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  “Noah Hostetler is a patient here. He had an appointment, but he was late. He’s never late.” She hurried on, a concerned wrinkle forming on her brow. “Please, Sergeant Jackson. Noah has a wife. Naomi. And children. She won’t know what’s happened.”

  “I’ll make sure she’s notified, ASAP.” Gavin shifted the clipboard he was holding. With his thumb, he clicked the pen in his hand several times. He hated standing still. “His driver said the van had slid off the road. They needed to be pulled out of the ditch, which got them running late.”

  “I wondered,” she whispered. “If he’d been here on time, he would have been fine.”

  “You can’t know that,” Gavin said, even though he thought she was right. It did no good to dwell on what might have happened. It couldn’t be changed. No matter how much he wished it could.

  Alexa sighed. It was a small sound, but it contained a wealth of hurt and confusion. “I just don’t understand why anyone would shoot at him. He’s a young father. A husband. His wife makes the best cookies.”

  He blinked at the last comment. “It is possible that the shooter wasn’t specifically targeting Mr. Hostetler. It could have been random. Maybe someone had a grudge against the clinic. It’s fairly new, right?”

  “Yes.” She drew out the word slowly. “I have only been here for a few months. But it was opened within the past two years. The doctor who started it wanted a clinic that those who lived too far from the hospital and those in the Amish community could visit.”

  Gavin talked with the pretty nurse for another few moments before moving on. No one seemed to have noticed anything. The doctor on call had been in the back room doing his dictation. Two of the nurses were out sick. The patients were a mixture of townspeople and Amish, mostly elderly or children with their mothers.

  “Jackson!”

  Hearing his name called, he turned and moved to where Parker was motioning to him. “What’s up?”

  Sergeant Ryan Parker smiled, a slight lifting of the right corner of his mouth. Gavin knew his buddy well enough to know that the smile was practically an announcement that he’d found something important.

  “I just got off the phone with the hospital. The man who was shot?” Gavin motioned for him to continue. “Well, he said something in the ambulance about catching a brief glance of a man with a gun as he was falling. Not a clear glance, mind you. But maybe we’ll be able to glean enough from his statement to get a real lead.”

  That sounded promising. He wasn’t going to get his hopes up, though. If the man hadn’t gotten a good look, well, it might not help at all. It wasn’t as if a man would stand out carrying a gun during hunting season in Pennsylvania.

  “How’s he doing? Our victim?”

  Parker shrugged. “I’m not sure. He was being prepped for surgery. The person I talked with did feel that it was a good sign that he was conscious and thinking clearly. His wife has been contacted and is being brought to the hospital. We should know more later on today.”

  “Did you get the scene on your body cam?”

  Parker gave him a thumbs-up. “Done. I already sent it to the station. We can go through it there. See if anything stands out.”

  “Okay. I guess we’re done here then. Meet you back at the station.”

  Parker smiled and departed. Gavin zipped up his coat. He hesitated before leaving. Surely that nurse, Miss Grant, would appreciate hearing that her patient was still alive. Before he could talk himself out of it, he walked over to her. She was talking to the men who were covering the broken window with plastic. When she saw him, she halted her conversation and moved away from them.

  “Sergeant?”

  “Jackson. Or Gavin.” Now why had he said that? It wasn’t like they needed to be on a first-name basis. And besides, very few people called him Gavin. Okay, make that three people called him Gavin. His mom, dad and his brother.

  But Gavin hadn’t talked to his brother since Sam had betrayed him in the worst possible way.

  Get it together, Jackson. He’d promised himself after Sam and Lacey’s betrayal that he’d never let himself be humiliated that way again. His parents were concerned that he’d wind up alone. Well, maybe he’d be alone, but at least he’d know that he was living his life on his terms. That no one was taking advantage of him.

  So why was he inviting a complete stranger to call him by his first name? He’d always hated his name.

  She smiled briefly. It was a very tired smile. “Gavin, then. I’m Alexa.”

  He changed his mind. He liked the way his name sounded when she said it. He really needed to focus.

  Touching her lightly on the elbow, he pointed to an area away from the others in the room. Alexa seemed to understand. She led him behind the receptionist’s counter. Turning to face him, she raised an eyebrow and waited.

  “I know you were worried about Noah Hostetler. I wanted to let you know that he made it to the hospital. He’s going into surgery, but he was conscious and alert. His wife is on the way to join him.”

  “Oh!” Her blue-gray eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Thank you so much for letting me know. I was worried about him.”

  He reached out and patted her shoulder. It was an awkward movement. Her eyes widened, and she jerked back slightly, flushed. He dropped his arm instantly, feeling like an idiot. What was he thinking? He had never been the touchy-feely type. It just wasn’t his style. He’d blame it on exhaustion. His shift was supposed to have ended two hours ago, but between the accident and now this shooting, he would be on the job for at least two more hours before he could head home and sleep.

  “Hey, Alexa, what is this? It looks like you had a delivery,” the receptionist said.

  Something flashed in her eyes before she averted them. Was it embarrassment? Fear? Whatever it was, she didn’t look happy to be receiving a delivery. In fact, she looked downright annoyed about it. She looked at the box the receptionist, Megan, pointed to with a scowl. Something was going on here. Although, it really was none of his business. The flowers were probably from an ex. He glanced at her left hand. No rings. Not even an indentation. So she probably wasn’t married or recently divorced.

  “When did that get here?”

  “I don’t know. I just saw it sitting here.”

  “Miss Grant!” A man in a doctor’s coat strode up to them, scowling. “Haven’t I asked you not to get your deliveries here? This is a medical facility!”

  “Yes, Dr. Quinton. I’m sorry, but I have no idea who’s sending them.”

  Well, that was interesting.

  The doctor wasn’t appeased. “Tell the florist to stop making deliveries here then.”

  “Yes, Dr. Quinton. I told the florist that. Last week. This is from a different florist. One from out of town.”

  The man huffed. “See that it doesn’t happen again.” He turned abruptly and left. Alexa tossed the narrow box on the counter. It bounced, and the lid fell off. A single red rose dropped onto the countertop. A note was in the box. She picked it up. The color drained from Alexa’s face. Concerned, Gavin stepped forward and grabbed the note from her shaking hand.

  “It’s your fault he’s dead. You’re mine. Don’t forget it again.”

  Copyright © 2018 by Dana Roae

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