Page 33 of I'll Be There
They sat, away from the crowds on the far east side of the parking lot. Away from the prying eyes. “You gonna work me over or something?”
Big Man glanced at him, frowned. “What? No. I didn’t want to bring you into the information center covered in blood—we’ve got kids there. Besides, we need to make room for the ambulance. The police are on their way—I’ll hand you off to them.”
“Listen—” Conner glanced at the man’s name badge. “Seth. I’m not the criminal here. I was talking to my friend—the one who wasshot—and I saw who did it. I was chasing him—”
“Armed with a conceal and carry pistol?” Seth indicated the weapon now shoved into his belt. “Right. Those are illegal here in the park, by the way.”
“It’s not mine!” And that’s where he stopped. Because with her hanging onto her life by who knew how many threads, the last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize Blue’s long-term freedom. “I found it.”
Seth raised an eyebrow.
Conner watched families hustling their children out to their Caravans and SUVs. The group of blue-hairs got into a bus parked at the edge of the lot. Traffic piled up as cars jammed the only exit.
“Okay, Seth, I’ll tell you the truth. I’m actually with the FBI. We’re tracking a suspect involved in the murder of one of our agents—”
“At a national monument? And by the way, you’re a little out of your jurisdiction. This is Canada.”
Right.
“It’s mostly truth.”
A siren whined in the air—the ambulance parked near the front of the lot screamed past him, on its way to the hospital.
Blue.
Conner had lost the guys in the chaos and now hoped they’d been able to slip out without also being flex-cuffed.
His pocket vibrated again. “Do you mind? I gotta get this. I’m sure it’s my fiancée—she’s expecting me back this afternoon, and I gotta call her.”
“Your fiancée? Right.”
“I’ll prove it to you. If the caller’s name says Liza Beaumont, then I get to answer. If not...then, you keep thephone.” Please, let it not be Pete, or Reuben, or even Micah. But only Liza would be this persistent. Probably.
“Did you say LizaBeaumont?”
Seth had blond hair, a reddish-blond array of whiskers, and bore the look of a true-boned Swede born with a lumberjack ax in his hand, and not a little out of his element in his gray historical park security uniform.
“Yeah...”
“I think I’m going to your wedding.”
Conner stared at him.
“Yeah, I do some carpentry work on the side—I made some shelves for Liza’s pottery studio. I saw her in the grocery store a few days ago, and she invited me. Are you lying to me?”
“No. I met her during the forest fire that threatened Deep Haven a few years ago.”
“Right. I remember that—the fire, not you.” He shook his head. “I’m not digging around in your pocket, dude.”
“Uncuff me.”
Seth narrowed his eyes.
“You already let the shooter get away. If you let me have my phone, I’ll also show you some ID. I’ve got friends in the fort waiting for me—they’ll confirm my story.”
Seth considered him for a moment. “No can do, bud.” He got up. “Listen, I’ll go see if I can find your friends. Sit tight.”
“Where am I going to go?”
