In A Killer's Sights

Thanks to his training, it took Dean only a few minutes to extinguish the fire that had spread beneath the ambulance. When he was convinced it was out, he ran back to the driver’s door and hammered at the window with the base of the fire extinguisher. After a few blows it shattered, and he reached inside to unlock the door.

Blood was pouring down the side of Wilson’s head. Dean placed his fingertips on his neck and was relieved to feel a weak pulse. With the fire out, he debated whether or not to pull Wilson from the cab. Before he could decide, he heard the sounds of sirens and brakes screeching as the first responders came to a stop on the road above.

“Down here,” Joe yelled to the firemen and EMTs who jumped from their vehicles and hurried down the embankment toward the wreck.

Dean backed away and let the emergency workers take control of the scene, then walked to where Joe and Gwen stood. Her worried gaze swept over him as he came closer. “Are you okay?” she asked.

He grimaced. “Yeah. How about you?”

“The wound on her head has started to bleed,” Joe said. “I’m going to get a new bandage for it.”

Dean watched his friend walk away, then turned back to Gwen. She stared at him for a moment before she dropped to her knees and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Unsure what to do, Dean hesitated before he squatted beside her. He started to put his arm around her, but thought better of it. Finally, he braced his hands on his knees and leaned close.

“Gwen, are you all right?” he asked.

She looked up with tear-filled eyes, and his stomach clenched at the memory of how often he’d been the cause of her tears in the past. She had once said she would never forgive him, and he believed her. He wished he could let her know how he regretted everything he had done that had torn their marriage apart, but now was not the time.

She nodded. “When I smelled that gasoline, I was so scared. Then I thought I was the only one who’d survived the wreck.” She glanced at the ambulance. The first responders had removed Wilson from inside and were bent over him, administering aid.

Dean smiled. “But you called 911 anyway. That was quick thinking.”

Her cheeks flushed and a smile pulled at her lips. “I’m just glad your cell phone fell out of your pocket to make me think of it.”

The stilted conversation between the two of them reminded him how different things were now than they’d been years ago. He wished he could go back and tell that young police officer to do things differently, but he couldn’t. What was done was done, and the past couldn’t be changed.

“Gwen—” he began, but stopped when a familiar voice interrupted him.

“Dean, I was nearly back to town when I got the message to return. What happened?”

He looked up to find his friend the sheriff coming down the embankment. Dean placed a hand on Gwen’s elbow and supported her as they rose to their feet. Ben Whitman stopped beside them and glanced from one to the other.

Dean nodded toward the wrecked ambulance. “I guess our guy wasn’t through for the day.”

Ben frowned and pushed his hat back on his head. “You think the shooter at the trailhead caused this wreck?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I saw him.” He turned to Gwen. “This is Sheriff Ben Whitman. He’s a good friend of mine. You need to tell him your story about what happened by the stream. Then we can fill him in on what went down here.” He glanced back at Ben. “This is Gwen.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Ben told her. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“About me?”

He nodded, a smile curling his lips. “Dean and I have been friends a long time.” He glanced at the ring on Dean’s hand, and Gwen’s mouth dropped open. From her surprised look, Dean guessed she hadn’t noticed it before. He wondered how she felt about it.

Her face flushed and she jerked her gaze away. “Then I suppose you know our history.”

“Some of it, but right now I’m more interested in what happened when you were attacked. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Dean listened as Gwen recounted her tale of being pursued through the forest by a man wearing a ski mask and how terrified she’d been when he’d leveled the gun and shot at her. When she’d finished, Dean described the shots that had caused the ambulance to go over the side of the mountain and what had happened after that.

“This guy knew me,” Dean said. “When I got to my feet, he called me by name. Not long after that, he turned and ran. He’d already started the fire by that time, though.”

“Did you recognize his voice?” Ben asked.

Dean shook his head. “No. It was muffled by the ski mask, but there was something familiar about it.”

The sheriff sighed. “If you come up with anything that could help us, let me know. Looks like our guy has had a busy day. Instead of a search for just a shooter, now I have to let my deputies know we’re looking for a body in the stream, too.”

He turned and walked a few feet away before he took out a cell phone. Dean could hear him talking to Dispatch, giving orders to change the focus of the hunt. He’d just finished the call when Joe came to stand beside them.

“How’s the driver?” Gwen asked.

A troubled look flashed on Joe’s face. “He must have hit his head on the steering wheel when we crashed. He’s still unconscious, and we’re getting ready to leave with him for the hospital. Sorry, but both of you have to come, too. We want to make sure you don’t have any internal injuries.”

“And what about you?” Dean asked.

Joe chuckled. “I’ll get checked out, too. They’re taking Wilson up to the ambulance right now.” He glanced at Gwen. “Miss Anderson, you need to lie down on the stretcher so we can get you up the incline, too.”

“I don’t need a stretcher,” she protested. “I can walk.”

Before Joe could answer her, Dean stepped closer. “You’ve been through a lot this afternoon, Gwen. Joe and the paramedics are just doing their jobs, so do what they say, please.”

She opened her mouth as if she meant to argue further, but then closed it and nodded. “Okay, I don’t want to be difficult.”

Two of the first responders appeared beside them with a stretcher and lowered it for Gwen to lie down. She huffed out another exasperated breath and rolled her eyes before she complied.

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. “I see you haven’t changed a bit. You’re just as determined and independent as you were when we were married.”

Her forehead wrinkled as she studied him. That was the same look she’d given him many times in the past when she was trying to figure out the answer to a burning question. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was pondering now.

The EMTs picked up the stretcher and began the trek up the mountainside to the road, where a new ambulance waited. They’d taken only a few steps when Gwen pushed herself up on her elbows and called out to him, “Dean, will I see you at the hospital?”

He raised his hand and waved to her. “You can count on it,” he called back.

She took a deep breath and lay back down on the stretcher. “Good.”

The word was spoken so softly he wondered if he’d heard her correctly.

Gwen hated him, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d come to realize what living with an alcoholic must have been like for her. There was no way he could ever make up for the unhappiness he’d caused her, and no way he would allow her to be hurt more in the future.

She wasn’t safe in this mountain community. A killer had tried twice to kill her and would probably try again. She needed to give up the idea of filming a documentary here and put as much distance between herself and this place as possible. Now all Dean had to do was convince her of it.

* * *

Gwen sat on the edge of the exam table in the emergency room, her feet dangling over the side and her cell phone pressed to her ear. For the past ten minutes she’d been talking with her mother and explaining what had happened today. To say that her mom was upset was an understatement.

She had always been protective of Gwen, more so than most mothers. Gwen had chalked that up to the fact that she was an only child. Since her divorce from Dean, her mother had made it her mission to try to control Gwen’s whole life. Sometimes to the point that Gwen felt she was about to suffocate.

It wasn’t the fact she’d twice almost been killed today that had her mother so riled up, though. It was Dean’s presence that had unleashed all her mama-bear instincts. “Mom, please,” Gwen said for perhaps the tenth time, “there’s no need for you to get upset.”