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my files and I’ll get back to you.”
    Overson didn’t look pleased.
    “This isn’t a game,” Slade growled at her. “Turn your files over and let me take you someplace safe until this nut is caught.”
    “And what if he or she is never caught?” She looked to the detective. “How much time do you have to devote to my case?”
    “I’ve got a pretty heavy caseload,” Overson admitted. “But I’ll give it priority.”
    “For about a day or two,” she returned. “You’ll interview my clients, ruin my chances of ever getting another one, and probably come up with nothing. I’m a trained police officer. I was on the Lubbock force before I came here. The minute I even think I’ve got a whiff of a suspect, I’ll contact you.”
    “I don’t like it. I could get a court order. If someone is after you, you’re hindering my investigation.”
    “And I’ll tell the judge that you don’t even honestly believe someone is after me…that you’re invading my privacy and the privacy of my clients on a fishing expedition when you don’t even think there is a fish to be caught.”
    He didn’t refute her words. After a long moment he said, “We’ll collect what evidence we can here just in case someone is after you. As for the shooting incident, everything points to it being a mob hit. Truth is, we turned that investigation over to the federal task force. They wanted it and, like I said, we’re overworked as it is. But I’ll take another look at the evidence.”
    Slade wanted to insist that Lisa turn her files over to the police, but he knew from the look in her eyes that she was determined to investigate this herself. He also couldn’t fault her reasoning. The police would take a look, but if they couldn’t come up with a suspect right away, her case would go on the back burner.
    The detective started to walk away, hesitated, then returned. “In case I’m wrong and you’re right, you take care of yourself. Watch your back.”
    “I’ll be doing that,” Slade assured him.
    Overson nodded and walked away.
    Lisa sat quietly. She had her own plans for how to handle this situation, but this was not the time or place to confront Slade.
    “So who wants to kill you?” Slade asked as they were being driven away from the scene.
    Lisa gave him a wry look. “Don’t you think I would have told Detective Overson if I knew.”
    “As I recall, you were always a stickler for detail. Even if you had a suspicion, you’d wait until you had proof before you would name anyone. That was a dangerous game then and it’s a doubly dangerous game now.”
    “I have never liked putting innocent people on the hot seat.”
    “So you do have someone in mind?” he persisted, studying her narrowly.
    She breathed a frustrated sigh. “No. I honestly have no clue. I assume it has something to do with one of my cases, but none of them, on the surface, seems that volatile.”
    “No unhappy clients?”
    “Not really.”
    “Did you uncover some information for a client that might make someone else angry?”
    “Could be. There was a divorce case where I found some hidden assets, but that was several months ago.”
    Another thought struck Slade. “Or maybe it’s someone you helped send to jail while you were on the force in Texas.”
    Lisa’s jaw tensed. “Well, whoever it is, they’re going to be sorry when I catch up with them.”
    Slade started to inform her that hell would freeze over before he allowed her to actually go looking for her assailant. But, deciding he didn’t want an audience for what he knew would be a heated debate, he chose not to argue with her at that moment.
    “What happened?” Helen demanded, rushing out of the house as the police car pulled into the driveway and Lisa and Slade climbed out.
    “Whoever tried to kill her before, tried again,” Slade said. “This time he tried to run her down.” Just saying the words sent a fresh chill down his spine.
    Helen paled. “I thought she was just in the