Page 59 of Whispers of You
What else was I supposed to do? I wasn’t leaving, and hovering behind Wren’s desk seemed like a piss-poor decision. “Needed to work some stuff out. Tell me what happened.”
Lawson and Nash shared a look.
“Tell me,” I growled.
Lawson sighed. “They think Albert Peterson will make it. Had to be airlifted to Seattle, but he made it through surgery.”
A little of the tightness in my chest subsided. “Any suspects?”
Nash shook his head. “Not yet. Shot came through the window into the kitchen. I doubt he ever saw it coming.”
“Footprints?”
“No,” Lawson said. “Came from the woods behind the house. There’s a layer of pine needles an inch thick.”
“You search for other trace? Fibers. Skin.”
Lawson arched a brow. “I look like a probationary officer to you?”
I let out a huff of air. “Sorry.”
Nash waved me off. “We get it. This is a whole other level of messed-up.”
I took a pull from the water bottle. “The wife have any insights? Enemies? Threats?”
“He’s a high school science teacher. Not exactly a member of the Russian mob,” Nash muttered.
My gaze narrowed on him. “Peterson made some enemies before, and he probably didn’t even know it. All it took was a couple of bad science grades.”
“That was different,” Lawson said.
The muscle along my jaw fluttered. “You have to look at every angle.”
“And we will. But I don’t want to set this community into a panic if I don’t have to,” Lawson shot back. “We are talking to neighbors, coworkers, students. If someone had it out for him, we’ll find them. But his house butts up to the forest. It’s possible this was simply a stray bullet from a hunter.”
My gut wasn’t so sure about that, but I nodded. “Okay.”
“Gonna give in just like that and let big brother do his job?” Nash asked with mock shock.
I gave him a shove. “Screw off.”
Nash cracked his neck. “Oh, I’d like to do exactly that, but I’m not off for another three hours.”
I grabbed my T-shirt and pulled it over my head. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
When life got serious, Nash did anything to distract himself from the feelings. Raced his motorcycle. Went BASE jumping off a mountain. Got blind, stinking drunk in the name of fun.
Nash’s eyes twinkled. “Who, me?”
Lawson glared at him. “You get arrested, and I’m not doing a damn thing to pull you out of trouble.”
Nash patted his shoulder. “You’ve made that abundantly clear, boss man.”
“I gotta grab a shower. Will you let me know if there are any updates?”
Lawson’s mouth pressed into a firm line, but then he sighed. “Fine.”
I met his gaze, making sure he understood the gravity of what I was asking. “Thank you.”
