Page 171 of Protecting Peyton

One of the cops holstered his gun and nodded at Lucas. The other did not.

Two more cops joined them. “Gun,” one of them yelled. That changed everything as they all waved menacing black handguns at us. There were no more smiles. “Face down on the ground,” another ordered. “Interlock your fingers behind your head.”

O’Connor puffed up his chest. “I’m a detective with?—”

“Shut up. On the ground.” The angriest cop shouted as he pushed the detective toward the wall.

Zane gently let me go. “This woman needs medical attention.”

“Shut up and get on the ground, now.” He waved his gun at me. “You too.”

CHAPTER 40

Zane

An hour later,we were still tied up with LAPD interviews.

The strangler had been unconscious, but still alive when the ambulance crew carted him off to the hospital. It turned out that only two of O’Connor’s shots had hit him.

A dozen of the city’s finest, and three detectives had responded to the scene. Lucas had called Lieutenant Wellbourne about our shootout, and he was here providing some cover for us, but we still had to give statements.

It killed me to be separated from her when Peyton needed me. We’d been isolated as was standard practice for the cops, but at least I could see Peyton in the distance, sitting with a paramedic, my jacket around her shoulders.

Still, it was torture to be separated from Peyton just when she needed comfort. She’d been through hell, and I should be the one tending to her not some anonymous paramedic.

Detective Loman snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Hey. You’re not paying attention. This is serious.”

Peyton must have felt my focus on her when she looked up and sent me a tentative smile.

All I could do at this point was send her back an air kiss.

Loman’s tone turned nasty. “I said pay attention. A man died here.”

“Pardon me,” I snapped. “If I care more about the real victim here thanwhat happened to that asshole.” I motioned to the puddle of blood where the strangler had been.

“The man got shot. That makes him a victim too.” All of Loman’s questions had been about how we ended up here and how the strangler ended up nearly dead. “You guys came here armed to the teeth and wearing Kevlar, but the gunplay is all his fault?”

My gaze returned to Peyton.

Her eyes were down, her shoulders slumped. It wasn’t hard to imagine the toll this had taken on her.

“You guys were itching for a fight,” Loman continued. “Admit it.” The repetitive questioning continued.

The next time I looked up, she was being wheeled out by the paramedics.

From that moment, each of Loman’s questions was like torture. I had to get to Peyton. This episode wouldn’t truly be over until I had her in my arms and away from this place and its memories. Maybe a warm bath. Women liked those, didn’t they?

Peyton had been gone for twenty long minutes when a voice came from behind me. “Detective Loman?”

I pivoted to find Lieutenant Wellbourne.

“I’m sure the Hawk people will be available tomorrow if you need them. In the meantime, why not review your notes to determine if you have any relevant follow-up questions for the next interview?”

Loman nodded. “Yes, sir.”

As I strode toward Lucas on my way to Peyton’s previous location, I overheard him being grilled by another detective.

“There must be a few hundred casings in the other room. How is it that in all that time you, one, didn’t call 9-1-1, and two, nobody got killed?”