Glock and I chuckle, and I feel myself settling down, falling into cop mode, a frame of mind I’m much more comfortable with than traumatized homeowner. Or pregnant female who’s just been shot at by an armed intruder.

I glance over my shoulder at Glock. “We need to get someone out to Paula Kester’s father’s house. Carl Shellenberger. Take a deputy with you. And wear your vest.”

Touching the brim of his hat as he passes me, he jogs down the hall and disappears down the stairs.

Skid and I follow. At the base of the stairs, I glance right to see a deputy kneeling next to the cell phone I tossed at Kester. He rises upon spotting me. “You okay, Chief?”

“Yup.” I start toward my phone but realize it’s probably evidence and may have Kester’s DNA on it. “You contact BCI?” I ask the deputy.

He nods. “CSU is en route.”

I think about Tomasetti, wincing inwardly at the thought of his finding out what happened from someone else.

“Just make sure everyone knows Kester is armed and dangerous.” The image of him flashes in my mind’s eye. “He looks like he’s been up for a few days—”

The deputy nods. “We got people on it, Chief. Everyone and their uncle’s out looking for this guy.”

I nod and start toward the kitchen to call Tomasetti on the landline. He picks up on the first ring. “Kate?”

I can tell from the tone of his voice that he already knows. “I’m okay,” I tell him.

“What the hell happened?”

“Kester broke in. After you left.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Was he armed?”

“With a handgun.”

“Jesus Christ, Kate.”

“Tomasetti, I’m okay.” I hear static in the background and realize he’s already in his vehicle. “Where are you?”

“Fifteen minutes away. Do me a favor and don’t go anywhere.”

“I’ll be here,” I tell him, and the line goes dead.

*   *   *

I’m standing on the back porch, talking with a Wayne County sheriff’s deputy, when I hear the crunch of gravel beneath tires. I look up to see Tomasetti’s Tahoe barrel down the lane, make a slight right, and then skid to a halt behind my borrowed Crown Vic. I have no idea how he made the drive from Richfield so quickly, but I don’t care. All I know at the moment is that I’m glad to see him.

His face is grim when he exits the vehicle. He walks around the rear with long, assured strides, nodding at the deputy as he approaches. His face doesn’t change when his gaze flicks to me. I think I see the flash of emotion in his eyes, but it’s gone so quickly I can’t be sure.

“You okay, Chief?” he asks easily.