How do you survive being shot and left for dead in the Chihuahuan Desert? By being found by a beautiful wildlife photographer willing to risk her life to save yours.
A bitter ex-cop fights for his life after he runs to the sound of gunfire on the Ri...
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Word of Tillie's assault spread across Brewster County like wildfire through dry cedar.
Bobby was in his office when his private line rang. He knew the number. The same hospital employee who'd tipped him about Mendocino months earlier. "Someone tried to kill Tillie Tomlin."
Bobby flinched. His chest tightened. "Tillie?" He stood. "What do you mean someone tried to kill her?" He stared at the ceiling.
"Pretty simple statement, man. You pay me to keep you updated. I'm letting you know. I think she's in surgery. The guy who did it—he's in surgery too."
Bobby hung up the phone, his face and mind blank. He walked across the hall to his father's office, entering without knocking.
Hank startled and stood from behind his desk. "What is it?"
"Someone tried to kill Tillie. I'm going to the hospital."
"Why?" Hank said.
"I don't know." Bobby's eyes were frozen wide. "I can't think why anyone would hurt Tillie."
"Well, I hope she's all right. But why are you running to the hospital? Didn't you say she's got a new boyfriend?"
"Oh, leave it alone, Pops. I'm letting you know I'm going to the hospital."
"You've never gotten her out of your system!" Hank called after him as he left.
It was faster to run across a landscaped, red-brick plaza between the two buildings than to find his Land Rover and drive.
At the emergency room lobby, Bobby was stopped at the door. "You can't enter without a mask." A masked woman handed him one.
He stared at it, shook his head, and put it on, walking to the registration desk. "Bobby Watson. Here to see Tillie Tomlin."
He looked around impatiently.
The desk attendant, a bright-eyed young woman with pink-streaked hair, a diamond nose ring, and a colorful butterfly tattoo on her long neck, checked her computer. Her cloth mask was pink with blue butterflies. Her eyes moved from the monitor to Bobby, who was leaning over her counter looking at her computer monitor. "Ms. Tomlin is being treated, sir."
He glanced around the room. "So, I hear. Where can I wait?"
She drew back. "Why, here, sir. This is the waiting area."
Bobby shoved off the counter, his quick movement startling the clerk. "Get whoever is in charge. Tell them Bobby Watson wants to go to surgery waiting."
She stood frozen.
"Go on." Bobby nodded at her. "Get whoever is in charge."
The girl walked away, he presumed into an interior office and returned. "My supervisor will be right here."
