“Of course. He’s actually in recovery now and should be awake soon.” He placed his cell phone on the table. “The second he’s lucid, that’s going to vibrate. I’ll take you right to him.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, fighting to hold back more tears.
“The bullet nicked his spleen but no other organs,” he continued. “It went through and through. He lost a lot of blood. That on top of the concussion pretty much shut him down. That’s why he was unconscious after the blast. Luckily you were both behind a log when the tank exploded, which shielded you from the shock wave. Otherwise, your insides would have liquefied.”
She winced.
He smiled apologetically. “Sorry. That was graphic. Bottom line, he’s going to be okay, eventually. He was lucky. You both were. If the explosion and resulting fire hadn’t alerted authorities so that help arrived quickly, he’d have bled out.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Once again, he saved me, in spite of how badly he was hurt. He saved both of us. He’s an incredible man.”
“Yes. Yes, he is. And I want to do everything I can to protect both of you. We need to catch this guy and get enough evidence to ensure he’ll either be executed or locked up so he can’thurt anyone else ever again. I know you’re weary of answering questions. But I’m coming in late on this. So I’d very much appreciate it if you’d start from the top, right after you left my office in Gatlinburg.” He pulled a computer tablet from his portfolio and set it on top of the table. Then he took out a small electronic device and set it a foot away from her. “To save time briefing my team, and to make sure I don’t miss anything, I’m going to record this as well as take notes. If you’re okay with it?”
“Absolutely.” Covering the same ground yet again didn’t bother her since it was Mason who was asking the questions. She believed that he’d actually do something with the information. None of the detectives she’d spoken to earlier had inspired that kind of confidence. “Did the police give you a copy of the likeness their sketch artist came up with?”
“Not yet.” He picked up his phone. His fingers practically flew across the screen as he typed out a text. He waited a few seconds, then the phone buzzed. He checked the screen, then set it down. “My team will have the sketch within minutes.” He poised his hands over the virtual keyboard on the tablet. “You were going to tell me the timeline. Don’t leave anything out.”
Half an hour later, a knock sounded on the door. Mason was out of his chair, gun in hand but hidden behind him before the door opened.
The detective who’d gone for a status update stood in the opening, a look of surprise on his face when he saw Mason. He took a quick glance into the room. “Where is everyone?”
“Not here. What can I do for you?”
“I, ah, wanted to let Ms. Ray know that Mr. Anton is out of surgery.”
“Thank you.” Mason closed the door before the detective could say anything else. He holstered his gun, then sat down. “You were saying?”
She clenched her hands together beneath the table. “You drew your gun. You think he’ll show up here? At the hospital?”
“It’s possible. Don’t worry. I had a guard stationed outside the surgery room. He’ll stay with Bryson in recovery as well.”
She blinked. “How do the police feel about that?”
“I’m always as accommodating as possible with law enforcement. But I’m not about to leave the security of an injured member of my team to their care. The hospital administrator was more than okay with it after I offered a substantial donation in Bryson’s name.” He winked. “Now, if you don’t mind. Please continue.”
“Yes, of course. I, um, I guess I was up to the point of where I ran like a coward for the trees.”
“No. I think you were telling me that you did exactly what Bryson asked you to do, so you wouldn’t put him in more danger by making him worry about having to protect you rather than make his own escape. But I’m puzzled. If you ran into the woods at the front of the clearing, how did you end up behind the shack when it exploded?”
Her face heated. “I didn’t exactly follow Bryson’s instructions. I know he wanted me to keep going, to run as far away as I could. But I hadn’t seen him leave the shack, and I was worried that he might have been pretending to feel better than he did, just to get me out of danger. All throughout our ordeal, he kept telling me to have faith, that it was two against one, that we could beat the bad guy together. And there I was running away. I just couldn’t do it.”
He crossed his arms on top of the table. “So what did you do?”
She wrapped her arms around her middle, remembering. “I circled through the woods to the back of the shack.”
“Where was the gunman?”
“I wasn’t sure. The truck was still parked out front. I didn’t see him anywhere.”
He stared at her, waiting.
“I got down on my belly and tried to see beneath the shack, through the crawl space. When I didn’t see anyone moving around under there, I was terrified that the gunman was inside with Bryson. So I ran to the shack and crawled up into the closet through the hole in the floor.”
He still didn’t say anything. But his eyes widened slightly.
“I heard the gunman shouting in the other room. And I smelled gas. It was filling up the cabin. A moment later, the front door creaked. I peeked around the corner and saw the gunman running for his truck.” She swallowed hard. “And Bryson, he was just sitting there, his back to the wall, holding the gas line in his hand.”
She swiped at the tears in her eyes. “For a split second, I thought he was dead. But then I saw his chest rise and realized he was still alive. I yelled at him to get out. We dropped through the hole in the closet floor and made it to the woods just before the explosion.” She wiped her tears again. “Like you said earlier, if it wasn’t for Bryson getting both of us behind that log when he did, we’d both be dead. He deserves a medal of honor. Not a bullet in the back.”
