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“If you guys are packing,” I said, moving out from behind the counter.
“Already on it,” Malc said, gathering the guns and shoving them into Barry’s backpack, then walking toward me.
“My ride is out back,” I said. “Lift the floor in the trunk. There’s space to store them,” I told him, handing him my keys.
He got back and we all just stood there, waiting for the police sirens to get closer then come to a stop out front.
We all watched as a pretty blonde policewoman climbed out of her cruiser, her hand on her gun as another cruiser pulled up.
The two of them surveyed the store for a second before moving inside, their rubber soles crunching glass as they went.
“Is everyone alright?” the officer, who I knew as Maggie Judd—simply because I knew all the cops and detectives on the NBPD—asked.
“I’m shot!” Barry said, a little heavy on the dramatics for a graze, but this was the most action the poor guy would likely ever see. So I figured he was allowed to milk it a little.
Officer Judd rushed over, checking out the wound, then speaking into her radio.
After that, it was all the usual questioning.
Shale had started shaking before they’d even made their way to her. And while I knew there was a small part of it that was linked to not telling the police the full truth, they just assumed that she was an innocent woman caught in a shootout.
It wasn’t until they wanted to see the cameras that she looked panicked. Because their backs were to me, I held up a palm, a silent plea for her to be calm.
As it turned out, there was no reason to panic.
Because someone had fucked with the cameras.
Mentally, I scolded myself for not thinking to look at those.
I’d been too fucking focused on watching Shale to remember what I needed to be doing. Working on her case.
“I don’t understand,” Shale said, glancing over at me when she said it. “I don’t see anyone. How could they just… stop working?”
“They’re connected to a cloud somewhere,” I said, making the cops look over. “Someone could have hacked them.”
“We’ll put our people on it,” Travis, the other cop, said, clearly not knowing enough about it to say anything else.
The cops moved outside, trying to see if any of the other businesses around had cameras. It was pointless. This was a dead area. Hardly anything was in business anymore.
“I’m going to go check on Barry,” I said, giving Shale’s arm a squeeze. “Okay?” I asked when she just stood there, arms hugging herself.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding.
“Jackson,” I called, and watching him walk over toward her, reaching out to rub her shoulder, saying something to her as I walked outside to find Barry sitting on the stretcher in the back of the ambulance, but it didn’t look like they’d be taking him. “How you holding up?”
“It hurts,” Barry said, eyes wide. And he looked so much like a kid right then that I felt most of my frustration toward him melt away.
I glanced at the wound, a little raw, but definitely just a graze. It wouldn’t even need stitches.
“I’ll get you something for that,” I said.
“What? Like weed?” he asked.
“Someone say weed?” Dezi asked, materializing out of nowhere, brows up.
“Yeah. Think Barry here might appreciate some,” I said.
“I can hit the dispensary,” Dezi said. “We should clear out those dessert cases. No reason for the food to go to waste,” he added, already planning his munchies ahead.
