Page 26 of License to Kill

“And how did you gain access to that information?”

“Well, one of the FBI agents is my husband.” Was ‘was’ a better term?

The cop blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Last time I checked, I was married to one of the agents who had been trapped in the building. It might be a ‘was’ married—we had a rather spectacular fight, which resulted in me walking out the door. Apparently, I was only good enough for him under certain circumstances.”

The bitterness in my voice startled me into silence.

“You’re leaving out important information, Kit.” Amelia sighed and shook her head.

“Let me see if I understand this. You’re saying you are married to one of the individuals who was trapped in the building, so you assaulted the place and killed ten men in the process.”

“We played Go Fish while waiting to be arrested,” Amelia added.

“So you entered the building, killed ten people, and then waited to be arrested.”

Amelia smiled and nodded. “I don’t suppose you have a first aid kit, do you? She was shot, and it’d probably be a good idea to treat the injuries. I mean, her bleeding to death would probably solve some problems for you, but at the same time, I kinda like her, so I’d rather not have to deal with the details of her funeral.”

“Thanks, Amelia. It’s nice to know you care.” I sighed and restrained my urge to huff.

All huffing did was make me torture myself thinking about Jake even more than I already did.

“You’re welcome.”

“How badly were you shot, ma’am?”

“One graze, one through, same arm.” I shrugged. “The other ones are older, and they’re fine, so don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll call for an EMT. If you two aren’t going to cause any trouble, I’ll remove the handcuffs.”

“If we were going to cause trouble, we already would have,” Amelia pointed out. “We had how many weapons when we were arrested? Did we resist? No.”

The cop frowned, but he pulled out his keys and removed our handcuffs, taking them with him when he left the room. He paused in the doorway. “It won’t be long, ladies.”

I braced for the worst and offered my bandaged arm to Amelia. “May as well check it now.”

It took her several minutes to pick at the knot and untie the bandage. The fabric pulled at the gunshot wound, and Amelia scraped the dried blood from the fabric with a nail to help prevent the hole from reopening. The measure had been enough to stop most of the bleeding, although my arm had swelled.

It hurt like hell, but after the past few weeks, I tolerated the throbbing pain better than I thought possible.

“If anyone’s watching, they’re probably having a field day,” I muttered, wrinkling my nose at the bright red against the darker splotches of caked blood. “That’s going to hurt like a bitch cleaning it.”

“It’ll be like you had your arm waxed. Don’t be a baby about it. Pulled hairs don’t hurt that much.”

“You should tell them to give me some Demerol.” While I wouldn’t remember a thing, the resulting rampage would be a fair payback for leaving us handcuffed for so long.

“That would make the questioning session interesting.”

“They still haven’t asked for our names.”

“I noticed. At least that one called us ladies. That was nice of him. And he’s calling an EMT for you. Aren’t you excited? You might get to go to the hospital.”

“They’re going to take one look at me, start counting gunshot wounds, and lock me away as a test subject trying to figure out how I’m still alive.”

“I’m just that good at field treatment. A transfusion after the first round of gunshot wounds probably would have made things a bit easier on you, but you survived. You’re not nearly interesting enough to be locked away as a test subject.”

I went to work picking dried blood off my arm. “That’s something at least.”