“He hit me and kicked me,” she said. “Is he dead? Did I kill him?”

    “He’s not dead,” Pete said. “But he’s done. You took a little blood out of him.”

    She sighed. “Is he going to the hospital, too?”

    “Not the same one you’re going to, don’t worry. He’s going to have a couple of FBI agents and some state troopers with him.”

    “God, I wish I’d killed him,” she whispered.

    “Nah, you don’t want that burden, too. But you gave him to us—you’re a hero.”

    “No, I’m a survivor,” she said in a hoarse whisper. Again, her eyes closed. Pete was moving around.

    Then there was a new presence. She opened her eyes to look into the piercing beautiful blue of Conrad’s eyes. “Hey, baby,” he said. “Open your eyes and let me look at them, okay? Good, good,” he said, shining a light in them. “You still need a head CT but I think you’re going to be okay.” He took her blood pressure. “Yeah, you’ll be okay now. Sorry I couldn’t get here any faster,” he said, wiping off her face. Coming into focus now, she noticed the wipe he used was bloody. “Just a few battle scars.”

    She smiled into those remarkable eyes. “Connie,” she whispered. “I nailed him.”

    * * *

    Sierra went all the way to Denver by ambulance so her sister-in-law could examine her and read the head CT. She would have been taken by medical air transfer if Connie had found anything in her preliminary exam that was questionable. Maggie chose to keep her overnight for observation and Conrad stayed with her, wouldn’t leave her side. Then in the morning before she was discharged, she had more company. Cal was back, as he had intended to be, but with him was Dakota.

    “Boy, what some chicks will do for attention,” Dakota said, taking her into his big arms and hugging her.

    “Don’t call me a chick,” she said. “I’m dangerous.”

    “So I hear. Good for you.”

    “Aren’t you late for a war?” she asked.

    “I’m not late yet. All your drama kind of demanded a visit before I head out again. I thought maybe you could give me some tips in kicking ass.”

    “You came to the right person,” she said.

    He touched her cheek. “You have a wicked black eye.”

    “I didn’t say it was easy. Do you want to come to the Crossing with us? It turns out some of Sully’s campers were actually FBI agents and I’ve been promised a debriefing, which is dangerous-chick talk for an explanation as to how all this crazy shit went down.”

    “Oh, I wouldn’t miss it. And that’s all I’ve got—the day. I have to get back to Fort Hood. I can’t let them leave without me. They made the mistake of putting me in charge. I’m going to rent a car so I can come back to Denver later tonight.”

    “Forget about it,” Cal said. “I’ll take you back. I don’t want you alone and getting tired. You’re jet-lagged and worn-out. I’ll stay at Maggie’s place and rest before I drive back.”

    “I think he’s going to be a little overprotective as a father, don’t you?” Dakota asked Sierra.

    “No help for it,” she said. “Number one sibling put himself in charge many years ago.” She smiled at Cal. “I don’t think he’ll do any real harm.”

    They worked it out so that Conrad drove Cal’s truck with Sierra and Dakota because he couldn’t stand to be away from her for five minutes. And Sierra and Dakota were due a visit. Cal drove back with Maggie. Of course that meant Connie sitting through another recitation of all the events that led up to the capture of a serial rapist named Craig Dixon. Fortunately for him, Sierra was not quite as graphic with this brother.

    “Are you going to be all right now?” Dakota asked.

    “One in five women is sexually assaulted. Some figures claim one in four. Yes, I’m going to be all right. It stole a year and a half of my life. I’m not letting it have any more than that.”

    “Plus, she got a little payback,” Connie said.

    When they got back to Sully’s there were four campers waiting for them. The first thing Pete wanted to show Sierra was the inside of Priscilla and Clyde’s RV. Even though there was quite a crowd waiting for an explanation, only Sierra was taken inside the RV. Behind a closet pocket door were some computer screens that were operated by electricity and WiFi, controlled by laptop computer and tablets and smartphones. “This is a surveillance van,” Pete said.

    “You had him under surveillance?” Sierra asked.

    “No, we had you under surveillance,” he said. “Our suspect had a pattern. He picked up strangers in bars all over the map, played the role of a rescuer in taking them home when they appeared to have had too much to drink, brutalized and raped them, threatened their lives if they told anyone, stalked them, and then to be absolutely sure, he found an opportunity to assault them again, proving to them he was in control and they would be punished for going to the police. At last count we know he assaulted seven women in three states. I’m sure there were more, probably at least twice as many. His first known victim was fifteen years ago when he was a heating and AC repairman, aged twenty. But, you were the only one who ran, that we know of. And you ran far and deep. You really threw him off his game. Not only did he have trouble finding you but when he got in the general vicinity, you were never vulnerable. You didn’t live alone, you didn’t go out to bars, you were always one step ahead of him. Sierra, we think he was obsessed with carrying out his ritual, for lack of a better word.”

    “So you were stalking me?” she asked.