Free Hart To Hart by Vella Day Page B

jacket, she rushed outside. Trent looked up at her and jogged toward her.
    “You remember something?” He looked hopeful.
    “In a way. After I put the first suitcase in the room, I went outside to retrieve my second case. This time I pulled my hood over my head because the wind was intense. I also was looking at the ground to make sure I didn’t slip.”
    “And you think your shooter mistook you for someone else? Your mother perhaps?”
    Damn, but he was good. “Yes.” She straightened her shoulders.
    “I’ll make a note of it. Regardless of whether this person was out to harm you or your mom, it’s not safe to be here alone.”
    “If I can’t go back home and I can’t stay here, what do you suggest?”
    “You can stay with me.”
    *     *     *
    Vic’s cell rang and when he saw it was Trent, tension knots bunched his shoulders. While Trent, as well as Max Gruden, had been instrumental in bringing down Ed Hanson and his group of terrorists, Vic usually only spoke with Trent when he needed the RHPD’s help or they needed his expertise.
    “Trent?” Perhaps he’d found the identity of the man who’d run him off the road. That would be great.
    “Vic, I’m afraid there’s been an incident at your house.”
    “What, someone spray paint graffiti on the walls? Is it if-at-first-you-don’t-succeed-try-try-again-kind-of-thing?” That was what happened at his crime scene. He almost chuckled. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. Fuck me .
    “I’m afraid not. This is serious. Your daughter came to your house to nurse you back to health. Someone took a shot at her but missed.”
    All cheer disappeared as Vic’s blood ran cold. He edged over to the hotel bed and sat down. El looked up at him with pinched brows. He held up a finger. “She okay?”
    “She’s a bit shaken, but she’s holding it together.” Trent detailed how she was taking her suitcase from her car, when someone fired into the car window. “She was smart enough to run into the house, lock the doors, and call us.”
    “I trust she didn’t see who it was?”
    “’Fraid not. Charlotte has a theory that because her head was down, and she was wearing a hoodie, the person might have confused her with her mom.”
    Fuck. “Where’s Charlotte now?”
    “We’re all at your house.”
    “We’ll be right there.” He disconnected the call and looked up at his ex-wife. “Charlotte’s unharmed.” He wanted to start with the good news. He then relayed what Trent had told him.
    El slumped back against her chair. “Why? Why would someone want to harm her?”
    Vic stood. “That is the sixty-four thousand dollar question. If we want answers, we need to head on over there.”
    “Should we pack our bags?”
    He wasn’t sure where it would be safest to stay. “I want to hear what Trent has to say first. Then we can decide.”
    El stood and grabbed her coat. “My poor baby. Charlotte must be beside herself.”
    “I would be if someone took a pot shot at me.”
    His pain ran deep. While Vic didn’t have proof, it was looking more and more likely that the perpetrator was after him. El and Charlotte might have been distractions to keep Vic off balance. The biggest chink to his theory was that El had been targeted in Virginia before anything happened to him. Then again, Vic had worked out of the Washington, D.C. office for years. He’d just have to figure out who he’d pissed off enough to do this, and why target his ex-wife? Why wait so long for retaliation? He’d been gone from the area close to a year.
    He could only hope his former FBI boss, Ted Knowlton, might be able to provide some answers, but first, he wanted details from Trent. Neither said much on the drive to his house, other than him providing El directions.
    She slapped the wheel. “I told Charlotte not to come. If she’d listened, she’d be safe now.” El glanced over at Vic. “She takes after you, you know.”
    He nodded. “She believes in justice.”
    Flashing