Page 80 of Fallen

I shake my head. “No idea.”

He speaks into his shoulder mike. “Ten-thirty-five-E.” Major crime alert—shooting. “Suspect at large.”

He runs his flashlight over me. I see recognition in his eyes as he takes in my uniform. “You got a bloody nose.” He reaches into his pocket, passes me a kerchief. “You need an ambulance, Chief?”

I take the kerchief. “No.” Shaking my head in disgust, I look at the wrecked Explorer. “Might need a new car, though.”

He grins. “Roger that.”

It takes fifteen minutes for the wrecker to arrive. The driver is a Volkswagen-size man whose company contracts for the county. He’s confident he’ll be able to pull the Explorer from its muddy nest without the use of a chain saw.

“Went in through all those trees just fine so I ought to be able to pull her out the same way,” he tells me as he hoists his large frame down the incline to attach the winch to the undercarriage.

I’m leaning against the hood of the deputy’s cruiser when Tomasetti pulls up. Driving too fast. Braking a little too abruptly. He’s out of the Tahoe in seconds and striding toward us.

“Kate.” Worry resonates in his voice when he calls out. “Are you hurt?”

Tomasetti is known by most everyone at the sheriff’s office. Even though we’ve been discreet about our relationship, my department is a small one and most of my officers have figured out we’re involved. Most of them know we’re living together. Even so, we do our best to maintain a certain level of professionality. Tonight, it’s not easy.

I don’t remember crossing to him. His body bumps against me with a little too much force. The next thing I know his arms are around me, his frame solid against me. Out of the corner of my eye I see the deputy I’d been talking to turn away, and I sink into the man I love.

“I’m betting that’s the fastest trip you’ve ever made from the farm,” I tell him.

“Record,” he murmurs. “You like to keep a guy on his toes, don’t you?”

I’m shaking, embarrassed because I feel as if I shouldn’t be. Before I can think of an appropriate rejoinder, he pushes me to arm’s length, his eyes running over me; then his gaze latches on to mine. “My radio lit up on the drive down. A shooter?” he says. “What happened?”

I tell him all of it, abbreviating when I can. “Initially, I thought it was a blowout. Bad tire. Whatever. The next thing I know the son of a bitch is coming down the hill and taking potshots at me.”

Tomasetti is a stoic man. He can be a hard man. He’s good at keeping his emotions at bay, especially when it comes to his job. I can tell by the flash of fury that this has hit too close to home. His eyes drift to the opening in the trees where the Explorer sits nose-down at the base of the incline.

“You recognize him?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Too dark.”

He thinks about that a moment. “He say anything?”

“Not a word.”

He nods. “I’ll have the Explorer towed to impound. I’ll get with the CSU and have them process it. See if our shooter left anything behind.”

The next thought that occurs to me sends a shudder through me. “Tomasetti, those tires aren’t very old.”

His eyes narrow on mine. A dozen unspoken theories zing between us.

“This was no road-hazard situation,” I tell him.

“What are you implying exactly?”

I look at him, trying not to appear paranoid or overreactive. “I think he knew I’d be coming this way. He shot out my tire. And then he came down that hill to kill me.”

Tomasetti looks in the direction of the Explorer, where the wrecker is in the process of hauling it from its resting place. “You got a motive in mind?”

I look away, not wanting to say it, knowing I don’t have a choice. “Maybe it has something to do with the Rachael Schwartz case.”

He stares at me, searching my face. I see the wheels turning in his mind. After a moment, he nods. “I’ll get another CSU out here and have them process this entire area.”

CHAPTER 35