“Chris, get over here. You’re coming with us,” Dillon called out.
Chris was standing with Randy at the wheel of the police boat. He gave Randy a puzzled look then hurried to the speedboat and got in.
“What are you doing?” Chris asked.
“Getting the shooter’s main target out of here. Once we get back to the bridge to Cooper’s Bluff, you’ll need to stay with the boat to wait for the coroner to pick up our dead friend here. I’ll drive Miss Parrish back to town to get her medical attention.”
Max put his cell phone away. “State police are on the way. And Chief Massey offered to send reinforcements if you need them.”
“Good to know. Thanks, Max. Get back on the other boat. You guys get to shore and hunker down in the woods until the state police get here. If our guy’s got some dry weapons stashed nearby, he’ll start taking shots again. I don’t want you in the middle of the river when he does.”
Max frowned with obvious disappointment. “We don’t need to wait. If the shooter’s in those woods, Randy and I can find him.”
“Wait for backup. That’s an order.”
Max gave him a curt nod and joined Randy.
Dillon restarted the engine, and turned the speedboat back toward the bridge.
* * *
W
HEN
D
ILLON
CARRIED
Ashley into the one-story offices of the Destiny Police Department, it only took a quick turn of her head to get the layout of the entire police station. One unisex bathroom to her left. Fifteen cheap laminate desks lined up in three rows in the middle of the rectangular room. A snack machine and tiny kitchenette on the right beside a door labeled Chief of Police, William Thornton. And along the back wall, two currently unoccupied cells with floor-to-ceiling iron bars.
Take away the computers and phones, sprinkle in a few cowboy hats, and the place could be the setting of an old TV Western.
“I’m sure I can walk,” she whispered, feeling silly in his arms as he strode past the handful of police officers working at their desks.
“Doesn’t mean you should.” When he reached the first jail cell, he hooked one of the nearby desk chairs with his foot and dragged it over, then carefully set Ashley on the chair. “Give me a sec.”
He crossed to a small cabinet built into the wall and unlocked it, then pulled out a big brass key.
Ashley watched in stunned amazement as he used the key to unlock the first cell and swung the door open.
He caught her watching him and raised a brow. “What?”
“You do realize what century we’re in, right? You don’t have electronic locks on the cells?”
He smiled and tossed the key in the air, easily catching it. “The city council wouldn’t approve more than a cheap, used fishing boat for the police department. Do you really think they’d approve an expensive electronic locking system for our jail?”
She shrugged and eyed the cell. “Please tell me you’re not thinking about locking me in there.”
“You need to be protected. Makes sense to lock you up, don’t you think?”
“I’m going home.” She shot up out of her chair but immediately fell back to sitting when pain shot through her feet.
Dillon crouched down in front of her and took her hand in his. “That was a really bad joke. I promise I’m not going to lock you up. However, the cot in the cell is the most comfortable place with your feet the way they are. I figured you could lie down and elevate your feet while I call Doc Brookes. He still makes house calls and the nearest hospital is a long drive from here.”
She bit her lip in indecision. “Promise you won’t lock the door?”
He crossed his heart. “Scout’s honor.”
“All right then. Putting my feet up does sound good. I guess you get to carry me one more time.”
He squeezed her hand and let go. “Trust me. Carrying you is not a burden.”
He scooped her up before she could think too hard about that comment. She couldn’t imagine he’d meant it the way it sounded, as if he was flirting with her. Because after being in a rainstorm, spending all night in a cave and wearing the same muddy, dirty clothes without being able to even wash her face, there was nothing about her that could be even remotely attractive.
He propped her feet up on a pillow and pulled a blanket over her. “I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, please. Do you have a phone I can use? You said Lauren called nine-one-one last night because she was worried about me. I need to let her know I’m okay. Preferably before she calls my family and gets them worried and they descend en masse on Destiny and get all in my business.”
He grinned. “Big, nosy family, huh?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“My phone is at the bottom of the river somewhere, but I’ll get you one. Give me a minute.”
