She hastily added, “I got tired of being viewed as the city girl and watched some YouTube videos about hiking. Anyway, I took my stroll in the direction of the Patriot Zealot’s so-secret compound. Just to see what was in there.”

The police chief’s jaw went hard—and so did Bull’s—and now she had two men frowning at her.

No matter how uncomfortable, she preferred that they believed her to be an idiot rather than think she was surveying the PZ land for a real reason.

“Could you tell if the gunfire came from inside the fence?” the chief asked.

“I couldn’t say. It wasn’t from behind me, but…” She shrugged and winced as the movement pulled on her wounded arm.

The cop glanced at Bull.

“Hawk wasn’t sure,” Bull said. “Her tracks at that point were buried underneath a batch of other footprints.”

The ones who’d chased her.

The chief’s expression turned sour. “I’ll speak to Reverend Parrish…and will get the usual run-around. That they don’t know anything. That they heard gunfire and went out to see if someone needed help.”

Oh, sure they had…out of the goodness of their little hearts.

She just checked the cop to see if he had more questions.

“I wish I could say I’d arrest the shooter, but it’s unlikely. Other hikers and hunters have been fired upon when in that vicinity. The Zealots are practiced at making sure no one sees exactly who did the shooting. I’m damned sure it’s them, but I can’t prove it.” Chief MacNair appeared as if he’d like to tear the compound apart with his bare hands.

Huh. This law enforcement officer certainly didn’t like the Patriot Zealots. He couldn’t be the one who Kit had written about in her letter.

Eyes simmering with fury, Bull wore the same frustrated expression as the cop.

The chief rose. “Thank you, Ms. Bocelli. I’ll let you get some rest.” His voice took on an edge of command. “Now that you’ve seen the compound, please stay away from it.”

Not going to happen.

She put on a friend’s thick southern accent. “But, Chief, it’s such a pretty fence, and the people are so hospitable, bless their hearts.” She put a hand on her chest and sagged back into the chair. “Although, I do say, being shot at has quite reduced my sense of adventure.”

Bull’s deep laugh sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine.

Chief MacNair grinned at her, then left the way he’d come in—across the deck to the courtyard.

Frankie turned to Bull. “Don’t tell me, he has a house here, too?”

“’Fraid so.”

“How many brothers do you have?” Remembering how they’d just strolled in, she eyed the deck door. Her city paranoia was outraged. “Don’t you lock anything up?”