Expired Cache - Lisa Phillips Page 0,21
up there. Probably with her sister.”
“The one from the hit and run?”
Dean frowned but didn’t answer.
“This isn’t good.” He heard a shuffle and she said, “Possible officer down situation. Civilians involved.” She paused a second. “We have no idea.”
“We.” Dean didn’t feel like he was part of a team much anymore. Not in the eat/sleep/breathe/brotherhood of war he’d been immersed in before. It was nice to feel that camaraderie now, even in a small way. He wasn’t part of the police department or emergency services. Though a lot of people did classify him as a first responder. Neither was he part of the team he lived with. They had their own company, and their own missions.
Starting this therapy center was supposed to be his new team. Something he could build himself.
Savannah said, “I’m on my way.”
“Copy that.” Dean heard the tone as Savannah hung up on her end.
He ran faster, knowing he would get there first. Were the two Ridgeman women safe? Were they hurt? He’d seen Ellie right after nearly getting hit by a car. She’d weathered that like a champ—someone really stubborn. But he’d seen the hurt in her eyes. Something that made him run faster now than he normally did, even when at the sprint part of interval training.
If either of them were hurt, he had his backpack of medical supplies.
All he needed was to get there.
A shot slammed into a tree in front of him. Bark sprayed out, along with the smell of cordite. The shards of wood stung his cheek. Dean kept going, changing direction so he was an erratically moving target and not just a sitting duck. Any rifleman worth his salt could fire ahead of a fast-moving human or animal and hit them. Dean could pass any weapons test he was given, but he wasn’t above average in skill level.
When no more shots came, he figured it was a warning only. The shooter wasn’t trying to kill him. He just wanted to encourage Dean to turn back without helping the two women he assumed were in their grandfather’s cabin—Ellie’s cabin now.
Dean continued, heading through the woods, going in the right direction. He’d looked at a map earlier and had a rough idea where it was.
And then he saw it. The cabin, through the trees.
Jess was out front. She turned, gun up, then realized it was him. “I’m going after him. You stay here with her.”
“She hurt?” Never mind that he had far more training hunting someone through rough terrain than she did.
“No.”
“You?”
“I’m gone.” She ran from the cabin.
Dean headed for the stairs. “Ellie? It’s Dean.” He walked in slowly, just in case she had a weapon. “Your sister told me to stay with you.”
As if he would feel pressure to follow her order.
“I don’t need a babysitter.” Her voice wobbled.
Dean glanced around the cabin. “Where are you?”
“It doesn’t matter. Go help Jess find whoever that was.” She sounded breathy, her voice thick. “They shot at us.”
He saw the bullet hole in the front window. “I see that. She said you were okay. Are you?”
“Yep. Fine.”
He didn’t believe it for one second. He kept looking and found her beside the couch, sitting on the floor with her back to the wall. Knees bent. He shifted his rifle behind him and crouched in front of her. She hugged a book to her chest.
“What’s that you’ve got there?”
Her eyes were wide. Why did they seem bigger than before? She sniffed. “My g-grandfather’s journal.” She blinked and he saw the sheen of tears. “He shot at the cabin.”
“Did you get hurt?”
She shook her head. “Your cheek is bleeding.”
He swiped at the wet there, and his fingertips came away bloody, so he wiped his face on the shoulder of his T-shirt. “Thanks. Probably stings like your hands, right?”
She looked at her palms. Raw and red, with a bandage on each palm. “You should help Jess.”
“I need to make sure you are all right before I do that.”
“I’m fine. So, go.”
Dean frowned. “You don’t need to shove me out of here.” He looked around. Was that it? She was trying to protect what was hers, which meant he needed to get out. He had no business here.
He stood. “I’ll leave you to your cabin full of busted-up junk.”
She huffed.
Dean turned back. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
He was supposed to be helping her like he helped everyone. Why did she bring out this reaction in him, where stubbornness irritated him into firing back? He was trying to be the good