Stella nestled her head deeper into the pillow. “I don’t have anything against therapy. My required sessions with the department shrink were important after the shooting, but I thought I was getting over it. Looks like I was wrong. I’m not worried about the actual nightmares. I’m pretty sure they’ll fade when this is over. The doctor said they could come and go, depending on triggers.” But as long as she was a cop, her life would never be free of triggers.

“Then what’s bothering you?”

She tucked the sheet over her breasts. “I blew off my pistol qualification last week.”

Mac waited, patient as always, making her feel like one of the wild animals he studied.

“Every time I pull the trigger, I flinch.” Stella flung a hand over her head. “You know about the shooting back in November?”

“Not all the details.”

“The suspect fled, and I shot him. The bullet struck him in the arm, but it didn’t stop him. He went on to do terrible things. He killed two cops. Your sister and Brody almost died.” She smoothed the edge of the sheet against her skin. “If I had stopped him, none of that would have happened. Those two cops would still be alive.”

“You cannot possibly think any of that was your fault.” Mac shifted closer and took her hand. “There is only one person responsible for their deaths: the shooter.”

“My brain knows this, but my heart sees the police chaplain on the doorstep.” A tear slipped from her eye. “Just like when my dad died.”

Mac pulled her into his arms. Holding her against his chest, he stroked her hair. “You know you’re being completely unreasonable. The mayor gave you a medal for your performance in the shootout.”

“How do you know about that?” Stella lifted her head.

“I might have been keeping tabs on you.”

“From the jungle?”

“I didn’t say it was easy.” He brushed the tear from her cheek. “But you’re worth it. I ran all the way to South America, but I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

She rested her head on his chest. Just being in his arms helped. “I’ll see the shrink, but I still have to get through my qualification.”

“Have you been to the range?”

“Not lately. The cop crowd there makes me nervous. I feel like everyone is staring at me, even though they’re not,” Stella said. “I know this is all in my head.”

Mac glanced at the clock. He stood, taking Stella’s hand and dragging her to her feet. “It’s five o’clock. Grab a shower. I’ll make coffee.”

“Where are we going?” Still groggy, Stella headed for the bathroom. She turned on the spray to let the water warm up.

Mac was sending a text. “Firing range.”

“Who are you texting?”

“Hannah. No one makes shooting more fun than she does.”