So he didn’t know anything about her. For some reason, that was comforting. The pressure he put on her arm hurt and felt good at the same time.
“It looks like you’ve lost a lot of blood, but I don’t think the bullet is still in there.”
“Good. A couple of stitches and I can go home.”
“You shouldn’t have run after the perp.”
“Instinct,” she said. “And it’s a flesh wound. Last time I was shot, it hurt a hell of a lot more.”
She didn’t want to go to the hospital. In the back of her mind she thought of ways she could talk the paramedics out of it. She watched as Mike Lane put a thick wad of gauze over where the bullet had taken a chunk out of her arm. Yeah, she’d need a couple of stitches. But better stitches than a dead politician. Or a dead former cop.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jim finally look over at her while he spoke to Lieutenant Governor Hart’s plainclothes security. She couldn’t read his expression. He’d always been hard to read—except when he was angry with her. Which, during the last few months of their relationship, had been pretty much all the time. Moving in with him had been one of her biggest mistakes.
Steve Jefferson on the other hand looked both surprised and happy, and he gave her a thumbs up sign when he caught her eye. She hadn’t talked to Steve since she'd resigned from the force. Steve had been Jim’s partner, Jim’s friend—when everything went to hell, she’d forgotten he’d also become her friend.
Nothing she could do about that now.
Jim walked over and squatted next to her. Concern and anger clouded his pale blue eyes. She didn’t want his pity—or his rage.
“You’re a hero.”
Or his sarcasm.
“Spare me. I was in the right place at the right time.” She grimaced at the thought of how the press was going to spin this debacle in tomorrow's papers. The ironic thing about it, if she were still a cop, they probably wouldn't write anything more than Local Cop Thwarts Assassination Attempt. Now, she was a damn hero. The last thing she wanted, or needed.
With her luck, the headline would be more like, Cop Who Resigned Under a Cloud of Scandal Interferes with CHP During Assassination Attempt.
“Hart?” she asked Jim.
“Had the wind knocked out of him. Hotel game him a room. No injuries, but I haven’t interviewed him yet. His security sucks. Of course, he’s the fucking lieutenant governor, who’d even think he’d be a target?” He said to Mike, “How’s her arm?”
“Upper bicep. The bullet went in, went out. She lost quite a bit of blood chasing down the perp, but I think it’s stopped.”
Jim turned back to her. “Why were you here?”
“Interview.”
He stared at her as if he didn’t believe her. “What?”
“I need a job. I was here for a job interview.” This had proven to be one of the most embarrassing days of her life. She’d been a decorated cop and she should have had at least twenty more years on the force. Now she was practically groveling to work hotel security. And she wouldn’t even make it to their long list. Why had they even called her in for an interview, anyway?
Jim glanced away. Damn him, she didn’t want his pity. Or anyone’s.
“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” she said.
He snorted. “You don’t really have a choice.”
She was about to argue that her brother could patch her up just fine—he’d been an Army medic. Then one of the reporters spotted Alex. The woman rushed over to the tape and tried to get Alex’s attention. A cameraman followed, then several other reporters. Their questions sound like they were being shouted from the opposite end of a long tunnel.
“Miss! Miss! How did you know someone was going to try to assassinate the Lieutenant Governor?”
“Are you on Hart’s security team?”
“Do you know who shot at him?”
“What’s your name?”
Steve Jefferson, all gorgeous glistening black six-foot-four inch former football muscle, turned to the reporters, a stern look on his face that had intimidated the most violent of criminals. “Clear the area or I will cite each and every one of you for interfering with an official police investigation.”
“Officer, is there—” a reporter began before Steve held his hand up inches from the guy's face.
“Timmons! Expand the ropes, get these people out of here.” Two officers quickly moved the crime scene tape farther out, blocking any access to and from the large lobby, except along a narrow path on the opposite side.
Alex tried to stand, and Jim pushed her back down. “Dammit, Jim.” She took a deep breath, calmed her racing heart. It was the reporters that had set her off more than the situation. Composed, she said, “I need to walk you through what happened. Better now, while it’s fresh.”
“We have plenty of witnesses.”
She stared at him. She shouldn’t have to explain that her training made her a better witness than any civilian.
“Fine,” he said.