Page 18 of Secret Stalker

Dillon shrugged. “As a newbie, you take what you can get.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

Dillon shrugged again. But Max knew he was right, that their team leader wouldn’t try to give Max’s ruined vest to the rookie. Dillon might be playing hardball right now with Blake, but he didn’t play dirty.

Max rested his hands on the countertop as he looked at Dillon in the mirror. “Speaking of Blake—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. The chief is going to be ticked. But, honestly, this time I completely forgot about the guy. It didn’t even occur to me to include him on the callout.”

Max laughed.

Dillon frowned. “It’s not funny. I’m going to get a thirty-minute lecture out of this. I probably won’t hear right for a week after the chief yells at me.”

Max grabbed a washcloth from the neat stack in the open shelving above the toilet. “Yeah, well. Maybe that will ensure that you remember next time.” He wet and soaped up the cloth to scrub the sink.

“Oh, sorry,” a feminine voice said. “I didn’t know you were still changing.”

Max turned around to see Bex backing up from the doorway, a handful of fresh washcloths and towels in her hands. Dillon melted back into the shadows of the hallway, leaving the two of them alone.

“Don’t go,” Max said. “You can put those up in here. Sorry about the mess I’m making.” He plopped the washcloth into the sink and moved back so she could enter the small room.

She hesitated, her gaze falling to his chest, before she cleared her throat and looked away. “No problem. Are you kidding? You saved my life. Again. Make all the messes you want. I didn’t remember whether I had enough towels still in here, with all the packing I did. Looks like there are plenty. I’ll just put these back in the box—”

“Bex, wait.” When she still turned to leave, he added, “Please.”

She froze, then turned back toward him, a foot back from the doorway. “Was there something else you needed?”

He let out a deep sigh. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” She absently stroked her fingertips across the bandage on her left forearm. “Like I said, you saved my life. Thank you. That sounds so inadequate. But...thank you.”

He braced his hands on the door frame on either side of her. “It can’t be easy having someone try to kill you twice in one day. Especially with the two events appearing unrelated.”

“Appearing? You think there’s a chance that they are related?”

“I didn’t say that. Just reserving judgment until we investigate.”

“But the shooter, Marcia, she wasn’t at the grocery store this morning.”

“No. She wasn’t.”

“Did she say why she tried to shoot me?”

“She collapsed after I cuffed her. They took her to Blount Memorial in Maryville. Probably won’t get to interview her until tomorrow. Assuming she doesn’t lawyer up by then.”

She seemed to ponder that for a moment, biting her lip as she considered all the possibilities.

“Don’t think too hard on it,” he said. “That’s my job. I’ll figure this out. Your job is to be careful, stay alert.”

“Because someone else might try to kill me today?”

The bitterness and underlying fear in her voice had him automatically reaching for her, wanting to comfort her. But she hurriedly backed up before he could touch her.

He dropped his hand to his side and smiled as if it didn’t matter. Because it shouldn’t. What the hell had he been thinking to reach for her? Had he really expected that she’d want his touch? She was the one who’d left. She was the one who’d been gone for ten years. If she wanted anything to do with him, she knew where to find him. And she hadn’t come back even once. She hadn’t called, texted, sent a freaking email. Clearly, that horse had galloped away years ago, never to return. The sooner he got that through his thick skull, the better off he’d be.

“You can’t drive home tonight with your windshield blown out. I’ll ask the chief to assign someone to watch over you until your car is fixed. They can—”

“Follow me around? How long would it take your boss to tell them to haul me to the station like he’s wanted all along? Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want police protection. I’ll take my chances on my own.”

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