Stolen Child (Coastal Fury Book 13) - Matt Lincoln (ebook reader library .txt) 📗

still!” I heard Nina grumble from my left and I whirled around to see her leading a man in handcuffs dressed much like the one I had killed, except his ski mask was darker, like the one in the security video. Both of them looked unharmed, to my relief.

“Are you okay?” I asked breathlessly as I ran up to meet them.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Nina said, waving me off. “What about Holm?” She gave me an anxious look, and I realized she must’ve not been able to check up on him yet.

“He’ll be okay, I think,” I said, reaching up to run a hand through my sweaty hair and then realizing that it was still covered in the first goon’s blood. “Just a shot in the arm. I called an ambulance.”

The sirens were growing even closer then, and I realized they must be pulling into the parking lot up above as we spoke.

“Are you okay?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at me and looking me up and down. I then realized that I must’ve been a sight to behold, all sweating and covered in blood as I was.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, shaking my head and dropping my arms to my sides. “The other guy is dead. It’s his blood.”

“Rudy?” the other goon gulped, almost yelping at this news.

Nina glared at him.

“We can talk about you and your friend later,” she snarled at him, as the lights from the police cars and ambulances up in the parking lot reflected down off the water in the bay. “Come on.”

She jerked the goon unceremoniously in the direction of the cars and then led him up the steps to the police. I walked back over to Holm and stayed with him until two paramedics with a gurney arrived shortly thereafter, bending down to inspect my partner just as I had moments before. He was still unconscious now, though.

“How long has he been like this?” one of the paramedics asked me.

“Just a couple of minutes,” I assured him. “He was awake and pretty lucid a minute ago. Weak, but lucid.”

The paramedic nodded like this was a good thing.

“We’ll take good care of him,” he assured me.

“He’s going to be okay?” I asked, taking a hesitant step toward them.

The man squinted back down at Holm’s arm, inspecting the wound.

“I’d say so,” he said. “Doesn’t look like the bullet hit any major arteries. He’s lost a lot of blood, though, so he’ll probably need a transfusion.”

I pulled two of my business cards out of my jacket and handed them to the paramedic, leaving a bloody thumbprint on the white paper.

“Call me when you know anything, okay? Give one to the doctor, too, if you don’t mind,” I instructed, and he nodded, squinting down at my name.

“Will do, Agent Marston,” he said. Then, narrowing his eyes at my bloody clothing, “You alright, yourself? You want to come and get checked out?”

“No, I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head. “This isn’t my blood.”

“Alright, then,” he said with a shrug as he and the other paramedic began to load Holm onto the gurney. “You look pretty dehydrated, though, so make sure you have something to drink.”

I thought back to lunch, and how after a certain point, I’d been too worried about the case to eat or drink anything and realized that he was probably right, and that was why I had nearly fainted before.

“Thanks, I’ll make sure to do that,” I told him, wiping some more sweat off my brow with my non-bloodied hand as I followed the paramedics up the set of stairs not far from there to the parking lot.

I looked back one last time at the boat rental shop, though there was still no sign of the owner or his nephew. I made a mental note not to forget to check back in with them when all was said and done. We still needed to know about that boat, and whether Mr. Samuels had really lent it out to someone and forgotten about it, or whether it had been stolen. Maybe the surviving perp would be able to answer that question if Mr. Samuels couldn’t, at least.

Up in the parking lot, there were several police cars and two ambulances. The two paramedics hauled Holm into one of the ambulances, groaning and rolling his head as he began to drift back into consciousness.

“It’s alright, Agent Holm,” the second paramedic, a woman, murmured to him. “You’re safe now. We’re going to take good care of you.”

Before I had a chance to say any parting words to my partner, the ambulance doors closed behind him, and the ambulance itself sped off, sirens blazing again.

A second set of paramedics hauled a black body bag, no doubt carrying the goon with them toward the other ambulance.

“Make sure the forensics team gets to examine him,” I said, approaching them quickly before they had a chance to speed off like the ambulance carrying Holm.

“Of course, sir,” one of the paramedics said, nodding to me deferentially. “We’ve already spoken to them about that. They’re going to meet us at the morgue.”

“Great, good, that’s great,” I said, nodding to him weakly in turn.

“You okay?” the other paramedic asked me, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Yeah,” I managed, not entirely honestly. “Actually, do you have some water or something I could drink?”

“Sure thing,” the young man said, leaping up on the ambulance, swinging open the doors, and returning shortly with two tall water bottles, cold and glistening with condensation.

“Thanks,” I said, eagerly accepting the bottles and downing one without stopping to breathe, then the other in short succession as the second ambulance sped away, though this one didn’t put its sirens back on. Their cargo was already gone.

As the water flowed through me, the life came back to me, as well, and though I was still sweaty and covered with the dead man’s blood, I felt infinitely better anyway.

I turned my attention to the rest of the parking lot then, which was crawling with police officers. No