We kicked their weapons away, and I called for emergency services.
I knelt down beside the living scumbag and said, "Who do you work for?”
He gasped for breath.
The distant sound of sirens warbled, drawing near.
"If you want to live, tell me who you work for," I said, putting my pistol to his head. I wasn’t in the mood to play around.
He continued to struggle for air.
“Where is Paisley? Is she still alive?”
He said nothing.
“Start talking!” I demanded.
I wasn’t going to shoot the guy, but it was tempting. I pulled my weapon away before more patrol units screeched onto the scene, followed by EMTs and paramedics.
My phone buzzed with a call on the encrypted app from the kidnappers. I swiped the screen and held the device to my ear.
“You’re a hard man to get hold of,” a man said in a calm voice.
“I’ve been messaging you for the last several days,” I said. “You haven’t responded.”
“We learned you were indisposed. Then we realized you didn’t have the case. No reason to respond. Now it seems you have it again. I guess you saved Todd’s life. We were about to take it from him. That’s twice you’ve gotten in our way.”
“Who’s we?”
“Me and my friends.”
“Who are you?”
“That doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you have something I want.”
“Where’s Paisley?”
“She’s safe.”
I didn’t believe it. “Prove it.”
He sighed. “You’ll get your proof.”
“She better be alive and well.”
“I’m not a monster. I just want the prototype. Then we can all go about our lives.”
“You attacked police officers. You’re not going to get away with this.”
He chuckled. “You are in no position to make threats. I’ll be in touch shortly with a location to make the exchange.”
He ended the call, and I may have grumbled a few more obscenities.
I relayed the information to JD and the sheriff.
Paris Delaney and her news crew arrived and started capturing footage of the carnage.
The EMTs transferred the perp to a gurney and stuffed him into an ambulance. The lights flashed, and the meat wagon pulled away.
