Page 90 of All I Need (Hearts of the South)
“Wait.” Bennett swept a gaze across the asphalt. “All the slugs have to be marked and mapped.”
Frustrated but unwilling to compromise the evidence, Emmett cupped both hands around his mouth. “Clark, you okay?”
“Can’t talk.” Clark appeared around the side of the bus and opened the doors to grab his gear. “Jim took one in the shoulder. Gotta start an IV and immobilize it until the Dougherty County ambulance gets here.”
Bennett stared at the exit hole in the trunk. “Shit, we can’t even touch the car to get the evidence kit.”
He pulled his phone from his belt and began snapping photos of the scene. He winced, rotating his wrist experimentally, and grimaced. Emmett glanced at the other squad car. “What about Walker’s kit?”
Bennett shook his head. “He doesn’t need to walk over here. Besides, he’s setting up the perimeter.”
Sure enough, Walker had the crime-scene tape out and was setting up the perimeter-within-a-perimeter. Emmett sighed and immediately regretted the deep breath.
They were going to be here a while.
The malaise didn’t last long as the adrenaline started to kick in. The GBI crime-scene techs carefully moved them—Emmett, Troy Lee, and Bennett—back to Walker’s unit. One of them unloaded the surveyor’s laser scanner to take the measurements for a 3-D model of the scene and set up a few feet from them. Troy Lee, jaw tight, rested on the trunk and propped his foot on the bumper. He rolled his sock down to reveal swelling and bruising around the ankle. “Damn it.”
“What happened to you?” Bennett cradled his wrist in his opposite palm.
“Tripped over Jim, trying to get him down behind the ambulance. Think he meant to get me shot.” Troy Lee cast a baleful glare at the Charger. “Fuck, look at my car.”
Walker harrumphed. “At least Calvert can’t blame you for this one.”
“Lieutenant, we need your shirt and vest.” The brusque GBI agent approached, crime-scene tech at her heels. She gestured at Emmett. “Turn around and let them photograph it, then strip it off.”
Feeling edgy and confined, Emmett obeyed. He removed his brass and stuck the pieces in his front pants pocket. Shirt unbuttoned, he allowed the tech to remove it.
Bennett swore behind him. Emmett tried to look over his shoulder. “What?”
“Kid, you are damn lucky.” Walker’s voice wavered a moment.
Stiff and sore already, Emmett had to let them help him struggle out of the tactical gear. Walker reached out to hitch up his undershirt.
Troy Lee prodded him with a less-than-gentle finger. “Son of a bitch, that’s got to hurt.”
Emmett rolled his shoulders. “It stings but it’s not that bad. What does it look like?”
With his phone, Troy Lee snapped a couple of shots and held it up for Emmett’s perusal.
“Damn.” Emmett stared at the large swathes of red and purple blooming across his back. “It really doesn’t hurt that much.”
“Wait until the adrenaline wears off.” Walker smirked. “Or until you wake up tomorrow.”
With his finger, Emmett zoomed in the photo. “That is pretty damn cool.”
“What?” Irritation hovered in Bennett’s curt voice. “That son of a bitch almost killed you. Would have killed any one of us if he could. What’s cool about that?”
Emmett frowned at him. “Let’s just say getting shot at and having a couple of major bruises is way cooler than actually getting shot and almost bleeding out.”
Bennett narrowed his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
“You’re mad at me?” Emmett tapped his own chest. “What the hell?”
“Do you not get what almost happened out here?” Bennett flung a hand toward the scene behind them, where crime-scene techs continued to work.
“Probably better than you do.” Emmett glared, heat flushing his nape and tingling along the edges of his ears. Hands at his hips, Bennett looked away, face pale under his tan.
“Emmett.” Troy Lee laid an easy hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have a kid, man.”
