Page 53 of A Touch of Murder
"Cohen, you don't want to die. Come out and surrender," Barret called.
"I'm not going back to prison," Cohen screamed.
Barret bit his lip to keep himself from being distracted by the pain in his elbow. There were only two ways out for Cohen and if he wasn't going to prison, he'd end up in a casket. Both were fine with Barret. That man needed to be off the streets. The world would be safer with him gone.
The gun Stevenson had been using was lying on the ground outside the semi and Barret had no idea if Cohen had another gun inside. He quickly called over the radio, letting the others know about the gun on the ground since those on the other side of the semi couldn't see it. Damn, it was hard to use his left hand for things he was used to doing with his right.
"Is Stevenson dead?" Captain Russel asked.
"I can't confirm, but it looks like it," Barret told the team as he watched blood drip down Stevenson's head and onto the ground to puddle below.
Without any warning, Cohen came flying out of the driver's side of the semi and lunged for the gun on the ground. Barret reacted without thinking, reaching with his right arm for his own gun, the pain rushed through him, and he fought the dizziness. This wasn't good. He had to keep it together. He tried to grip the gun with his left hand, but he was shaking. Didn't dare take a shot when he couldn't aim straight.
The sound of gunfire had him looking up just in time to see Martin Cohen's body jerk several times as he was shot, then stumble back, before falling to the ground, his head hitting the pavement hard enough to kill him if the bullets hadn't.
Barret took several deep breaths, then tried to stand. Dizziness and pain swarmed him, and he reached out to steady himself against the dumpster, but like before, he tried to use his right arm. It was too much. He knew he was going down and there was nothing he could do about it. With a deep breath, he fell to his knees and let the darkness take him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Adam was hanging some new t-shirts he'd ordered on the rack when Becky came running into the store. She had tears in her eyes and looked frantic as he dropped what he was doing and went to her. "Becky, what's wrong?"
"It's Barret. He's been shot. They're taking him to Idaho Falls." She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. "I loaned Francine my car today to go see her mother in Jackson. Can I borrow your car, or can you take me?"
"Of course, I'll take you." Adam glanced back at Jacey.
"Go. I've got things here. Call and let me know what's going on as soon as you know anything." Jacey was already pulling out his cell phone, probably to contact his few friends in the area who would be hearing the gossip.
Adam ran back to his office and grabbed his keys from his desk drawer. "You call us if you find out anything. You'll probably hear before we do." He nodded to Becky and followed her out the front door. "Do you need to go back to the bakery for anything?"
"No, I've got my purse. Officer Vance called me and said I shouldn't worry, but Barret had been shot. Said it wasn't serious, but it was more than our little hospital here could handle." She pulled the passenger door to Adam's car open as soon as he unlocked it. "If it's too bad for here, it has to be really bad, right?"
Adam got in the car and started it. "Maybe, but they wouldn't be transporting him clear to Idaho Falls if he needed immediate help. They can only do so much in an ambulance." He pulled out of his driveway, his own worry growing as he thought about what little he knew. He'd just started to get to know Barret. He couldn't lose him now.
"Vance said it wasn't life threatening, but then why wouldn't he let me talk to Barret? If it's something minor, Barret would insist on talking to me so I wouldn't worry about him." Becky sniffed. "Did you talk to him today?"
"No, we haven't talked in a couple of days. He's been busy with stuff. You?"
"He dropped by for coffee this morning around six-thirty. I gave him donuts to take to the station. He sounded like everything was normal." She wiped her eyes again with her shirt.
"There's tissues in the glove box," Adam told her as he focused on getting through town. He hadn't gone far when he noticed a huge police presence behind Chubby's. He slowed because traffic was barely moving. "That's probably where it happened. Do you want to stop and talk to someone or keep going?"
Becky shut the glove box after grabbing the tissues. "Keep going. If something is really wrong and I'm not there with him… He's all I have left. I can't lose him."
"Vance would have warned you if it was bad. I trust Vance not to lie about something like this. We should be there in about thirty to forty minutes." Adam tried to see what had happened. He saw a semi parked behind Chubby's with crime scene tape all around it. It looked like several of the police vehicles had broken windows. God, if he could just stop for a second, but he had to do what Becky needed right now. She was his main concern.
"Did you see the semi? Do you think it had something to do with Trina's murder?" Becky stared out the window, watching all the activity.
"I honestly don't know, but it's probable. I can't imagine what else it could be." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He set it between them. "Jacey will call if he learns anything. The town gossips will be at work, and he'll know in no time exactly what happened."
"Did you hear gunshots?" Becky asked.
"No, but Jacey and I had music on. Besides, a sound like that from Chubby's might not reach our area. Or it might sound like a backfire if I heard anything." Adam finally got through the traffic and was able to increase his speed. He just needed to get through town and make it to the highway, then he could double his speed. "Barret's strong. Don't go thinking the worst. He's a good cop."
"Even good cops get shot." Becky sniffed. "He was shot once before when he lived in Seattle, did he tell you that?"
"No, but we haven't gotten very personal. How bad was it?" Adam wondered why he hadn't seen that when they touched. Traumatic things usually were the first thing he saw when touching another person. That or important memories.
"Not really bad. Hit his thigh. Didn't hit bone, so didn't do a ton of damage. He didn't even tell me about it until several days after it happened. Told me he was on leave for a while to heal and had to do some physical therapy. I was pissed that he didn't call me right away, but I kind of get why he didn't. I would have been there as soon as I could. I would have been a mother hen and drove him crazy. He's got a nice scar from that. I hoped that living here would mean he wasn't in as much danger."
