Page 17 of The Sniper

I tapped it.

He answered on the second ring, his voice a low rumble of authority and warmth, just like always. “Hallie Mae? Everything all right?”

My throat went tight. “Not really.”

There was a pause. Long enough for him to sit up, probably push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, shift forward on that old plaid recliner in the parsonage living room.

“What happened?” he asked.

“There was ... there was an incident at Grace House tonight.”

“What kind of incident?”

“Someone broke in.”

Silence.

“With a gun,” I added. “He was looking for his wife. She and their little girl were staying at the shelter. I—I got everyone out into the courtyard. But he followed. Held us at gunpoint.”

“Sweet Jesus.”

“He’s dead now.”

Another silence.

“Police said it was a sniper. Took the shot from a rooftop.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked quickly. “Did he touch you?”

“No. No, Daddy. I’m all right. Really. Just shaken.”

I heard him blow out a long, controlled breath through his nose. “You’re sure?”

“I promise.”

I paused, biting the inside of my cheek. “They want me to come give a statement at the station. Tonight.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“I figured you’d say that.”

He let out a low grunt that could’ve meant I love you or I told you so—with Daddy, sometimes they meant the same thing.

“I’ll get in the car right now,” he said. “Where do I need to go?”

“It’s the Mount Pleasant Police Department. On Ann Edwards Lane, just past Town Hall.”

“I know it.”

“You don’t have to?—”

“Of course, I do,” he cut in. “You think I’m gonna let my baby girl go down there alone after something like this? I’ll be there in two hours, Lord willing and no highway patrol—though that’s pushin’ it, comin’ all the way from Estill.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “Tell Mama I said hi.”

“She’s already praying,” he said. “I didn’t even have to tell her. She just looked at me and went straight to her knees.”

That made my eyes sting. “Tell her thank you.”

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