While he headed over to a young policewoman sitting at a desk by the window, Ashley self-consciously finger combed her hair. Dillon perched on the edge of the desk and several officers came over to talk to him. Even without a shirt, wearing nothing but his bullet-resistant vest, wrinkled dress pants and boots, he still looked amazing. Ashley was suddenly longing for a hot shower, some fresh clothes and her makeup bag.
If Lauren could see her now, she’d accuse Ashley of being in lust with Dillon, and she would probably be right. She had a lot of other things she should be worrying about instead of drooling over the tall, dark and handsome man who’d been a part of her life for less than twenty-four hours. In all likelihood, once her feet were finally taken care of, he’d probably take her statement and send her on her way. She’d likely never see him again, unless he caught a suspect and needed her to testify or something. One thing was for sure, as soon as she could she was leaving Destiny way behind in her rearview mirror, never to pass this way again.
No matter how sexy Detective Dillon Gray was.
Dillon brought a cell phone and let Ashley make a quick call, reassuring her friend everything was okay. As usual, Lauren’s melodramatic streak made the call take much longer than Ashley wanted, particularly when Dillon was waiting. But at least Lauren hadn’t called her family yet, and Ashley was again able to talk her out of cutting her cruise short. She hung up and gave the phone back to Dillon.
“Thank you.”
“Disaster averted?” he teased.
“Just barely.”
He motioned back toward the squad room. The policewoman he’d spoken to earlier headed over. At the same time, the main door opened on the far end of the room and Detective Chris Downing stepped inside.
“Ashley Parrish,” Dillon said when the policewoman stepped into the cell, “this is Officer Donna Waters.”
“Pleasure,” Donna said, shaking Ashley’s hand.
“Donna’s going to go to your house and pack you a bag so you can change into fresh clothes. I’ll leave you two here to discuss what you need. I’m still trying to locate Doc Brookes.”
He headed back to one of the desks and grabbed the phone. Chris stopped beside him and spoke to him while Dillon dialed the number.
“So,” Donna said, drawing Ashley’s attention to her. “Looks like you’re going to be our prisoner until we catch whoever’s after you.”
Ashley blinked in surprise. “Dillon... I mean, Detective Gray said he wasn’t going to lock me up in here. Scout’s honor.”
Donna burst out laughing. “Dillon was never a scout. Trust me on that. Honestly, I assumed he was going to keep you here for your own protection. Maybe he’s got other plans.” She pulled a small notebook and pen from her front shirt pocket. “Now, tell me exactly what you want from your house and I’ll be happy to get it. I’ve already got the address. Since I don’t see a purse with you, I’m assuming you don’t have your keys. Is there a spare somewhere?”
“My landlord has a key. He lives a few miles down from my house, Mr. Hartley.”
“I know him. No problem. I’ll stop there first. Now, worst case, assuming you may not be able to go home for a few days, what all do you need?”
* * *
D
ILLON
HUNG
UP
the phone and shot Chris an irritated glance. “Doc Brookes isn’t answering his cell. His assistant said he’s probably out of range, up in the foothills seeing some patient. And from what Donna told me a few minutes ago, there are trees and power lines down all over Destiny. It’ll take hours to get her to a hospital.”
Chris grinned. “No reason she should wait.” He clapped Dillon on the shoulder. “Not when we’ve got our own doctor.” He headed toward the cell.
“Chris, get your butt back here,” Dillon ordered, but Chris ignored him and hurried into the cell.
Dillon chased after him, hoping to head off a disaster.
“Miss Parrish, good to see you again,” Chris said. “Looks like with the storm and all, we’re down to only one doctor anywhere nearby who can take care of you.”
Dillon strode into the cell and aimed a murderous glare at Chris.
“And here he is,” Chris announced, waving toward Dillon.
Donna coughed as if she was trying not to laugh.
Ashley stared up at Dillon, her eyes wide with surprise. “You’re a doctor?”
“No,” Dillon said.
“Yes,” Donna and Chris both said at the same time.
“Knock it off,” Dillon ordered. “Miss Parrish, I did go to medical school, but not the kind of—”
“I’ll get your bag,” Chris announced. “I assume it’s in the Jeep? You never go anywhere without it.” He hurried out of the cell, steering well clear of Dillon’s reach.
