Page 81 of Rangers Last Promise

I don’t look away.

“I’m asking now.”

Something passes between us.

Quiet.

Fragile.

Real.

Sheriff Tate clears his throat.

“I hate to interrupt whatever this is becoming, but we still have an armed fugitive somewhere in my county.”

Mara steps away from me.

Too quickly.

The absence of her warmth leaves my skin cold.

“What do we know?” she asks.

Deputy Collins has joined us at the table. He opens a notebook.

“Roadblocks are in place on Highway Thirty-Seven and the county roads. We found the second motorcycle abandoned about six miles east of town.”

“Hampton changed vehicles again,” Mara says.

“Looks that way.”

“Blood?”

“Some on the handlebars. Nothing after that.”

“He planned medical supplies,” I say.

Everyone looks at me.

“If Hampton knew he might have to fight his way out, he would have prepared for an injury. Bandages. Hemostatic gauze. Maybe antibiotics.”

“You think he treated the wound himself?” Tate asks.

“I would.”

Mara gives me a look.

“You are not our standard for normal behavior.”

“Fair.”

Trigger snorts.

Sheriff Tate points toward him. “You should be at the hospital.”

“So should Doc.”

“I don't need a hospital.”