“All superficial wounds that have just been cleaned. A bullet passed through the flesh of your arm—that was the worst of it. And the cuts and bruises on your feet.”
“My throat hurts.”
“But it’s not seriously injured. The doctor thinks you passed out before Owen did much damage. He certainly didn’t do what he thought he did.”
She remembered the dark forest, the barking dogs, the bouncing light coming toward them. She’d been trying to hold out until Cain arrived, but Owen had overpowered her at the last minute.
“Where is Owen?”
“He’s in a different hospital, in a room with an armed guard.”
“So I hurt him that bad?” She grinned weakly.
“You definitely left a few marks. But that’s not why he’s in the hospital. They’re taking out the bullet I put in him when he shot Koda.”
“What?” Alarmed, she struggled to sit up.
“Shh, it’s okay.” Cain rubbed her arm in a reassuring manner. “I’ve got him patched up. He’s going to be fine. But if John hadn’t arrived when he did, I doubt either Koda or Owen would’ve made it.”
“That must’ve been quite a scene.”
“It was, but it showed me something.”
“What?”
“As much as I love Koda, you were all I cared about at that moment.”
Their eyes met and Sheridan felt a tightening in her chest. She’d had strong feelings for Cain for so long she almost couldn’t believe he loved her back. “How’s John dealing with the truth?” she asked.
“He’s struggling. He’s lost two sons and Karen.” Cain closed his eyes for a moment. “Her funeral’s in two days.”
“Why’d Owen do it?” she whispered.
“He wasn’t just ‘different’ as we’ve always assumed. He has no conscience. Jason was the golden boy. He had the position Owen wanted in the family—so Owen killed him. I provided a convenient scapegoat. All the suspicion swirling around me kept the focus off him, so he lived with minimal fear of discovery. Until you returned. Then Ned started shooting off his mouth about how you were finally going to solve the case, and it spooked him. He didn’t know what you might’ve remembered, whether something around here would trigger a memory, or what you were capable of doing now that you have experience working with the police.”
“That’s why he tried to kill me. I get that part. It’s sick, but understandable, you know? It’s the reason he killed Amy and Karen that mystifies me.”
“They got in the way. According to Robert, Karen had found the shovel Owen used to dig your grave.”
“How does he know it was the same shovel?”
“Someone had attempted to wipe it clean, but if you looked closely enough you could see blood.”
“My blood?”
He nodded, and she swallowed to ease the soreness in her throat. She was probably pushing herself too hard, but she had to have answers before she could rest. “Why wouldn’t Owen have put it somewhere safer?”
“He thought he was being smart by hiding it in plain sight. He didn’t expect anyone to notice it. And if it was found, he figured people would think I put it there.”
“So why didn’t he try and blame you? Why’d he kill Karen?”
“She came out of the garage screaming that John had attacked her and you, and murdered Amy. With her pointing a finger in another direction, I’m guessing Owen panicked.”
Sheridan closed her eyes for a few seconds, but her mind was still whirring with questions. “What about Owen’s wife and kids?”
“I think he must love them, as much as he’s capable of loving. But they’re the ones I really feel sorry for. Lucy was completely clueless. I don’t think she believes he did what he did, even with all the evidence.”
She opened her eyes again. “She needs grief counseling.”
Cain gave her a quirky smile. “Maybe you could start up an outpost of The Last Stand in Tennessee and take care of that.”
His words reminded her that she had a difficult decision to make. She loved him, but giving up her job wasn’t going to be easy. “We need to talk about that.”
He slipped his fingers through hers. “Don’t worry, I’m just kidding. After everything you’ve been through, I wouldn’t expect you to live here.”
What did that mean? Was he saying they should part? She was afraid to ask. Her work was important to her, but she didn’t want to give him up, either. “I can’t see you living anywhere other than where you live now,” she admitted. “You belong in the forest.”
“There are forests in California.” He reached over to the counter and showed her a magazine he’d picked up somewhere. California Dreamin’. “We could live in the Sierras.”
Sheridan was excited that he seemed open to the possibility, but there were things he needed to know. “It’s different there, Cain. If you wanted to be a vet, you’d have to go through all the schooling and licensing.”
“I could do it. But I’m actually considering becoming a dog breeder and trainer.”
Sheridan liked the idea. “In the Sierras, huh?”
He turned to a beautiful picture of Emerald Bay. “Right here.”
She couldn’t help laughing. Obviously, he didn’t know how far Lake Tahoe was from Sacramento. “That’d be a three-hour commute for me each day. Would you consider someplace in the foothills?” she countered.
He studied the picture wistfully. “Would it be anything like this?”
She took the magazine and thumbed through it. “It’d look a lot like this.” She tapped a page showing Apple Hill in Placerville.
“I could live with that,” he said, his eyebrows raised in interest.
Sheridan relinquished the magazine as her exhaustion edged closer. “I want plenty of babies, too,” she told him.
“How many is plenty?”
“Four, five, six.”
He laughed. “Good thing kids and dogs go together.” He showed her a picture of a cabin with a great view and lots of glass. “Maybe I’ll build us a home like this one to house our brood.”
She smiled as she imagined them in such a place, nestled in the foothills with their babies and their dogs. Now that she thought of it, now that she knew Cain was willing to move, she could see him fitting in there just fine. There was only one problem….