New Tricks by David Rosenfelt

Laurie’s condition.
    The food is set up in self-serve-buffet style, and I choose what appears to be either very dark-colored chicken or very light-colored
     meat loaf. The first few bites don’t shed much light on the question, so I decide just to shovel it in quickly and get back
     upstairs.
    I’m almost finished when I look up and see Pete Stanton, who was just upstairs looking for me and inquiring about Laurie’s
     condition. “You up for talking about the case?” he asks.
    “Sure,” I say, somewhat reluctantly. I desperately want the shooter to be caught and punished, but I also have this need for
     my mind to be focused on Laurie’s recovery. It’s stupid, I know, but it feels like if I relax my concentration on her and
     her condition, she could suffer for it. I know better, but I feel on some level as if my power of thought is helpful to her.
    “Our feeling is that the shooter was a pro,” Pete says. “He used a Luger thirty-eight, not exactly your gangbanger’s weapon
     of choice. And he only took one shot, which means he was confident it was all he’d need.”
    “But he pretty much missed,” I say. “He couldn’t have wanted to shoot her in the leg. If it hadn’t hit an artery, she’d be
     out jogging by now.”
    “Right. But your neighbor said that just before the shot, she was kneeling down in front of one of the dogs, petting it. The
     neighbor called to her and she stood up, just as the shot was fired. It could be that the shooter was aiming low, and missed
     because she stood up.”
    It’s certainly possible, though at this point unknowable. “So if it was a pro, then it wasn’t random, and it wasn’t cheap.
     Whoever was gunning for Laurie had the money to hire help.”
    “Right,” he says. “You got any idea who that might be?”
    “She’s a chief of police, Pete. She could have made a lot of enemies.”
    “I called her second in command in Findlay, a Captain Blair. He says that the whole town is praying for Laurie; they’ve organized
     a candlelight vigil.”
    “Did he say she’s a fighter?” I ask.
    “Yeah… how’d you know that?”
    “Never mind.”
    “He’s going through all the files and talking to everybody in the department, but he doubts the shooter had anything to do
     with Findlay. I tend to think he’s right.”
    “Why?”
    “It doesn’t make sense. Why come here to do it, when they could have done it there, probably easier? It wasn’t like she was
     leaving there forever; she had a job, so they would know she’d be back.”
    “She was also a cop here, Pete. And an investigator after that. That should give you a long list of possibilities.”
    He nods. “And we’re checking them out. I was just wondering if it could be a result of any case she worked on for you.”
    “Off the top of my head, no. But I’ll give it some thought.”
    “Good,” he says, standing up. “You feel like coming down to Charlie’s for a beer? Might do you good, and they’ll call you
     if there’s any news.”
    I shake my head. “I’d rather stay here.”
    He nods. “Vince said you’d say that. You speak to him?”
    “This morning,” I say.
    “I’ve never seen him this upset. He got his paper to offer a reward.”
    “He’s a better guy than he lets on,” I say.
    Pete grins. “I won’t tell him you said that.”

A NURSE WAKES ME at three o’clock in the morning.
    I experience an instant wave of panic, which is just as quickly relieved by the fact that the nurse looks excited and pleased.
     “Mr. Carpenter, come with me. Your wife is responding to stimuli.”
    I throw off the covers and rush out into the hall before the laughing nurse makes me realize that I’m in my underwear. I go
     back to the room and put on my pants, since the last thing I need is a floorful of sexually aroused nurses, ogling me. I’m
     still zipping up as I go back into the hall.
    They let me in Laurie’s room for the first time, and I am disappointed to see that she is still