Chapter Twelve
Dax’s heart nearly stopped at the thought of Jessie being injured. “Where does it hurt?” He prayed her condition wasn’t life threatening. The horror of losing someone he cared about blasted him.
“M-my l-l-leg.” Jessie grabbed her calf, and blood seeped through her pants.
He let out a long held breath. She’d be okay. He’d make sure of it. While the wound would hurt like a bitch for a while, she’d live—unless help didn’t arrive in time. “Hold on. I need to make sure we’re safe before I move you.”
With his gun in hand, he looked out from behind the cruiser but detected no movement nor did he see any vehicle off in the distance. The shooter seemed to have evaporated into thin air just like at the mine.
He returned his attention to helping Jessie.
Amanda peeked her head out from inside the store. “Is it clear?”
“I hope so,” Dax called back to her. “Call 911 and tell them an officer’s down.”
Jessie grabbed his arm. “Have her call Doc. It’ll be f-faster. Harold will have the number.”
He relayed the instructions to Amanda when then disappeared inside.
Dax leaned over Jessie. “I need something to stem the flow of blood.”
She grabbed his arm. “Don’t leave me.”
He didn’t intend to. Carrying her inside would make him a target, but he had to chance it. “Wrap your arm around my neck.”
She did as he asked, and he slipped his arms under her legs. His leg protested as he stood, and as much as he enjoyed holding her, reaching the convenient store in one piece would be a challenge. With Jessie snug in his arms, Dax took off, zigzagging toward the store, ignoring the stabbing in his hip. Their luck held and no more shots were fired.
Once inside, he set her down away from the window. “Stay here. I need to look for medical supplies.”
Harold hurried over. “What do you need?”
“Towels—clean ones—gauze, antiseptic. Anything to take care of a wound until the doctor arrives.” The bullet could have clipped an artery. If Jessie bled to death, he’d never forgive himself.
“I’ll get what I have,” Harold said.
“Hurry.”
Amped up on adrenaline, Dax did a quick check outside to see if he could find the elusive shooter, but the man was a ghost. Just as Dax returned to Jessie’s side, Harold lumbered over with enough supplies to put the Red Cross to shame.
“Here.”
“Thanks. How about standing behind one of the racks and letting me know if you see anyone.” He didn’t need the owner hovering or the shooter planning a sneak attack.
“Will do.”
Dax sorted through the supplies, constantly checking on her, not liking how her pulse was thready and her face pale. “I know you’re hurting, but I need to check your injury.”
Thankfully, Harold had included a pair of scissors. As carefully as he could, Dax sliced open Jessie’s pant leg.
“Damn. That was my last good pair.”
“It can’t be helped.” He snipped the material higher.
Jessie winced. “Ouch, careful.”
“Sorry.” Dax returned his focus to her injury and checked the path of the bullet. “An entry and exit wound. You’re lucky.”
“You call that lucky? I’ve got a gaping hole in my leg.” From the slight humor in her voice, she was trying to keep up her spirits.
Amanda finally rushed over. “I called Doc, and he’s on his way. What can I do?”
“You got a gun?” he asked.
She twisted and showed him the thirty-eight caliber Remington revolver on her hip. “Yup.”
“Given the guy’s been quiet for a while, you up for seeing if he left any trace?”
“Sure thing.”
“Be careful. I don’t need two wounded warriors.”
“I’m good,” she tossed back.
While he counted the minutes until the doctor arrived, he put on latex gloves and held a towel over both of her wounds.
“It stings,” she said wincing.
“I know, but you’ll be up and moving around in a week.” He had no idea how long her recovery would take, but Jessie needed to believe her mobility would return in no time.
She grabbed his arm in a vice grip. “You don’t understand. I don’t have a week. My job is on the line.”
He lifted her hand from his arm, and the blood flow returned to his wrist. “I do understand. And what’s more, if you move, your recovery will take longer. Now relax.”
Amanda traipsed back inside. “I didn’t see anyone or anything.”
Dax looked up at her. “Nothing? You didn’t find an area where the shooter might have been lying in wait?” Then again, she’d only been gone a few minutes.
“Oh. You mean like did I find matted down grass and a spent shell casing?”
“Yes.” Amanda wasn’t being as cooperative as he would have liked, but she might think he was out to take her job. Dax debated searching the area himself, but he didn’t want to leave Jessie, and he doubted Amanda would take good enough care of her.
“If you want me to look again, I guess I can.”
I guess I can? “Please do. Look for broken branches or anything to show how he got here. The man didn’t hover above the ground. All that’s out there is underbrush and tall grasses.”
She popped a bubble. “Back in a sec.”
Jessie moaned, and Dax eased up on the pressure. Harold came over and gave her a bottle of water. “You need fluids.”
She reached up, sucked in a breath, and grabbed the drink. “Thanks.”
While Dax stemmed the flow of blood, she obediently drank her fill. When she was finished, she set the bottle down. “Who do you think shot me? The same person who put out the camera?”
