Smitty and a few other guys like him were assigned to our unit. We were a mobile medical unit that set up shop wherever and whenever any specific missions were being run.”

“He’s really not a paramedic or something like that?”

“No. Don’t get me wrong, he has advanced first aid training, all of the men who had an assignment like his did, but his job was to keep us medical types safe.”

“So, what is he?”

“I’m not supposed to say.”

The Sheriff rolled his eyes. “Abby.”

“Excuse me? You hired him to babysit me and you don’t know this already?”

“I thought he was in your unit, and I didn’t hire him, the mayor did.”

“He was assigned to my unit.”

When she didn’t add anything else, he sighed and said, “I thought he was medical support or something. For Christ’s sake, just tell me.”

“Can you keep this to yourself?”

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