Laurel paused, remembering his movements toward her as he fired. “No. I think we’re in the way of what he wants, of what he needs, and it’s that simple. We’re obstacles that have to be removed and shooting us is the easiest way to do it.” She couldn’t see the killer gaining any satisfaction or fulfilling his psychotic needs with a gun. The kills had been personal to him. The shootings weren’t.

Walter swallowed. “Maybe he’s after you now. You fit the profile.”

“He hasn’t left me any gifts or threats.” Well, except for shooting at her, but that wasn’t the same. “But you bring up a good point. Why am I not on his radar?” She was professional, had several PhDs, and looked eerily similar to Abigail. Her mind spun with this new puzzle. “Thanks, Walter. I’ll check on you when I head home today.”

She patted him again and walked out of the room, striding toward Huck’s hospital room.

He was already standing in the doorway, filling out a pair of navy blue scrubs. A bandage covered his left temple. “My clothes were ruined.” He’d showered, and his unruly hair curled beneath his ears. “The doc released me. Let’s get out of here. That nurse keeps coming by to do more tests, and I swear, if I snarl at her again, she’s going to order a colonoscopy.”

Laurel shook her head. “Then stop snarling at her.”

His eyes were a sleepy brown in the morning light. “I can’t help it. She keeps trying to poke and prod at me. I think she likes it.” Was that a glimmer of fear in his expression?

Laurel chuckled and moved back into the hallway. “Fine. I’ll take point.”

“Good. I expect you to jump her if she makes a move toward me again.” He was so close she could feel his breath on her neck.

They safely reached the outside, where the sky was gray and the wind alive after being calm for so long. It slapped them, pushing Laurel back a step. At least it wasn’t snowing. They fought the wind to reach the vehicle. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Great.” He opened the passenger-side door and settled himself in the seat.

She slid behind the wheel and started the engine, hoping the heat would come on quickly. “Great?”

“No. My head hurts and I have a bruise in the shape of Texas on my hip.” He sighed and kicked his boots out. “But at least I’m out of there. Where’s my dog?”