“If we can find the bullet from your wound, we can do a comparison, but the hole in your calf looks like a twenty-two, and the caliber of the ones I took out of my tire and the camera looked closer to a forty-five.”
“Oh.”
“As to who shot you, my money’s on some psycho who has a vendetta against this town, and since you’re the representative, tag you’re it.”
Amanda rushed back, this time having been gone much longer. “Good news. I think I found where the guy came from. I followed the path back to a forest road, and while it was hard to tell how old the tires tracks were, I think the guy must have driven to the edge of the open field and walked in.”
“Good work. Now, I’m wondering how he knew we’d be here.”
Amanda shrugged. “Beat’s me. Can I do anything else for you, Jess?”
Jessie sat up straighter, her breathing more rapid and shallow, which concerned him.
“Since I’ll be out of commission for a bit, how about checking out the grocery store theft,” Jessie said between gritted teeth.
“Sure. What do you know about it?”
She gave Amanda the details.
“I’ll stop by your house later on and let you know what I find.”
Jessie needed her rest. “How about making it tomorrow?” Dax asked. “The store will survive another day without knowing who robbed them.”
Amanda looked offended. “You take care, Jess. Don’t worry about a thing. Little ole Amanda will make sure nobody messes with this town while you’re down and out.” She smiled as though she was happy to be the one in charge.
As soon as the new deputy took off, Doc’s wagon rolled in. Carrying the proverbial black bag, he rushed over. “Jessie Nash. What have you done to yourself now?”
* * *
Staying in bed all day sucked. Jessie wanted to move about, search for clues, bring the bad people to justice, only she couldn’t. To make matters worse, her stupid leg was killing her. Yes, the painkillers Doc prescribed worked wonders, and if she kept still, the ache was quite manageable, but doing nothing was driving her crazy. The only good thing to come of her injury was that Nana seemed to focus on Jessie’s well being and not so much on Sadie’s death.
A knock sounded on her bedroom door—the sweetest sound she’d heard in hours. “Come in.”
Dax stepped in with something wrapped in a napkin. “A birdie told me you loved chocolate chip cookies, and Margaret warmed up a few.”
Jessie smiled. “I just might be able to keep these down, thank you.” The medicine had upset her stomach, and she hadn’t been able to eat lunch or dinner.
“How do you feel about company?”
“Company?” Spending time talking with Dax would be wonderful. “I’d love some.”
“Then you’ll have to make your way downstairs. That guy, Bruno is here. Unless you want him to come up here.”
From his tone, he acted as if the man was a threat, even though she thought she’d made it clear at the bar that she felt nothing for him. Men with lots of body hair and tattoos on every inch of skin did nothing for her.
Thinking of skin, she wondered what a naked Dax would look like. She bet he’d have just the right amount of chest hair and certainly nothing covering his back. He was in the service so he might have a few tattoos, but they’d have meaning if he had them.
“Jessie, are you all right?”
“Yes.” She had to stop daydreaming, but it did help ease the pain. She sat up, placed both feet on the floor, and winced as the blood rushed to the injured area. “You know, for something as small as a little hole, it sure can cause a lot of pain.”
“Don’t I know it.” He looked around. “Where are the crutches Doc gave you?”
“Downstairs. I can’t go up and down using them. I’ll trip and fall.”
He smiled and her insides lit up. “Then I’ll just have to carry you.”
Before she could tell him he’d do no such thing, she was in his strong arms. Too bad, when he’d carried her into the convenience store, she’d been in too much pain and shock to appreciate it.
As he walked across her room, her muscles relaxed. She might as well enjoy the ride and even pretend he was her white knight.
Oh, I’ve read way too many romance novels.
As he stepped through the doorway, Jessie leaned into him, but because she was focusing on how nice it felt to be in his arms and not where he was taking her, her foot banged against the doorframe, sending a sharp, jabbing pain up her calf.
“Ouch. Shit, that hurt.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t really see where I’m going. You’ll need to pay attention for the two of us.” He smiled then slowed down as he carried her to the top of the stairwell. “You know, for a lady, you have a pretty foul mouth.”
No one had dissed her before for swearing. After all, it was the twenty-first century. “It’s a hazard of the job. I’ve had to consider myself one of the guys, and every one of them swears.”
“Doesn’t make it proper.”
Proper, schmoper. “What are you saying?”
“Being feminine isn’t a bad thing, you know.”
He had to be kidding. She’d never been so insulted in her life. Just because she wore baggy pants and shirts a few sizes too large, it didn’t mean she wasn’t a woman.
Oh shit. Had Dax stopped kissing her at the door because he didn’t think she was feminine enough? Amanda had said the same thing, not to mention that Nana harped on her every day to fix herself up. Perhaps she needed to consider some changes—just as soon as she earned the right to be sheriff.
