“You’re a peach.”
He pulled over a stool and sat down. Gabriel had a way of looking at you as if you were the only person in the world. Hospitals were loud, crowded, and bustling, but all that fell away. “You didn’t call your father.”
“Oh, shit.” She should have called her dad. He would have wanted to hear that she was okay from her. Would it have killed her to give him two minutes? “Did you call him?”
Gabriel shook his head. “He heard it along with most everyone else—through the media.”
“I’m the world’s worst daughter. You told him I was okay, right?”
“Of course. He’s waiting in my office. I just wanted to make sure you were cleaned up and didn’t look like death warmed over when he walked in.”
“He’s here? I need a shirt,” Alex said. She rubbed her temples. Her head was aching. “And do you have some aspirin around here?”
“You can’t mix your meds,” Gabriel said.
She stared at him. “I’m not taking pain meds. What about Tylenol? Advil? Something over-the-counter-ish?”
“I’ll find you a shirt,” he said.
Gabriel walked out and Alex braced herself for her father.
Judge Andrew Morgan walked in a few minutes later. Worry etched his face, disappearing when he saw that she was okay.
“I’m so sorry dad.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead. He rested his chin on her head a moment, then stepped back. “My clerk told me that you had been shot saving the life of Travis Hart. I didn’t know anything else.”
“I have no excuse for not calling you. I’m fine, just a couple of stitches.”
“Gabriel told me.”
She felt like shit. “I’m really, really sorry.” Her eyes burned with unshed tears. The last thing she wanted to do was worry her dad.
He sat down on the stool that Gabriel had vacated. “What happened?”
She told him everything, starting with walking out on the interview and ending with pursuing the suspect. He didn’t say anything for a long minute.
“Jim caught the case.”
Her dad seemed surprised. “Jim Perry.”
“Yeah, my ex. I know you liked him, sorry it didn’t work out for you.”
She was really bitchy right now.
“Alexandra, I liked Jim. But I love you.”
She always put her foot in it.
“He’s a good cop,” she said. “He didn’t like my analysis, but he’ll figure it out on his own.”
“What analysis?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
Because she was stuck here until Gabriel came back with a shirt, she said, “From the shooter’s angle, I don’t think Hart was the target. But it doesn’t make any sense—why take out a staffer?”
“And Jim doesn’t concur?”
“There was a huge towering plant thing that blocked Hart from the shooter. But he if was good, he could have shot through it. Though good snipers aren’t going to put an obstacle between them and their target. Maybe he didn’t expect the plant to be there, but that means no recon. Since when does a sniper not case out his roost? But Jim’s theory also made sense.”
“Which was?”
“The shooter wanted to cause a scene, scare Hart, scare the press, whatever. That he didn’t intend to kill anyone, or didn’t care who he shot.”
“He shot you.”
“I wasn’t the target.”
“Maybe not.”
“Maybe?”
“I mean, Jim’s theory is sound, but so is yours. Maybe Hart was the target. Or his staff. Let Jim do his job.”
And that was it. It was Jim’s job to investigate the assassination attempt, not hers. End of story.
Gabriel Storm came in with a sweatshirt. “It’s clean,” he said.
She pulled it on, wincing when her arm pulled.
“And, because I know you won’t take the pain meds even if I ordered you, here are two prescription strength Tylenol. Trust me—you’ll want them. Just to take the edge off.” He handed her a cup with the two pills big enough to choke a horse, and a bottle of water.
“Thanks for not making a huge production, Gabriel,” she said after swallowing the pills.
“You’ll want to bypass the reporters on your way out—there’s only a few, but all it takes is one jerk to ruin your day.” He handed her dad his hospital ID. “Drive your car into the physician’s lot. There’s a separate entrance from our garage. I’ll take Alex to meet you. That way you’ll slip away undetected.”
The judge shook Gabriel’s hand. “Thank you. Again. You’ve taken good care of my daughter.”
“It’s my job, Judge.”
Alex’s dad left to retrieve his car, and Alex said to Gabriel as they walked, “I’ll make you cookies.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Those peanut butter cookies you made for Christmas?”
“If you liked them.”
“They were amazing. Selena and I arm-wrestled for the last one.”
“Who won?”
“I did. But I split it with her.”