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prosecutor was missing. Ramsey hadn’t said a word to me, but in all honesty, there wasn’t time.” She walked away from him, then turned, her hands fisted at her sides. “No, there was time, but damn him, he’s always trying to protect me. He knew something hinky was going on, and he kept it to himself. I will have to seriously consider hurting him for that.”
    She picked up Ramsey’s limp hand. “He’s so strong,” she said, more to herself than to him, “so tough, always a rock, you know?” A beautiful man, she’d always thought, with his dark hair and brilliant dark eyes, and his laugh, his seductive laugh. “Can you believe we’ve been married for five years? Goodness, Emma’s eleven and the boys are three. The boys are scared, Dillon, they don’t understand.” Her voice hitched, then smoothed out again. “Emma’s taking care of them. She’s more their second mother than their older sister. The babysitter, Mrs. Hicks, is with them, too.” She raised wet eyes to Savich’s face. “They won’t let the boys come see him, Dillon, and that only makes them more scared.”
    Ramsey moaned deep in his throat.
    She leaned over him, lightly kissed his cheek. “Ramsey? You have a visitor. Come, wake up now.”
    His eyes opened slowly, blind and empty of knowledge, but they cleared slowly and focused. Savich leaned close. “I’d rather we were fishing in Lake Tahoe and I was catching that four-pound trout and you weren’t.”
    An attempt at a smile, but he didn’t quite make it. “I don’t remember it just like that.”
    “Okay, I’ll give you the trout since you were the one who fried the sucker. It’s nice to have you here with us, either way.”
    Ramsey whispered, “Molly?”
    “I’m here,” she said, squeezing his hand.
    Ramsey looked back at Dillon, and now his voice was stronger, some of the familiar steel sounding through. “I remember now, someone shot me.”
    Molly said, “You were turning when I called out to you and someone shot you in the back.”
    “I went down like a rock, lights out,” he said. He looked thoughtful. “I was shot once before in the leg—and, you know, wherever you’re shot, it doesn’t feel too good.” He closed his eyes against a vicious lick of pain. “My chest feels like it’s been flattened by an eighteen-wheeler.”
    Savich put the morphine plunger in his hand. “Squeeze this, it’s your PLA, and it’ll cut the pain.”
    Ramsey had never seen one before. He closed his eyes in gratitude and pressed the button. They both waited silently until he said, “That’s better already. I can control this if I don’t move too much.”
    Savich said, “I’m glad you turned when you did. Do you know what direction the shot came from?”
    Ramsey looked blank. “The direction? I suppose it had to be from the ocean. Someone in a boat? It’s hard to imagine someone firing at me from a boat, what with all the motion from the waves. That would take a professional, and still I can’t imagine it’d be a sure thing.”
    Savich said, “Did you see a boat?”
    Ramsey looked perfectly blank, not totally with them, and then pain hit him again, and he went stone silent.
    Savich said, “You feel a little muddled, Ramsey, don’t worry about it. The important thing is you’re alive, and you’re going to get better every day.”
    “The Cahills?”
    “It’s possible. We’re checking.”
    “I don’t know why, Savich. Do you?”
    “We don’t know yet, either.”
    “Have they found the prosecutor, Mickey O’Rourke?”
    “Not yet.”
    Molly lightly shoved Savich away when Ramsey’s eyes closed. She whispered next to his cheek, “I want you to think about healing yourself, Ramsey. Think about tossing me and Emma around on the mat—you need to get better to do that. And you need a shave.”
    He managed a rictus of a grin.
    ICU nurse Janine Holder said from the doorway, “I like the dark whiskers. They make him look tough and dangerous. Dr. Kardak is here to