Part 17 (2/2)

”Oh, s.h.i.+t. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” I levered myself up. Bad mistake. The world went all wobbly for a second and when it settled, I was on all fours, kneeling beside Jennings. At least he was blinking and mumbling.

A medic shouldered me aside and bent over him, muttering about friendly fire.

Morales knelt next to me, but not too close.

”You okay?” he said.

I grimaced as the fog in my head cleared out. The truck...

”Windler? Nokes?” I twisted around to look, making my head spin, and ended up slumped back on my a.s.s.

”The guys in the truck? They got out the gate. We probably hit the driver with a couple of shots, but we didn't have time to set up a blockade. They're gone, but they won't get far.” Morales reached out carefully and lifted my chin up to the lights, looked at my eyes. ”You weren't breathing,” he said. ”No pulse.”

”Just shock,” I said. ”It wasn't as bad as it looked.” It was. Or would have been for anyone else. ”Anyway, heart and lungs working now.”

”You need to get to the hospital?”

”Thanks, but I don't like hospitals.” I flexed my shoulders. ”Nothing but b.u.mps and bruises anyway.” My shoulders twinged and I stifled a hiss. A lot of b.u.mps and bruises, but I can't have doctors looking at me.

Morales knew some of the background on this and he was just fis.h.i.+ng with his question. I guess I couldn't blame him. He thought I must know more about it than I did.

I wasn't a vampire. Yet. And if there was anything I could do to stop it, I wouldn't become one. In the meantime, I couldn't risk what might show up on X-rays and blood tests any more than I could risk violating my agreement with the army. And even mouth to mouth resuscitation might have been a really bad idea for Jennings to try, for both of us.

”This man has a concussion. We'll need to keep him under observation.” The medic glared at me as they stretchered him away.

”I was not going to lie there and let him pump my chest and s...o...b..r all over my face,” I said defensively to Morales. ”You know why...ah, h.e.l.l. Apologize to him for me, will you? I'll buy him a drink next week. And, uh, thank you too. Good timing.”

Morales grunted and stood up. ”Well, if you don't need to go to the hospital, do you need a lift home?”

I started to shake my head and thought better of it. Falling over wouldn't look good. ”No, thanks.” I got shakily to my feet. Not good, but not bad. I've felt worse.

He handed me a handkerchief. ”You might want to get that muck off your face,” he said. ”You will have a full report in my in-tray tomorrow morning, 9 a.m. And you will be available for any further questions.”

”Yes, sir.” d.a.m.n, so much for sleeping in tomorrow. But at least he wasn't chewing me out for not keeping a low profile.

”Then get the h.e.l.l off my crime scene.” He waved toward the gate.

I couldn't resist. ”Oh. That's what all this pretty yellow ribbon is for, is it?”

Sleight of Hand Chapter 2

TUESDAY.

Well, unless sitting in the office was my own personal purgatory, I was still alive.

I hurt like h.e.l.l, though.

I completed the report and stretched, carefully. The bruises would fade and the sprains and strains would repair themselves. I heal exceptionally quickly, but being hit by a truck is always going to hurt for a while.

Scary stuff. Just my kind of evening's entertainment.

Sitting still while typing the reports had stiffened up my back and I attempted some gentle twists. One of the problems with being five-ten; there was more of me to hurt. Still, on the bright side, a normal person would have been in the hospital, if she were lucky.

Morales had gotten his report. This one was for Carter. I attached it and a final invoice to an email, signed it off as Amber Farrell, Commercial and Private Investigator, and sent it. That began the sweet process that would end with money in my beleaguered bank account. Not a moment too soon. This case had lasted way longer than I had antic.i.p.ated; the flat fee I'd agreed to had turned out to be a bad decision. It had been interesting, sure, and that was important to me personally, but it meant I had put aside the everyday work that kept an investigation business solvent.

I couldn't face the thought of that everyday work at the moment. I'd earned an afternoon off. But should I go swimming and show off the bruises all down my body, or just opt for a run to loosen everything up? Or both? That way, I could justify a steak dinner and one of Lario's legendary chocolate desserts. My mouth started to water at the thought. I'm totally OCD on physical fitness, and a girl's gotta fuel all that energy.

Before I did anything else, I logged into the bank account and paid Tullah. She had come to work for me with the clear understanding that salaries get paid when they can, but I felt guilty when it was late.

Done. I gathered the remaining notes on my desk and stuck them in the Crate & Freight folder.

I guessed Windler would be in custody by now, with a charge for attempted vehicular manslaughter added to a long rap sheet.

My cell rang and at the same time, the outer door opened. That was unusual, since we didn't get much walk-in business, but Tullah would hold whoever it was for a few moments. The caller ID on the cell showed Morales.

This ought to be good. Clearing up a major drug smuggling operation in one hit like that would look good in front of his bosses. So, a little thank you from the police captain, that would just be icing on today's cake, or Lario's chocolate dessert, whatever.

The warmth from outside had set the air conditioning off again and made me think how cool that swimming pool would feel. I needed to keep this short.

”Captain Morales, good day,” I said cheerfully.

”Farrell, we have some problems.”

”Hmm. 'We,' Captain?” My vision of an afternoon off receded, but I wasn't going to let it go without a fight.

”Yes, 'we,' Farrell, and you can put away the smarta.s.s comments any time now.”

”What's wrong?” I said. ”Don't tell me Windler and Nokes got away?”

”For the moment.”

Despite the sour note of their escape, I still felt good about the op, but I had to get moving.

”Okay. Well, I guess you didn't call for that.”

”Yeah. Look, Farrell, we've locked down Crate & Freight.”

”d.a.m.n! Carter's not going to be happy.” Not to mention me-my invoice wasn't going to get paid while the company accounts were frozen.

”He isn't, and let's be clear, that's an understatement. That's the first reason I called you-to give you a heads up. He's hurting and he's blaming you.”

The heads up surprised me. Captain Morales wasn't ever my biggest fan. When I left the police force, I guess I could have dug my heels in and made it an issue, which wouldn't have looked good on Lieutenant Morales' watch just as he was pitching for the next slot. In the event, I had left quietly and he was made Captain a month or so later, but that didn't obligate him to call me with warnings on a matter like this. I guess this was my thank you for last night.

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