Nervous after the gunshot, D’Shea backed out of the ranger’s driveway and headed to the road. The camp gate was ajar, the padlock hanging loose, affording them an easy exit. As she pulled onto the road, D’Shea considered how odd it was that Dale would leave the lock hanging, but getting to the police station to report what happened was higher on her priority list than trying to puzzle out the hanging lock. The trip was a blur as both D’Shea and Evie replayed how close the shot had come to hitting them. “I’m sure that had nothing to do with the May incident,” Evie said finally, her voice shaky. Am I trying to convince D’Shea or myself?
Wearing a grim expression, D’Shea only nodded as they pulled up and parked in front of the police station in downtown Fieldston. Before getting out of the car, D’Shea dialed the ranger’s number again. If it was an accident, I’m not going to report it. Maybe he was taking target practice and missed. As quickly as the thought crossed D’Shea’s mind, she classified it as unlikely. Hitting the end button, she turned to Evie and said, “Dale still isn’t answering. Am I nuts or does it seem weird he’d leave, knowing we were in camp—and leave the gate lock hanging? Please tell me I’m overreacting, hon.”
Evie shook her head and touched D’Shea’s arm. “I’m afraid you and I are on the same wavelength on this. It’s out of character based on the few interactions I had with him last spring. But,” she paused and drew out her thought, “the police may not think so. Let’s not go too far down that path until we talk with them.”
Evie and D’Shea stood impatiently in front of the desk sergeant waiting for him to finish his phone call, which seemed to be taking forever. “How can I help you two girls?” the sergeant finally asked after disconnecting the call.
“I need to report a shooting,” D’Shea said hurriedly, ignoring her flare of irritation at his demeaning language.
COLLAPSE 
