Page 35 of Only the Hunter

I agree, though the car looks drivable. But I don’t want a shard in my eye if I’m wrong.

The nagging suspicion won’t leave me: was I the target?

They shot the liquor store too—cover, maybe. Making it look random. But if someone knew I was here. If someone knew I was meeting Daniel…

Was the goal to scare me? Or were they actually trying to kill me?

I perch on the curb while the officers photograph bullet holes and collect evidence. My phone buzzes.

Shonda

Rebecca’s looking for you.

Of course she is.

Shonda

Are you at the courthouse?

I don’t answer. How do I explain this? Sorry, can’t make the afternoon meeting—someone just shot at me outside a federal surveillance location.

My phone lights up again. Michael Harridan. Calling, not texting.

I let it ring.

While viewing his name on the screen, a familiar SUV pulls into the parking lot.

The timing shouldn’t surprise me. Yesterday I would’ve been furious—security is a sore point with me, thanks to my father. I don’t need another overbearing man in my life. But after surviving a spray of bullets, I can’t pretend there isn’t something disarming about a friendly, familiar face showing up exactly where I need one.

That doesn’t mean I’m ready to live my life with someone shadowing my every move. It just means today isn’t the day to fight about it.

Gabe parks and is out of the car before the engine’s off.

“I’m not going to ask how you knew,” is all I say.

“Are you okay?” He looks to the officer for an answer.

“I’m fine,” I say. “But you just saved me the cost of a lift.” That wins his attention back to me. “What’re you doing here?”

A tow truck, with a cartoon caricature of a tow truck painted on the side door, pulls up, and I sidestep Gabe to get the driver’s attention, pointing in the direction of my rental.

“What car is that?” Gabe asks.

“A rental,” I answer with a sharp bite.

I’m not actually angry at Gabriel. I’m just tired.

And if I’m honest, unnerved. The police officers haven’t asked what I do for a living. The liquor store owner has taken up most of their time. An armed robbery occurred at this location over a month ago, and he’s worried it will happen again.

The assumption by all parties seems to be joy riders. The bullets shot in my direction just chance. Just like the bullet shot at the liquor store.

After I conclude my brief chat with the tow truck driver, Gabe leaves the officer and strides across the street to join me.

“Did you tell them you’re with the DOJ?”

Gabe’s question diverts my attention from watching the tow truck driver hooking up my rental.

“They didn’t ask.”