Kara’s hand squeezed his. “It’s eight in the morning,” she said softly. “You slept through the night.”
He tried to shift and sit up. “The dogs?”
“Daryl has them,” Kara answered.
“Okay, so the three of them decided to shoot up the farmer’s market. Why?” he asked.
“To get to you is our guess,” Stephen answered.
“Shit, my lawyer’s here too?” he asked, trying to blink his eyes clear. “Why can’t I see?”
“You’ve got a pretty bad concussion,” Kara answered. “The doctor says your vision may be blurry for a few days and you may be dizzy as well.”
“Did they think they could shoot me in the market?” he asked. “Why? To kill me to get their hands on the ranch?”
“My guess is payback. I guarantee they were drunk or high when they plotted it. So far, we haven’t found any of them,” Kyle said.
“Which is why you have a full police guard now,” Gary added. “I was just relieving Kyle and filling him in.”
“Gotcha.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “What does the doc say about food?”
“I’ll tell the nurse you’re hungry,” Kara said as she got up and left the room.
“Nick.” Stephen moved closer. “Your uncle was in the courthouse when I filled that paperwork yesterday. We estimate it was two hours after that when you were attacked and the barn was set fire to.”
He tried to think back on how long it took him to muck out the stalls before he’d been hit over the head. “Yeah, sounds about right. Two maybe three hours.” He nodded. “Do I have my phone? I could give you an exact time. I took a picture of Wilbur just before someone hit me over the head. The photo would be time stamped.”
“Kara has it. We found it in the snow outside the barn.”
Just then the door to the room opened again.
“Here, I brought some Jell-O for now and some water,” Kara said.
“Do you have my phone?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she said, and a moment later, it was placed in his hands. “I can’t see a damn thing. Can you open my photos and let them know when the last photo of Wilbur was taken?”
The room grew quiet and then there was a combined gasp.
“What?” He sat up, almost dislodging the Jell-O she’d given him.
“There are two pictures here. Your phone must have gone off again when you got hit,” Kara answered. “Nick, there’s a picture of your uncle holding my dad’s sledgehammer.”
“We’ll get another warrant,” Kyle said dryly. “Send us a copy of that, would you?”
He heard Kara clicking his phone and then the whoosh of the photo being sent.
“What happens now?” Kara asked.
“Now, you two sit back and let us do our jobs. We’ll keep a guard on your room until you’re released,” Gary said. “Or until your uncle and the others are picked up.”
“Thanks.” He held out his hand and a few seconds later, someone shook it.
“Get some rest, son,” Kyle said. “I’ll be right outside.”
“Thanks,” Kara added.
“I’ll leave you two as well. I only came down to inform you that… Well, we can talk once you’re home. Merry Christmas,” Stephen said and then left.