Page 81 of Lana

“Like I just woke up from a bad dream,” she eventually said. Her abdomen ached and she wanted to pull down the blankets to look at whatever wounds she had, but she also didn’t want to see.

“You had surgery last night. It was long and complicated, but you did well. You’re going to be sore for a while, but the doctor said you should make a full recovery. Peter is in prison and Jonathan is in the morgue—they can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

Her jaw dropped open. “What happened to Jonathan?”

“He tried to flee. We chased him through the woods until his car hit a tree. Rather than surrender, he tried to shoot me, so I shot him first.”

Her pulse spiked. “Were you hurt?”

He smiled. “No, I’m fine.”

The dark bruising on his jaw and multiple cuts and scrapes on his skin suggested otherwise, but she knew what he meant. Her first thought was to tell him to go home and get some rest, but she didn’t want him to leave just yet.

She squeezed his hand. “Well done, Sheriff.”

A smile lit up his face. “I can’t take all the credit. We’ll need to get a statement from you in a few days once you’re well enough.”

She nodded. “Can I be there when Peter is interviewed? Or at least watch the recordings?” She knew it was an odd request, but she needed answers. She needed to know why he’d done the things he had, why he’d murdered her sister and the other women. She needed to get inside his mind and create a profile that would hopefully answers her questions and also give police some guidance on future serial-killer cases—because there would be more. There always were.

“I’ll get you access to the recordings,” he said with a nod.

“Thank you,” she said, satisfied.

He gave her a small smile. “I was terrified, Zoe. I thought I’d lost you.”

Her eyes welled and she swallowed hard. Her stoic composure was cracking. She’d forgotten what it was like to have someone care for her, to worry about her. She was also emotional due to the trauma and all the drugs she’d been given during surgery, but she chose to focus on the warm feeling of having someone actively caring for and about her.

“You know what’s funny? Well, not really funny, but you know what I mean... In my darkest hour I called out to a God I’d all but written off... praying for you, or an officer, or anyone to find me—to stop Peter and Jonathan. I thought I’d lost my faith in God, but perhaps you were right. Perhaps we get to know him at the bottom.”

Mitch gave her that boyish, charming smile and squeezed her hand. “When you’re talking to God, please tell him to not give me a heart attack the next time he wants to bring you closer to him.”

She chuckled and, as her abdomen flared with searing pain, immediately regretted it. She grimaced and Mitch looked pained. “Don’t laugh,” he said, shaking his head with a gentle smile.

“So you’ll be coming to church this Sunday?” he asked lightheartedly.

She grinned. “Probably not, but I might open the Bible and have a browse through... see what jumps out at me. I think that’s a good enough start.”

Mitch nodded. “It sounds good to me.”

She looked around the room, the urge to flee the hospital suddenly strong. Every time she’d been in a hospital over the past few years was to visit the morgue or her parents as they’d been dying, unable to be revived. She wanted to go home.

“Do you think they’ll let me out today?” she asked, biting her lip.

Mitch chuckled. “Doubtful.”

“You’re the sheriff. Please do something about this,” she joked.

“The sheriff, not the doctor. You’re staying here for a few days yet, I assume. Dr. Roberts is due to check in on you”—his eyes dropped to his watch—“in an hour or so.”

“He did the surgery?” she asked.

Mitch nodded. “It was good timing that he was on duty. He’s the best surgeon in the local area.”

Zoe looked over him again. “Have you been sitting here all night?”

“Most of it. I had to take care of a few things at the station, but otherwise I’ve been here. I didn’t want you to wake up alone,” he said with eyes that seemed to look into her battered soul.

“Thank you,” she said, squeezing his hand. Mitch Shaw was a good man. Her late husband would approve of him. She felt the prickle in her eyes before they welled.

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