 Wyatt was helped to his feet and lightly patted down. His wallet was dug out of his pocket while another of the cops grabbed the jacket. A quick search produced Wyatt’s weathered leather card wallet, flipping it open to reveal his badge and ID. Val was searched next, his wallet also confiscated. The cop took all their forms of ID and showed it to the officer next to him, saying, “I’ll check this out.” He moved off to one of the squad cars. “Until we verify you’re who you say you are, you’ll both remained restrained,” the other cop said. He nodded to one of the others, who bent down, taking Val’s arm and helping him up. Wyatt gave Val a reassuring smile. “It’ll be okay.” Val didn’t look convinced as he was led to an ambulance along with Wyatt. Kevin was loaded onto a stretcher and cuffed to it. Val was cuffed to a stretcher in the ambulance. Wyatt went into the back of a police car. As they all pulled away, Wyatt could see the storage unit being sprayed with water, but it was a lost cause and he knew it. Everything Lily had saved was destroyed except the box in the back of Wyatt’s car. Wyatt was left with one wrist secured with a zip tie to a bed in the emergency room of the hospital. That move didn’t surprise him. Until they talked to either someone from Homeland Security or Griff, they’d want to be sure he stayed where they put him. He asked repeatedly about Val to no avail. He knew there were uniformed cops just outside the curtains around his bed. Where Val was, he had no idea. Kevin’s whereabouts were of no concern. He had been scanned and examined and questioned by two doctors and three nurses. They’d finally, begrudgingly, Wyatt thought, given him a clean bill of health. His throat hurt like hell, but the doctor cheerfully told Wyatt he’d live. He was given a written list of what he should watch out for in the way of adverse physical reactions and warnings about alcohol and medications. Wyatt decided not to burst their collective bubbles by telling them he had had that list and instructions memorized years ago. Once the poking, prodding, and scanning segment of his day was complete Wyatt’s only real choice of action was to do nothing and be patient. The local police still had Wyatt’s personal and profession IDs. The first thing they’d do would be to contact Griff, whose card was paper-clipped to Wyatt’s driver’s license. It seemed forever until the curtain moved aside and Griff stepped through. “Well, you’ve had a fun day.” He cut the nylon cuff away, freeing Wyatt. “Come on, I’ll take you to Val. I’m sure the two of you want to get out of here.” Griff held Wyatt’s arm while he eased off the bed. “Thanks. Have you seen him? How is he?” Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s shaken up. A bullet grazed his arm, and he has a nice collection of bumps and bruises, but otherwise he’s doing all right,” Griff said. “Got any idea what will happen?” Griff nodded. “That’s what took me so long. I wanted to sort out as much of this as I could.” He carried a clear plastic bag in one hand. “This was the phone Val had on him, and this one was recovered from your car. I thought you’d like them back.” “Appreciate it,” Wyatt said and took the bag as they walked down the hall to a room. His wallet, which he stuffed into his pocket, was with the phones. They came to a stop in front of a door where two police stood on either side. “Neither of them is being charged,” Griff said, giving all the uniformed police a good look at his ID. They nodded and moved away, but didn’t leave. Griff opened the door and let Wyatt in first, following and closing the door behind him. Val was on a bed, both metal and nylon cuffs secured his arms and legs. A white bandage was wrapped around his bicep. “Wyatt. They wouldn’t tell me anything. I thought you’d died!” he blurted out, giving his arms a jerk, then huffing out a frustrated breath. “And they seem to think I’m public enemy number one.” It was impossible for Wyatt to contain his chuckle. When Val glared, Wyatt said, “They arrived and you were the man with the gun. It’s standard.” Val wilted back against the bed, his expression transformed to one of utter defeat. Griff took a key from his pocket and unlocked the cuffs, then cut the nylon away. Val swung around and was off the bed like a shot. He had his arms around Wyatt’s neck in a crushing hug a second later. Wyatt held him tight for a minute before moving him back to the bed and sitting him down. Val looked at his bicep. “I got shot. You’re a lousy date.” His eyes didn’t quite focus directly on Wyatt, and his words were very slightly drawn out. “I see,” Wyatt said. “They gave you some good drugs for pain, didn’t they?” Val gave him a sheepish look and nodded. Griff burst out laughing. A Barlow Lens is available in eBook, paperback, through Kindle Unlimited and your local library digital catalog.    
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