Free Perfect Victim, The by Castillo Linda Page A

sliding down the side of his face.
     
    "You ' re bleeding." Surprising herself, she pulled a napkin from the counter and pressed it against his cheek.
     
    "Piece of - glass caught me."
     
    Because of his height , Addison had to step close to see the cut . " Hurt?" she asked .
     
    "Not much."
     
    She forced a laugh . It was either that or cry. "You'd say that if you were gushing buckets, wouldn't you?"
     
    "No, I hate pain . I'm a weenie from the word go." Clasping her wrist , he lowered her hand from his cheek . "You're shaking . "
     
    "Call me weird, but flying bullets and masked gunmen scare die hell out of me."
     
    He regarded her through shuttered eyes . " You ' re pale, too. Maybe you ought to sit down."
     
    "No . I'm okay . I want to stand . Jesus, I'm alive. I'm pretty happy about that."
     
    "Just don ' t faint, all right?" He didn't look pleased by the possibility.
     
    "I don't plan to . " She struggled to absorb the full impact ' of what had happened , realizing be l atedly that she probably did need to sit down. "If you hadn't been here, I'd be dead right now."
     
    "And to think you wanted to throw me out . "
     
    "You saved my life . "
     
    "Just doing what any self-respecting P . I . would do . "
     
    Addis on stared at him . He stared back, his face as inscrutable as stone. There were a hundred things that needed to be said, but at the moment she didn't trust her voice to say any of them, let alone to this man whose actions had just turned her opinion of him on its ear.
     
    The police arrived ten minutes later. Addison stood next to the bar, watching helplessly as a swarm of cops in blue uniforms tramped over what was left of her coffee shop. She felt as if she'd stepped onto the set of a horror movie. A set complete with a down-and-out private detective and a villain in black that had nearly sent her to an early grave.
     
    "Ma'am?"
     
    Addison started at the sound of the voice and turned to face the man who'd approached her. He wore a nicely-cut suit, and she knew immediately he was a police detective. She guessed him-to be in his mid-forties. He had the beginnings of a paunch and short brown hair that was thinning at the top, graying on the sides. His hands were small and pudgy, fast-moving because he was excited. Bright blue eyes were red-rimmed as if he were prone to allergies. He was staring at her, his expression an odd combination of type-A impatience and shabbily concealed male appreciation.
     
    "I'm Detective Adam Van-Dyne." He offered a handshake.
     
    Uttering her name, she raised her hand to his. "Are you in charge?" she asked.
     
    "I'm the primary." Grimacing, he looked toward the damaged bar. "You own this place?"
     
    ''What's left of it."
     
    "You look like you could use a chair and something to drink."
     
    She nodded and allowed him to guide her to a nearby bistro table. He pulled out a chair and she sank into it, aware that a bullet had taken a chunk of wood out of the backrest.
     
    "What happened?" he asked.
     
    Leaning forward, she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "Jesus, it doesn't seem real. It happened so fast."
     
    "That's the way it goes sometimes. Takes a while for something like this to sink in."
     
    Addison recounted the shooting in a low, raspy voice that didn't sound at all like her own. By the time she finished, her hands were shaking so badly she could barely grip the cup of water a un i formed policeman had brought her.
     
    Van-Dyne leaned back in his chair and flipped through the pad where he'd jotted notes. ''The convenience store two streets over got hit last week," he said. ''Thug got about a hundred bucks and change."
     
    "Was anyone hurt?" she asked.
     
    "No, but he shot up the place." The ' detective looked around her shop. "Similar M . O . "
     
    "You think it's the same guy?"
     
    "Probably." He toyed with the napkin holder on the table between them. "A witness reported seeing a chrome pistol . Suspect wore a black coat