“Along with your wallet and truck.”

“Right . . . but they found those. Right before you came in I was told my truck turned up in the Walmart parking lot with the wallet on the seat. Of course, the cash and credit cards were missing. The police didn’t know to look for my vehicle until I told them.”

“One positive thing.”

“I’m still breathing. I’d also call that a positive. Although by the way my wife reacted when I talked to her today, you’d think I’d be better off dead.”

“A little upset?”

“Furious.” He grinned. “Jaime’s always claimed I’m going to piss off the wrong person and get shot one day.”

“Smart lady. Now who did you call yesterday?”

He closed his eyes again and recited, “I called Ava, I called the Bend FBI office, the Portland Police Department, Detective Bolton at Deschutes County, the Bend state police office, and Judge Lake’s assistant in Portland. I called Brenda Lake and tried to reach Gabriel Lake—”

“What did you get out of Brenda Lake?”

“She told me to stop calling or she’d call her lawyer.”

“Who I assume is Gabriel Lake.”

“Most likely.”

“But nothing came out of those phone calls that you think would make someone want to shoot you?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Then perhaps you were the victim of a robbery, since your cash and cards are gone. We can’t rule that out.”

“Too reasonable,” muttered Michael. “I don’t like it.”

“It doesn’t seem likely, but I can’t disregard the possibility. Why were you at the park?”

“I have no idea.”

“What?”

Michael grimaced and shifted his legs under the hospital blanket. “I don’t remember going there. The last thing I remember is driving in town.” He pointed at the wrap on his head. “I suspect this has something to do with my short-term memory loss. I’m stunned that I can remember every phone call from yesterday but can’t remember anything I did past four o’clock.”

“So the identity of your shooter might be buried in your brain.”

“They say I was shot from the back, so maybe I didn’t see him.”

“Or her.”

“Or her,” Michael agreed. “Apparently I have a hard skull. Tough enough to deflect a bullet . . . a poorly aimed bullet.”

“Something to brag to your wife about.”

“I think she already knows. The doctor said even though the bullet didn’t crack the bone, the deflected impact was enough to cause swelling inside my skull. Hopefully after the swelling goes down, I’ll get that chunk of memory back.”

“How much pain are you in?”

“A lot. And my ear is constantly ringing, and each time I turn my head, fireworks go off in my brain. You try getting shot in the head.”

“I’ve had my share of near-death experiences.”

“That’s right. I remember reading your history.”

“Try to remember who shot you.”

An annoyed glare was his answer.

Questions ricocheted in Truman’s brain. Is Michael’s shooting related? Did he rattle the Lake and Sabin killer? The whole situation made him very uncomfortable, and he knew the FBI would want to know as soon as possible.

“Are you okay with me notifying Mercy, Ava, and Jeff now? I’ll give them your reasons for keeping it quiet.”

“Yes, let them know. I think it was our murderer trying to add one more victim to his list.”

Who would shoot the reporter?

Mercy understood how Michael Brody could annoy a lot of people, but enough to kill him? As she drove back from Christian’s home, her mind attempted to process why their killer would shoot Michael. According to the phone call she’d just had with Truman, Michael believed he pushed someone’s buttons with his investigation of the deaths.

He might have been very close to an answer.

Entering her office, she pulled off her coat and scarf, and her cell phone rang.

Ava.

“Did you hear about Michael?” were the first words out of Ava’s mouth. Elevated concern rang in her tone.

“I did. I talked to Truman a few minutes ago.”

“Michael has a good point about keeping the shooting quiet,” Ava admitted. “I like the thought of our murderer getting cocky, believing he’s cleaned up behind himself. Maybe he’ll make more mistakes. The fact that he shot Michael instead of taking his time with a knife could mean he’s getting impatient.”

“Was Rob Murray killed because he caused him a problem too?” asked Mercy.

“I think so. Either Rob saw or knew something about one of the first two deaths. I suspect it was Olivia Sabin’s death, since hers was in his vicinity. I’m surprised he didn’t say anything when Truman showed up on his doorstep.”

“I think that indicates Rob wasn’t aware he’d seen something important to the killer.”

“Could Rob have been involved with the murders?” Ava wondered.

Both women were silent for a moment as they processed theories.

“The doctors say Michael will be okay.” Relief filled Ava’s tone. “He might never get that chunk of short-term memory back, but it appears to be a small time period that is missing. He can deal with that.”

“He got too close,” stated Mercy. “Just like Rob.”

“I agree. I told the investigating detective that the FBI is interested in his shooting and he gave me a list of phone calls Michael made yesterday. I hope I can shake something loose. This investigation is taking too long.”

Mercy remembered Olivia Sabin’s hand in hers and shuddered. “I don’t disagree with you. No one wants this killer found more than me.”

“How was your talk with Gabriel Lake?”

She gave Ava an overview, summarizing that Gabriel had no information about his father’s activities before his death.

“Did you talk to Judge Lake’s assistant yet?” Mercy asked hopefully. She was tired of dead ends.

“We did this morning. She swore there were no off-the-book visits and that every visitor and meeting had been logged.”

“Maybe Michael’s information was wrong,” said Mercy. “He didn’t have anything to back up his claim about a mystery guest.”

“True, but I’m going with my gut that there’s something here. Eddie’s finally been able to view the video from the hall outside the judge’s office door and compare the people to the visitors list.”

“Sounds dull.”

“He’s made that very clear.” Amusement rang in Ava’s voice. “He told me that it’s not as simple as it sounds. Various office workers from all over the big building are in and out of the office nonstop, and of course they aren’t logged in. He had to recruit an employee from one of the other offices to help identify them. Delivery people are causing issues too. Eddie was momentarily excited about a lunchtime visitor with long, dark hair who wasn’t logged in until his helper identified the Thai delivery bag in the mystery woman’s hand.”

“Ugh. Do you think the judge’s assistant is lying?”

Ava was silent for a moment. “I’m not sure. I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt.”