Free A Randall Returns by Judy Christenberry Page A

scrubs the man was wearing. A surge of jealousy struck him and he fought it down before he reached them.
    “Oh, Mike, you’re here. This is Dr. George Kenny.”
    Mike took his hand in a firm shake.
    “Mike is the sheriff in Rawhide. He disarmed the shooter and prevented anyone else from being injured.”
    “Good thing you were there, Sheriff. You and Caroline. She saved that young woman’s life.”
    “Yes, she did. Is there anything else to be done, Doctor? Our night’s been rather eventful, and we’re both tired.”
    “Of course. No, we have everything under control.”
    After they shook hands again, Mike led Caroline out to the SUV. “Want me to drive?”
    She’d been determined to be independent. But the night’s events seemed to make such rules silly. “That would be wonderful.”
    He helped her in and then circled the truck to get behind the wheel. “Do you smell our dinner? It’s on the back seat.”
    Caroline looked over her shoulder, surprised. “I smelled roast beef, but I thought I was imagining it.”
    “I thought maybe we could eat once we finish up with the repercussions of tonight.”
    “We have to tell Holly’s parents she’s been arrested?”
    “I told the policeman we’d do that. It will come easier from us than it would from a stranger on the phone. And you said Eric worked for your uncle?”
    “Yes. I’ll call him now before they go to bed.” She pulled out a cell phone as Mike drove, listening to her end of the conversation.
    “Uncle Griff? It’s Caroline.” She gave him all the details of the night’s events. “No, I don’t know the woman’s name,” she replied to Griff’s question.
    “We went through her purse,” Mike said. “It’s Serena Samuels. She lives in Buffalo.”
    Caroline repeated the information. “No, we’re going to Holly’s parents’ home now to tell them in person.” She looked at Mike with a question in her eyes, and he nodded.
    “Yes, it will be easier for them. Thanks, Uncle Griff.”
    Mike glanced at her quickly. “Is your uncle going to notify Eric’s next of kin?”
    “Yes. He says he has the information on file. He thinks Eric’s from a little town in southern Colorado.” She sat there, staring straight ahead. “He’s always played around. When he hooked up with Holly, several people warned him not to break her heart. But I guess he did, anyway.”
    “I guess so. People don’t change just because other people tell them to.”
    “No.”
    “We learned something tonight.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “We have some things in common.”
    “What’s that?”
    “We don’t stop working when five o’clock comes around. Even if we’re not in uniform, we both respond to people in need.” He kept his eyes on the road.
    “I guess that’s true. But you had the dangerous part. She could’ve shot you.”
    Mike shrugged it off. “Honey, I’m six foot four, and Holly was five-one or -two and probably a hundred pounds.”
    “A bullet doesn’t care,” Caroline said harshly. She’d learned that lesson in Chicago.
    “True, but I didn’t give her a chance to shoot me.”
    “I know,” Caroline whispered. “I’m glad.”
    Instead of continuing the conversation, Mike reached out and took her hand. They rode silently into the night.
    When they reached Rawhide, Caroline directed himto Holly’s parents’ house. The Gambils were a quiet couple, liked and respected by their neighbors. Caroline dreaded telling them what their daughter had done.
    “Do you want to stay in the car?” Mike asked, as if he’d read her mind.
    “I’d love to, but I’m not going to do that.” With a sigh, she pulled her hand free from his and got out of the SUV. They walked up the sidewalk and rapped on the door.
    Mr. Gambil was considerably older than Caroline’s father; in fact, he looked a little frail. His wife was small and quiet. They both stared at Caroline and Mike, surprise on their faces.
    “Hello, Sheriff, Caroline,” the man