Chapters (95)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by David Swinson
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
I grab my pants. I notice blood on the legs. Don’t think it’s my blood. I still have my wallet, phone, keys, and the container with the capsules in my pants. Told them that was my medication. Partly true. It does state that Vyvanse is prescribed to me, but I keep those capsules somewhere else and use these bigger ones for the blow. A doctor or a good narcotics officer would be the only ones who could figure out these capsules don’t belong to the prescribed medication.
“These pants are going into evidence?” I ask.
“Yeah. We’re going to have to bag them. We know what you have inside, so you can secure those,” Campos says.
I take everything out and set it on the gurney.
“One of you mind getting me one of those hospital bags for my belongings?”
“I got it,” Gibbs says.
He leaves.
I drop the pants back on the floor, put my wallet, phone, keys, and container near the pillow.
I recline on the gurney bed.
Gibbs returns with a plastic bag.
I take it and drop everything inside the bag except the phone. I fold the top over and set the bag on the floor near the head of the gurney.
The younger cop’s cell rings. “Campos,” he answers. “Yeah. Yeah. Good thing. Got it. Right. At the hospital with him now. Yeah. Copy that.” He disconnects, slips it back in the inner pocket of his jacket.
“Do I check out?”
“Yeah, you do, but we knew you would.”
“I appreciate the confidence. So you don’t have to babysit me anymore.”
“We’re going to stick around, wait for your two detective buddies, and maybe ask a couple more questions.”
“Then why don’t you pull up a couple of chairs, make yourselves comfortable? It’s a pretty good story.”
Seventy-Seven
Seventy-Seven
X-rays looked fine for the shoulder, but there’s possible nerve damage in my left hand. I’ll have to wait and see. So much for the tolerance for pain I thought I had. Damn. When they stuck a needle around and in the stab wounds to numb up the area, I wanted to cry like a baby. The wrap around my left hand looks like a boxing glove. My shoulder’s taped up, and my left arm’s in a sling.
Hurley and Millhoff are in the room talking to the Alexandria duo when I’m wheeled in.
I can tell Millhoff is pissed. Hurley not so much. He’s not easy to read. They allow me to get comfortable on the gurney before the interrogation.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Millhoff demands. “I should charge you with obstruction.”
Now I see a reaction from Hurley. Don’t think he expected that.
“Obstruction?” I begin. “For what, securing personal property?”