Free Hearts in the Crosshairs by Susan Page Davis

uncomfortable over that. But if the shooter put it out of commission, why didn’t he wait to do it until the day he shot at you? The chances of its being repaired were high.”
    Jillian’s eyes widened. “Maybe he planned to strike earlier. Maybe he was up there a couple of nights before, but I didn’t present him with a target. Surely he went up to look the place over and see if it was a good spot for his purposes.”
    “Yes. I’ve thought about that. The night he shot at you was the first night in more than a week that you’d gone out and come in fairly late. He might have waited on other evenings for an opportunity.”
    “Or he might have gained access to my schedule.”
    Dave hated to admit it, but she was right. “Yes, that’s possible.”
    Her whole body shook as she exhaled. Dave wished more than ever that protocol did not stand between them. Against his better judgment, he reached across the desk and put his handon hers. She met his gaze with a warmth in her eyes that made him want to pull her into his arms.
    “You’re doing great,” he said softly. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
     
    Former Senator Joseph Armstrong cut an imposing figure in his tuxedo. Dave took the silver-haired icon’s measure as they waited in the reception room for Jillian. Three terms in Washington and many years of service to Maine before that, as commissioner of economic development and then attorney general. He was highly respected in local, state and federal circles and served on the board of at least five corporations, though he’d officially listed himself as “retired” for ten years. He’d turned down a nomination by the last governor for State of Maine Supreme Court Justice.
    “I understand you’ve known the governor for a long time, sir.” Dave stood with the senator before one of the fireplaces with a glass of iced tea in his hand. Jillian had apparently instructed the staff that she wanted no alcohol served in the mansion during her tenure. Dave didn’t mind, but that news didn’t sit as well with Armstrong. Dave flicked a glance every few seconds toward the door that led into the sunroom. Detective Ryan Mills stood near the doorway on the east end of the room, unobtrusively watching the hall beyond.
    “Yes, I took Brendon Goff under my wing when he was still in law school. He clerked for me for a short time, and he was one of the best clerks I’ve ever had. And Jillian—well, she was just as bright. A shining star.”
    Dave smiled. “They made a stellar couple, I guess.”
    The senator nodded gravely. “Unbounded potential in those two. Brendon’s death was a terrible blow, not only for those who knew him. This country lost a potential statesman of unknown scope.”
    “Yes,” Dave murmured.
    Armstrong sipped his drink and focused on the far doorway. “Ah, but we still have Jillian.”
    Dave smiled. “Indeed we do, sir.”
    “I’m sure she has a brilliant future ahead. I’ve advised her occasionally these last couple of years. She’s come to me with a few questions as to how to get things done without ruffling too many feathers. Not that she’d be opposed to ruffling feathers.” Armstrong chuckled. “I’ve told her more than once to be patient and not expect to change policy overnight.”
    Dave considered that. He understood from the news reports he’d read and even their private conversations that Jillian hoped to leave her mark during her administration. She was bent on bringing the state’s economy to a healthier level. Maine had suffered economic depression long enough.
    “I just hope you boys can keep her safe so she can to do some good.”
    “Yes, sir. We’re being extravigilant.”
    “Jillian should be able to go out and enjoy an evening, but still—can’t say I’m a hundred percent confident she ought to just now, with this lunatic on the loose.”
    Andrew stepped into the hall, and Dave heard a low murmur of voices. A moment later, Penny Thurlow entered,