“Let’s see…I did a cut and color for Joyce Sallow, a trim for Larry Morrill and a highlight for Alexis Rodgers.”

“You were busy. Where’s your sister tonight?”

“At the fireworks show. See? I’m fine. Just…shaken up. And my head’s killing me but that’s to be expected,” she added. “Take care of Isaac.”

“I will in a minute. And I’ll give you something for the pain, too.” Hunt recorded her blood pressure and heart rate. Then the doorbell rang and Isaac stepped out to answer. Sheriff King had arrived.

Not surprisingly, Myles’s first thought was for Claire. But Isaac’s injury didn’t go unnoticed. “What happened to you?”

“Collateral damage,” he replied. “She’s in here.”

Going along with the diversion, Myles followed Isaac into the bedroom. Claire was his wife’s best friend; he was obviously more concerned about her. But Isaac had a feeling they’d return to the subject of his injury at some point, if only to see how it related to the attack at the cabin. King was nothing if not thorough. And Isaac wasn’t the most trusted man in town.

“She’ll be fine,” Hunt said as they entered. “I’m going to sew up this cut. That’ll take care of the bleeding. She should be watched, just in case she has a slight concussion. But this isn’t serious.”

“Good. Can the stitches wait until I have a word with her?” the sheriff wanted to know.

“Are you up to talking with Sheriff King for a few minutes?” Hunt asked Claire.

Claire continued to hold the bandage to her head. “Of course. Whatever will help. I want the person who did this caught.”

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When King asked for a few minutes alone with her, the doctor and Isaac left the room. Then Hunt insisted Isaac lie down so he could inspect the gash on his chest.

“Damn. This one’s jagged and nasty,” he said with a frown.

Isaac cocked an eyebrow at him. “Nice bedside manner. Aren’t you supposed to tell me to relax, everything will be okay?”

Hunt grinned. “You can take it. You’re the closest I’ve come to creating my own rag doll. You know the routine by now.”

Thanks to several encounters with various wild animals, he did. Although he’d been out alone, filming wildlife since he was in junior high—camera equipment was all he’d ever asked for, and what Tippy, the man who’d raised him, had generously provided—it wasn’t until he’d gotten older that he’d been harmed. He blamed himself for being careless or becoming too cavalier. But, his fault or not, that bear he’d tangled with four years ago had nearly cost him his left arm. And there might be more incidents in the future. That kind of danger went with his job. He had to get close enough to his subjects to capture good footage. That was what made his work better than most. Not only had he come within arm’s distance of bears and wolves, he’d filmed cougars, moose, bison and elk. He’d flown to Florida to do a documentary on alligators, and the Amazon to do a show on spiders, and another on snakes for the Disney channel. In the past decade, he’d been all over the world—not bad for an abandoned kid who was almost entirely self-taught.

“How long’s it been since you’ve had a tetanus shot?” The doctor spoke as he numbed the area.

“When I was attacked by that bear.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t the time before that—with the wolves?”

“No, it was the bear.” It’d been almost seven years since the incident with the wolves. He’d had a gun with him on that occasion. Firing a shot into the sky had mitigated the damage. He wasn’t sure how he’d survived mama bear. From what he remembered, she simply got distracted and galloped off.

“I’m glad one of us can keep it straight,” Hunt grumbled.

He was in the middle of stitching Isaac up when the sheriff came out of the bedroom.

“Any idea who attacked Claire?” he asked Isaac.

A local anesthetic had put Isaac out of pain. “No.”

“You didn’t see anything?”

“Headlights.”

“How’d you know she was hurt?”

“I heard her scream.” The memory of it still raised the hair on his arms.

“From way over here?”

“From the edge of the clearing.” Isaac explained everything that had happened in as much detail as he could, including his run-in with the unyielding tree.

When he’d finished, the sheriff put his notepad in his pocket, checked Isaac’s wound to make sure it was consistent with his story, then scratched his neck. “So…it could be anyone with a car that has headlights and taillights. That narrows it down.”

Isaac wished the doctor would hurry up and finish. Pain or no pain, he didn’t like needles. “It’s someone who knows the area.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He was familiar with the back way. He followed her in, so I expected to find his vehicle close to hers. But he took the alternate route just after my place, the long way, and went up and around. That’s why I didn’t spot his car until he was driving off.”

Myles rested his hands on his utility belt. “That doesn’t narrow it down too much, either. What do you think he wanted?”

Isaac shook his head. The culprit hadn’t attempted to rape her. He hadn’t really tried to hurt her, either. She might’ve ended up unharmed had she not fallen.

Still, it was chilling to think that someone had followed her and crept into the house while she was there alone at night. “No clue.”

“Thanks for helping her out.” King shifted his attention to John Hunt. “Is it okay to move her? Can I take her home?”

When Hunt hesitated midstitch, Isaac tried to ignore the doctor’s gloved hand, covered with blood, holding that needle.

“Not if she’s going to be there alone.”

“Her sister lives next door,” Myles said. “Leanne will look after her.”

“Fine with me. As long as Leanne’s willing and up to it.”

Isaac would’ve offered to let her stay, to watch over her through the night and give her a ride in the morning, but he knew she wouldn’t want that.

As the sheriff went to get her, Isaac closed his eyes. Although he experienced no pain, he felt a tugging sensation with each stitch.

The sound of movement made him glance up. Claire was walking under her own power but King had a tight grip on her upper arm, as if he didn’t quite trust that she wouldn’t fall.




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