Speaking of being sheriff, both sets of uniforms were now ruined. Wearing jeans would rub against the wound, meaning she might have to wear a dress. She bet that would freak him out. Actually, it might be fun to see if she could get Dax Mitchell to see her more than just a police officer. Of course, if she were successful in attracting him, she’d have to say goodbye all too soon.
Dax’s brows pinched as he took his time going downstairs. She bet his leg was hurting him, but he didn’t complain. Once they arrived in the living room, he set her on the sofa across from her guest.
“Hi, Bruno,” Jessie said.
Nana came bustling out of the kitchen with a tray full of goodies. “Here you all go. It’s so nice of you to stop by and see Jess. She’s been antsy all day.”
Bruno took a brownie and stuffed it into his mouth then moved next to her. Immediately, Jessie scooted back until she hit the sofa’s arm. “Thanks for stopping by. Is Brad handling the bar tonight?”
“Yup. Just like he does every Monday night.”
Could she say, awkward? Men didn’t come calling on her very often, so she was out of practice.
Bruno looked up at Dax. “Mind getting me something to drink, buddy?”
Nana started to rise, but Dax held out his hand. “I’ll get it,” he said. “Jessie, you want something?”
“Hot tea would be wonderful, thank you.”
Nana stood. “I’m going to watch a little TV in my room. I’ll let you young people be alone. Goodnight.”
As soon as Nana left, Bruno scooted closer if that was possible. “What do you know about this Dax Mitchell fellow?” he whispered once Dax disappeared into the kitchen.
“Dax?” Jessie had never heard such a ridiculous question. “What do you mean?”
“Just what it sounds like. The moment the man came into town, the proverbial shit hit the fan—two deaths, two robberies. Come on. Something’s going on. I get vibes when I’m working that all is not right in Kerry.”
Jessie was horrified. “Dax had nothing to do with any of those atrocities. As a matter of fact, I was with him when I was shot, and possibly the same person shot at him!” Thankfully, Dax was making enough noise in the kitchen that he wouldn’t hear them.
“All I’m saying is do your research. Have you checked him out on your law enforcement websites? Isn’t there a way for you to see if he has a criminal record?”
Her pulse sped up as her stomach filled with such unease that she almost vomited. “I can run a check on him, but I promise you, I’ll find nothing.”
“You’ve known the man for what? Less than a week?”
“Yes, but he didn’t just drop in from Mars. Nana hired him.”
“And your grandmother did an in-depth background check, including fingerprints?”
“Keep your voice down. Dax might hear you. You know very well that Nana did no such thing.” She glanced at the kitchen door to make sure Dax wasn’t about to come in. “I’ll toss the same question back at you. Have you done a background check on your new man, Seth?”
His brows rose. “As a matter of fact, I checked all of his references. He’s clean.”
As if the object of their discussion was clairvoyant, he pushed open the kitchen door carrying two cups of hot steaming tea, preventing her from asking anything else about the new hire.
Dax set the drinks on the coffee table but said nothing. His glare told it all. He did not like Bruno being here.
Before either said a word, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Dax said.
A moment later, Amanda breezed in. Gone was the cop uniform, and in its place was something suited for a ski resort—black stretch pants and a fluffy, fleece jacket.
“Jessie, how are you doing?” Amanda rushed over to her.
“As well as can be expected. I’m sore, but I’ll live.”
Amanda looked at Bruno and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Amanda Simmons, Jessie’s new deputy.” Apparently, he was the one man she hadn’t met.
“Bruno Quattrone. I own the Coal Mine Bar.”
“Bruno, darling,” Amanda said. “If you don’t mind, I have police business to discuss with Jess. I know she’ll be off to bed soon, but I wanted to share a few things with her.”
Bruno looked pissed, but he stood and grabbed his jacket. “Remember what I asked you to check?”
“Got it.” He was such a jerk.
Amanda took his place on the sofa and waited until the door closed. “What was his problem?”
“Who knows?”
With Dax standing there, she certainly couldn’t tell Amanda what Bruno had suggested. “What brings you here that couldn’t have waited until morning?”
“Waited until morning, huh? Are we angry I sent little old Bruno away?”
Jessie smiled. “Actually, no, you saved me.”
“Good.” Amanda opened her purse and removed several photos. “After I left the gas station, I wanted to see if I could find any clues to the sheriff’s death, so I took the liberty of checking out his house.”
“You broke into Clinton’s place?”
She looked indignant. “It’s not like I could have asked his permission. Just so you know I didn’t break a window or anything. I know how to pick a lock.”
She’d store that piece of information away for later. Jessie pointed to the pictures. “Okay, so what are those?”
Dax slipped onto the flowered chair across from them and leaned forward.
“I found these in Clinton’s bedside table drawer.” She handed the photos to Jessie. “I think our dear sheriff was killed by the man he was blackmailing.”
Jessie flipped through them and sucked in an audible breath. “I can’t believe this.”