As if having to be rescued by Kendra and her K9, Smoky, wasn’t bad enough, Dom hated knowing he’d dragged her squarely into danger. Not that he could have anticipated anyone shooting at him. It wasn’t as if he knew anything more than he had before.
Except for what the nurse, Helen, had told him about Stuart Ramsey’s confession.
Yet now that they were back at the motel, seeing the bullet holes in his truck, it was impossible to ignore the fact that someone wanted him dead.
Stopping behind his truck, he turned to face Kendra. “We need to call the police, then I’ll drive back to Billings while you head back to your family’s ranch.”
She frowned. “I’m okay with calling the police, but you can’t head back to Billings. The shooter might find you there.”
“That’s my problem, not yours.” Kendra was prettier in person with her dark hair and sparkling blue eyes. Not that it should matter one way or the other. She was the innocent victim in this. Just like her parents had been killed simply because they’d been in his father’s plane. “I’ll handle it.”
She scowled. “That’s ridiculous. This guy knows what you’re driving. Get into my SUV. I’ll take you to a new hotel. Somewhere you won’t be found.”
“Shouldn’t we wait here for the cops to arrive?”
“No. Call them on the way. This guy might come back.”
He hesitated, wishing there was another option. Greybull was a much smaller town than Billings. He doubted they had rideshare services, so maybe getting a ride from Kendra wasn’t the worst idea. “Okay, but after you drop me off, you need to head home. I don’t want you to get caught in the cross fire.”
“We’ll talk to the police and go from there.” She used her key fob to unlock the SUV and to open the back hatch. “Up, Smoky.”
The beautiful furry dog gracefully leaped into the back crate area. Kendra threw her backpack inside and lowered the hatch as he pulled his overnight case from his truck. He tossed it onto the floor of the back seat, then folded himself into the passenger seat. He moved the seat back to give himself as much leg room as possible.
Kendra slid in beside him, started the car, and pulled out onto the road. “There are more hotel options in Cody.”
“That’s fine.” He didn’t like leaving his truck behind, but he wasn’t even sure it would run. “Does Greybull have a police department, or will I get patched through to the county sheriff’s office?”
“Greybull has a small police force.” She offered a lopsided smile. “Smaller than Cody’s, which isn’t very big either. They get a lot of help from the highway patrol.”
“Whatever works.” He dialed 911 and waited for the dispatcher to answer.
“911, what is your address?” a female voice asked.
“Um, I’m not sure of the exact address, but I was involved in a shooting incident outside the Redwood Motel about an hour ago. A person fired at me three times until I ran into the woods to escape.”
“What’s your name, sir?” she asked.
Dom hesitated, then realized they could run his plate to identify him. “Dominic Lakeland. I live in Billings, Montana, and drove down to visit a friend. I planned to stay at the Redwood Motel.”
“And you say there was a shooting? Is anyone hurt?”
“Nobody is hurt as far as I know, but my truck is in the parking lot sporting a couple of bullet holes.” He remembered what Kendra said about the clerk wearing earbuds and watching a movie on his phone. No wonder the police hadn’t been called. “I think the gunman took off.”
“And where are you now, sir?” the dispatcher asked.
“Not at the motel.” He realized this call wouldn’t be of any help. By the time the officer responded, all he or she would see was a damaged truck. “I’ll give you my cell number. The responding officer can call me if he needs more information.”
“I have your cell number up on my screen, sir,” the dispatcher said. “But I know the responding officer will want to speak with you in person.”
“Sorry, that’s not happening.” He abruptly ended the call, tucking his phone back into his coat pocket. “I think that was a waste of time.”
“The incident needs to be put on record.” Kendra shrugged. “I’ll call my brother-in-law Griff Flannery. He’s with the FBI.”
He shot her a surprised look. “Seriously?”
“Yep. Another brother-in-law, Doug Bridges, is with the DEA. My oldest sister, Maya, is a former cop too.” She arched a brow. “If you are involved in something criminal, my family will figure it out.”
“I’m not a criminal!” The words came out harsher than he had intended. “I didn’t do anything to warrant being used for target practice.”