“Now everything makes sense,” Ashley said. “You seemed to know what you were doing when you wrapped my cuts last night.”
He closed his eyes and prayed for patience.
Donna laughed. “He’s definitely good at doctoring. Did his schooling in Nashville.”
He opened his eyes again and glared at her, not that it did any good.
“Really?” Ashley asked. “That’s where I’m from. Did you go to TSU? I graduated from there.”
“As a matter of fact, yes, I went to Tennessee State University. I’m trying to explain that I’m not—”
“He graduated with honors,” Donna chimed in again.
“Here we go.” Chris ran into the cell carrying a small black duffel bag. He set it beside the cot. “Go ahead, Dr. Gray. Fix her feet.”
Dillon pointed to the cell door. “Out. Both of you. Now.”
Donna patted Ashley’s hand. “Don’t you worry. I’ll get what you need and be back in no time.”
She and Chris hurried out of the cell, apparently deciding retreat was a good idea.
Dillon glared after them, then dragged the chair from outside the cell and settled it in front of the cot. He plopped down and tried to tamp down his anger before saying anything. Ashley looked completely confused, not that he could blame her.
“Detective—”
“Dillon.”
“Right, sorry. What was all that about? What’s going on? Are you really a doctor?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m not. That was Chris and Donna’s idea of a joke. Unfortunately, Chris was right about one thing. There’s no one around who can take care of you right now. I’m going to have to drive you to Blount Memorial in Maryville. Normally that would be a forty-minute drive, but with the storm damage, it’s going to probably take closer to three hours. Do you want to leave now, or wait for Donna to get back with fresh clothes? There’s a shower in the bathroom in the chief’s office. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind—”
She put her hand on his. Awareness shot through him, surprising him. He glanced up at her.
“Dillon,” she said. “My feet hurt. A lot. If there’s something you can do to help me, I’d really appreciate it. I don’t relish the idea of driving for three hours with my feet throbbing if you can make me feel better right now. What were your friends teasing about, exactly? Did you not really graduate? Did you drop out early from TSU?”
He shook his head. “No. I graduated. But I did drop out of the University of Tennessee. I went there for my postgraduate studies.”
A look of relief flashed across her face. “I don’t care if you ended up with an official piece of paper or not. You had four years plus of training. Surely you can handle a few stitches and some fresh bandages. What’s in the bag? I hope you have something stronger than Advil in there.” She reached down and grabbed the bag.
Dillon rose out of his chair to stop her, but she’d already unzipped the bag before he could. Her eyes widened in horror.
“You’re a veterinarian?”
Somewhere out in the squad room, Chris howled with laughter.
Dillon dropped his forehead in his hands and prayed for patience. The sound of feminine laughter had him jerking his head back up.
Ashley’s eyes danced with amusement. “Oh, come on. I figured out you studied veterinary medicine the minute Chris ran in here with that bag and made such a show out of calling you
doctor.
Plus, I went to TSU. I’m well aware they have a veterinary premed program there.”
He shook his head. “You could have clued me in earlier.”
“I was having too much fun. So what do you do, carry your bag around to take care of stray dogs and cats?”
“More like horses.”
Her brows rose. “Horses. Cool.” She looked in the bag. “Looks to me like you’ve got everything you could possibly need to sew a few stitches and bandage me up. I refuse to take any horse tranquilizers, so you’re going to have to give me some of the strongest human medicine you can find in this office, or find a bottle of whiskey so I can get drunk first.”
He dragged the bag toward him and pulled out a small jar. “If you don’t mind the smell, I promise this numbing cream will work wonders. You won’t feel a thing while I stitch you up.”
“It can’t smell worse than I probably already smell right now. Let’s do this.”
* * *
D
AMN
BLOODHOUNDS
.
Luther would have been fine if it wasn’t for the stupid dogs. He could have lain low in the woods until the local yokels gave up looking for him. Then he would have tracked down that detective to find out where he’d taken Parrish. But someone had called the state police to join the search, and sent in tracking dogs—probably the same nosy detective. Now he was forced to hightail it out of town in one of the cars he’d stashed for just such an emergency, which meant it would take that much longer to get the job done and put Hicktown, Tennessee, in his rearview mirror.