Page 56 of Her Only Hero

“Go nowhere alone. Don’t go back to your apartment. Your address is visible on public listings. If someone wants to find you, you’ll be a sitting duck. And finally,alwayscarry your weapon.”

“Weapon?”

“Yes, the one you chose, and the one I’m going to show you how to shoot.” He reached beside the sofa and picked up a black plastic case the size of a lunch box. He dialed a combination and opened it. Inside sat the revolver I had chosen. The seriousnessof this case climbed tenfold. The most frightening part of this mystery was the uncertainty of how it would end.

“Want to try a few rounds before it gets dark?”

“Okay,” I said, although there was no “okay” about any of this.

He picked up the revolver. “As you know, guns always have to be treated like they’re loaded.”

He cocked it to check it and looked down the barrel.

“The barrel’s clear. Here on the side is the safety switch. And of course, you know where the trigger is. Never hold the gun with your finger on the trigger. That’s how accidents happen.”

He handed me the cold, heavy weapon, which felt surreal in my hand. I practiced loading the bullets. Patrick guided my hands to show me the proper technique. He handled the weapon expertly, smoothly, professionally. After familiarizing myself with the firearm, we went to the rear of the property. About five yards away, there was a poster of a human silhouette on a wooden board.

Patrick released the safety. Arms straight ahead, he pointed at the target, anchored his shooting hand with the other one, and pulled the trigger. Bam. He shot the figure in the head.

“Wow, you’re good,” I said.

He chuckled.

My turn. I stood with my feet shoulder width apart. Patrick helped position my arms as I aimed. I steadied my hands as much as I could and fired. The gun’s kickback surprised me, and more surprisingly, I had hit the target’s shoulder. Adrenaline surged through my veins.

“Great shot,” Patrick said. “You’ve disabled your target. Try again.”

I fired six more rounds and emptied the cylinder. I lowered the gun and pointed it at the ground. My arms shook from the “workout.”

“You hit the target with every shot, and the final round struck a kill zone. You’re a natural, June.”

“Nah. I’m just standing close to the human target thing.”

“You did good, babe.”

“Thanks, but—” I struggled to articulate my fear and trepidation. The gun in my hand wouldn’t allow me to minimize the seriousness of the situation any longer. I’d just traded in my pepper spray for a lethal weapon. Even if I was in danger, would I be able to bring myself to shoot someone?

“How about we wrap it up for the day?”

“Sounds good,” I said with immense relief. I ensured the cylinder and barrel were empty and handed it back to Patrick.

Patrick repeated the safety check. “I want you to carry that at all times,” he said.

His intense eyes scared me.

Was this case more dire than I thought?

Or was there something he knew he wasn’t telling me?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The chime of Patrick’s cell phone startled me from a sound sleep. He answered it before the second ring, and I fumbled around for my phone to see what time it was. Eleven thirty p.m.

“Hello,” he said. “Matt. What’s happening?”

I stayed still as Patrick listened.

“When? Right now?” Patrick said. “I’ll check it out.”

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