In A Killer's Sights

Pert was the word he and her friends had used to describe her back then. He wondered if she was still that sassy girl he’d loved or if the years had jaded her as they had him.

Eight years ago she’d been an assistant to the news staff at WLMT radio in Oxford, a town near Nashville. He’d been a police officer then. He remembered so well the night he first saw her. He’d been working on a case involving a serial killer who had chosen Gwen and her friend C.J. as his next victims. Dean had found her at the radio station locked in a closet waiting for the killer who’d left her there as he attempted to dispose of her friend. When he’d opened that door and seen how terrified she was, she had become more than a victim to him.

But it was her strength afterward, her determination not to let her horrible experience wear her down, that had won him over. Her vibrant spirit refused to be dimmed, and it had dazzled him. She had stolen his heart.

They’d been married six months later. And over the next two years, even though it was the last thing he ever would have wanted, he’d succeeded where the killer had failed and crushed some of her bright optimism.

Dean should have known better than to have subjected her to the problems in his life. As much as he’d loved her, he hadn’t been able to keep the demons of his past from destroying the best thing that had ever happened to him. She’d tried to save their marriage, but at the time he couldn’t meet her halfway. Now, for some reason, he’d been given the chance to see her again, and he didn’t know if this was what he wanted or not.

Gwen stirred on the gurney, and Dean tightened his grip on her hand, silently willing her to wake up. The thought had no sooner entered his head than he questioned his decision to get in the ambulance. He had no idea if she would be happy to see him. Probably not. The day their divorce had been finalized, she’d told him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want to ever hear from him again. She’d said she was leaving Oxford and that he should never try to find her.

He’d agreed and for the past five years had kept his promise. Now she’d suddenly reappeared, in the last place he would have expected.

As the ambulance sped along the mountain road, he said a prayer of thanks that she’d come through her ordeal alive. Dean wanted to pray that she would be happy to see him when she woke up, but that probably wasn’t going to happen.

Suddenly her eyes blinked open. “Wh-where am I?” she whispered.

Dean released her hand and scooted out of the way so Joe could lean over her.

“Miss Anderson,” he said, “you’re in an ambulance. We’re on our way to the hospital. A doctor has been alerted and is waiting for us. Just relax, and we should be there in a few minutes.”

She closed her eyes. “My head hurts,” she murmured.

“I know. The doc will take care of that when we get to the hospital. Now just lie still.”

She swallowed and looked up at him again. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Joe. I’m one of the EMTs taking care of you.”

Her eyes opened wide and she swallowed hard. Her body trembled as she tried to push herself up from the gurney. “Th-that man...”

Joe put his hands on her shoulders and eased her back down. “Don’t think about that right now. The sheriff will want to talk to you later about what happened. For now, just relax and don’t worry. You’re safe.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. You’re very kind.”

Joe glanced over his shoulder at Dean, who’d been holding his breath in suspense. “There’s somebody here who wants to see you,” the EMT said.

A frown pulled at her forehead. “Who?”

Joe moved out of the way, and Dean eased in next to the gurney. “It’s me, Gwen.”

For a moment she didn’t move, and then a dazed look clouded her eyes. “No,” she gasped. “This can’t be real.”

Dean smiled and covered her hand with his as he leaned closer. “Yes, it’s real, Gwen. I’m here.”

At his touch, her fingers stiffened. Then she pulled her hand free and turned her face away. “No, no, this can’t be happening,” she moaned.

* * *

She had to be dreaming. Dean had been out of her life for five years. How could he be staring down at her in the back of an ambulance? She closed her eyes in hopes of clearing his image from her mind and groaned again.

“Miss Anderson!” The EMT’s voice penetrated the thick fog that seemed to be rolling into her brain, and she glanced up again. Dean no longer hovered over her. Now the young man who’d said his name was Joe was there. “Settle down, Miss Anderson. Don’t get upset.”

She tried to peer past him, to determine if she had really seen Dean’s face or just imagined it, but Joe’s body blocked her view. Her lips felt as if they were made of sandpaper when she licked them. “Dean?” Her voice wobbled as if she was begging the young man to assure her he was the only one with her.

Instead he smiled and nodded. “Yes, Dean’s here. He says he’s your husband. Is that right?”

“Ex-husband. Why is he here?”

Joe glanced over his shoulder and frowned. “I think you might need to answer that.”

The paramedic stepped back from the gurney, and Gwen’s stomach clenched when Dean maneuvered next to where she lay. “It’s really you!” she said weakly. “I thought I was dreaming.”

“No, you weren’t dreaming.”

He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. The muscles in his throat constricted as he swallowed, his gaze raking her face.

He looked the same as he always had, yet different. Healthier. His face wasn’t as bloated, nor was his complexion as red as the last time she’d seen him. His lips quirked up at the corners in a smile she remembered so well.

“I was leading a trail ride when I saw a man about to shoot you. Of course, I didn’t know it was you at first. But he...but he—” Dean’s voice cracked as if the words were lodged in his throat.

Her heart pricked at the way his eyes darkened. “I know. I remember him pointing the gun and firing. How could he have missed? He was so close to me.”

“He didn’t miss,” Dean said. “There was a metal clip holding your hair back. The bullet hit it and bounced off. It saved your life.”

She closed her eyes and shuddered. “I’m alive just because I put it in before I left the motel this morning?” She raised her hand and ran her fingers through her hair. When she didn’t feel the clip, she frowned. “Where is it now?”

“The police took it for evidence.” Dean leaned closer. “Had you ever seen this man before? Had he been following you, or did you just happen across him on the trail?”

She shook her head. “He was wearing a mask, so I can’t be sure, but I don’t think I’ve ever laid eyes on him before I saw him dumping a body in the river. When he spotted me, he chased me back to the parking lot.”

Dean’s eyes grew wide with shock. “Dumping a body?”

“Yes. I took a picture of it, but then dropped my camera when I fell in the parking lot. Did the police find it?”

“No. It wasn’t there.”

She sighed. “That’s too bad. I had a clear angle from where I was standing on the cliff above the stream.”

Dean gasped. “Did this guy see you take the picture? Is that why he followed you?”

“Yes.”

Dean raked his hand through his hair and gritted his teeth. “Gwen, you should have gotten out of there right away. You were married to a police officer long enough to know what happens when someone is witness to a crime.”

She stared at him for a moment, the memory of how scared she’d been as she ran through the forest welling up in her mind. Her nostrils flared, and she tried again to push herself up from the gurney. “I think I learned a lot during that time,” she spit out. “Maybe we should just say I was married to you long enough, and leave it at that.”

Joe reached out and grasped Dean’s shoulder. “Take it easy, man. She doesn’t need to get upset.”