Trixsters Anonymous
“Maren!”
“Oops, I thought they knew.” She shrugs.
“Well, they do now,” I mutter under my breath and turn my attention back to my parents, who are staring in shock. “Walker proposed when I visited last week. We had hoped to tell you two together when he got home.”
“He told me the other night, but only because I tricked him into it. I mentioned inviting you to Easter because I wanted to meet you before he asked,” Leslie tells them.
“He called me the next day with the news,” Marcus adds.
“I knew because Emi and I share everything,” Maren pipes in.
“Congratulations, Emi Leigh.” Dad smiles for the first time since arriving.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“When Walker gets home, we’re going to have a huge celebration,” Mom declares.
“Sounds like a wonderful idea,” Leslie agrees.
“I brought food, lots and lots of food.” Mom explains the bags they brought in.
“Maren and I will take care of it.” I motion for her to help me in the kitchen where Marcus and Dad put the bags.
“I’m going to turn on the news.” Leslie reaches for the remote.
“I’d sure love to hear all about the beauties on the wall.” Dad stares at the deer mountings around the room.
“We can help with that,” Marcus offers. “I’ve been with him for every one of these.”
Perfect, without knowing it, my dad has provided the perfect distraction for Maren to get started.
The only thing keeping me fro
m storming into Captain Corny’s office and raising hell is the fact that I’m terrified of going to jail. But as soon as Walker is home, I plan on going bat-shit crazy on the captain and Oliver.
Walker was shot! Twice!
Logically, I know the vest protected his chest, and Marcus explained that his leg was only grazed, but that doesn’t calm my nerves. Seeing the men forced into the back of that cargo truck with guns pointed to their heads will give me nightmares for the rest of my life.
It’s been three hours since all the parents left with assurances I’d call with any news. It took Maren a little time, but once she was in, the three of us have been glued to her computer, reading private emails, memos, and finding the video one of the DEA agents shot with their chest cams. The footage was cut off abruptly when he was captured. Besides the video, we now know the truck was dumped about twelve miles from the docks, and when it was found, all of the men’s gear and communication equipment was left behind, which means they now have no more protection. There are no signs of them anywhere, which could mean a variety of things. They could be traipsing them through the woods with guns still held at their heads, they could have called for another form of transportation, or they have a safe house somewhere; those are just a few of the options.
“Emi, stop pacing. You’re worse than a rabid dog,” Maren hisses.
“If I stop moving, I’m going to march downtown and strangle someone.”
“Marcus, sit on her. Hold her down. Do whatever you have to do to make her quit moving and keep us out of the clink. Although, I bet she’d make a good bitch.”
“Jesus, are you two always like this?” Marcus blows out an exasperated breath.
“Always,” we confirm at the same time.
I stop pacing long enough to refresh my screen and see if any more information has been charted on gunshot wound victims. Maren had to do some sort of fancy firewall manipulation since my insurance network didn’t find any results.
“They lost one. According to this report, a twenty-nine year old male died an hour ago from a double shot to the chest. Removing the bullets was futile,” I inform them. “If that was the asshole that shot Walker, I hope he died in excruciating pain.”
“Double-hit to the chest leads me to believe it wasn’t a day in the park,” Marcus chuckles lightly.
“We have a new incoming email.” Maren leans closer to her screen, squinting as she reads. “Looks like they’ve hit another dead end.”