Page 17 of One Final Target

The frown eased, but she kept looking at him. The mom face came, the expression that said,“No matter what, you’re still my baby.”“We can. And will you let me pray for you?”

Sam swallowed. His mom was a prayer warrior, something he also thought was important at one time. But since Rick’s death, he felt as though his prayers had been bouncing off the ceiling. He still believed—his faith got him through rehab—but always in the background was the question why Rick and not him. Was his mother right? Did he have to be in thefield to prove something—maybe that he deserved to live? Sam shook the thought away. He wrestled with somany why questions for God, sometimes he thought his middle name should be Jacob.

“Sure,” he said, setting his coffee cup in the sink and walking to retrieve his workbag. “Better get going so I’m not late.”

She’d prayed, asking the Lord to watch over Sam, keep him safe, and help him heal. Sam bowed his head and said amen when she did, but his heart wasn’t in it, and he wondered if it ever would be again.

He pushed the conversation to the back of his mind when he reached the homicide office.

“Hey, Sam, good to have you back.” Detective Smiley stood when Sam entered. He smiled and gripped Sam’s hand in both of his, then gave him a quick hug, patting him on the shoulder. Smiley always reminded Sam of a basset hound, jowly cheeks with soulful eyes. Appearances were deceiving. Smiley was a bulldog when it came to working a case.

“I’m glad you decided to re-up. Especially after what happened yesterday.”

“No choice. This is my career. I’m not ready to give it up.”

Smiley squeezed his hand one more time before letting it go, gave him a nod, and pointed toward an empty desk. “Yours,” he said as he checked out the scars. It didn’t bother Sam; he was used to it. Everyone’s eyes seemed drawn to the scars. Since ears were cartilage, and his right one had partially melted, it had been reshaped with skin grafts. Sound was a little muffled in the right ear now.

Sam set his bag on the desk, pausing before unpacking his stuff. “Want me to fill you in on yesterday?”

“You bet. Sorry I couldn’t make it up there. My mother-in-law was in the ER for a bit.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she just doesn’t manage her diabetes very well.” He gave a wave of his hand. “I’ve read all the reports. You and Deputy Takano did a good job. But it boggles the mind what you wandered into up there.”

“Yeah, it does,” Sam agreed. He told Smiley everything, even repeating what he was sure the boss had read in reports. He also included his and Jodie’s conclusion about all of this being personal, directed at her and her alone.

Smiley nodded. “How is King?”

“She seemed okay, considering she was a target. She might have been shaken up a bit.” He shrugged. “She wants to find the bad guy. This could be the lead we needed to find a hot trail.”

“I agree. It surprises me, though.”

“What does?”

“This killer just about committed the perfect crime. He’s gone, we ran out of leads, yet he tries again.” He rubbed his chin, pensive. “King have any ideas about who might still be after her?”

Sam shook his head. “Any more information on the shooter?” He didn’t think there was and was happily surprised when Smiley nodded.

“I just got a call from dispatch as I was coming to work; a patrol unit found the Honda. It was dumped at the bottom of the hill.”

“Seriously? Anyone see it get dumped?”

Smiley held his hand out flat and tilted it back and forth. “Still asking around. There’s a lot of evidence to be processed. I’ve got uniformed officers sitting on it.”

“Was it stolen from the ski area?”

“No, it was stolen yesterday morning from San Bernadino, not far from where it was dumped. The reporting party found it gone around six in the morning.”

“The ATV?”

“Stolen from the ski area. It belonged to the maintenance detail. The rifle wasn’t located, but there was a full clip for an AR-15 in the ATV. It had dropped down and wedged between the seat and the back cargo area. A lot of the evidence on the ridge was contaminated by snow, so the clip might be our best hope for prints. Might be a couple of days before we get anything concrete. I’d like to talk to Logan, but we might not be able to for a while.”

“Has he been able to talk at all?”

“Once stable, they took him into surgery to repair his jaw. Not sure when he’ll be able to speak. One or two people from Snow Valley offered vague descriptions of the guy speeding away in a white Honda with a green driver’s door. Generic male white in a ball cap.”

“What can we do now?”

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