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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Bobby had intended to drive from his office to the hospital then changed his mind. He walked through the orange and yellow flowers crowding the plaza, running his hand along the big yellow trumpet-like blossoms of the Esperanza. He stopped to study the tiny, reddish-orange trumpets of the firecracker plant, his intrusion irritating the hummingbirds and butterflies. He'd never noticed all this.
The June sun felt good on his skin. He rolled his long sleeves up his thick forearms as he made his way through the red-brick plaza. He was bareheaded. He'd left his hat on the coffee table at April's house.
At the hospital entrance, a woman handed him another mask. He took it but he didn't put it on. At the lobby visitors' desk, he asked to see Tillie Tomlin. He wanted to see her one last time. She was in Intensive Care. Still, only immediate family was allowed in. So, he walked to the hospital gift shop, paying for flowers to be sent to her room. Nobody had demanded he don the mask.
As he walked out, Amos entered the hospital lobby. Bobby approached. "I'm not here to fight. I came to see Tillie and apologize to you. I thought you might be here."
Amos's surprise was apparent behind the mask, his brows high.
Bobby smiled and shrugged his wide shoulders, his arms outstretched. "You called it. I showed my ass. I'd still like to see her when I can, though."
"They won't let anyone up there yet. Margie and Terry are on their way. She's in an induced coma."
"Will she be all right?" Bobby asked.
"She should be. I've got a guard on her room."
Bobby's smile faded. "Why?"
"To protect her. He didn't try to rape or rob her, Bobby. He went to her studio specifically to kill her. We don't know why. Don't know if someone else might try."
Bobby's scalp tightened, remembering April's freeze the night before. His cheeks burned.
"Can we talk outside?" Amos asked.
Bobby nodded and they walked through the hospital lobby together. Outside, he stopped, facing Amos. "What is it?"
Amos removed his mask, inhaling deeply. "There's reason to believe the man who did this to Tillie may have killed John David."
Blood rushed to Bobby's head, pulsing through his neck. "Hector Aldonado killed John David."
"I'm beginning to think he did not."
"What the—?"
"Hear me out." Amos held up his big hand. "The guy hit her in the back of her head, knocked her out, and was about to cut her throat when Mendocino shot him. That's exactly what happened to John David, and you know it."
Blinding light flashed and Bobby was back at the line camp. He didn't hear Amos for seeing John David's disfigured body. He turned his back to the deputy, scanning the cloudless sky, his ears ringing. Everything was still. Bobby lifted his shoulder, wiping sweat beading on his forehead onto his upper arm.
