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“Almost everyone,” he replied with a slight smile. He lifted his first aid kit to the stage and said, “Has anyone ever told you that you get grouchy when you’re in pain?”
She chuckled in spite of her irritation. “Yeah, almost everyone.”
“Well, that’s a natural reaction, so it’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
“That was better,” she said. “Keep it up, and you’ll get your five-star review.”
He chuckled and cleaned her hand with iodine, soaking up the disinfectant with the gauze. “Your K9 is fine too. He doesn’t appear to have been injured. Tough dog, especially for an older K9.”
Faith felt a pang at that. She looked over at Turk who sat next to her, watching her closely. He didn’t look old to her. He seemed like a puppy. She couldn’t believe he’d have to retire in three weeks.
She put that worry aside for a more immediate one. She looked over to the gurney a few yards away. The black-haired woman was strapped to the gurney, talking to Michael, who stood over her with his hand on her shoulder. "How's the victim?" she asked.
“Shedefinitelyhas a concussion,” the paramedic said, wrapping her hand carefully. “She was hit really good in the head a couple of times. We’re a little worried about a brain-bleed, but if she has one it’s not bad yet. Worst-case scenario, she has a minor surgery to manage the swelling. But the short answer is that she’ll be okay.” He glanced her way. “Physically, anyway.”
“And the killer?”
The paramedic’s eyes hardened. “Dead,” he said. “Where he belongs.”
Faith nodded. She couldn’t help but agree. The paramedic taped her bandage closed and said, “All right. You’re all set. Are you the kind of person who’s going to bite my head off if I tell you to take it easy for a week?” She glared at him, and he chuckled. “Well, then I won’t say it. Have a good evening, Special Agent.”
He walked away and helped his partner get the victim transported out of the theater. Faith looked over at the othergurney. A white sheet was draped over the body of the killer. The paramedics assigned to him were taking their time wheeling him out of here, an unconscious show of disrespect to a man who deserved none.
Turk nudged her, and Faith stroked his fur and smiled at him. “Good job, Turk. We did it. We saved her. We caught the bad guy.”
Michael walked over and sat next to Faith. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Right as rain,” she replied. She chuckled. “I haven’t said that in a while.”
"I assumed you grew out of it," Michael said. "It's nice to hear it again. Maybe I should come up with a catchphrase."
“Be my guest.” She looked back to see the killer finally being wheeled from the theater.
“We don’t have an ID for him yet,” Michael said. “He didn’t have a wallet, and there was no paperwork in the van out front. The would-be victim is Lana Argyle, twenty-eight years old. She’s an app developer. I guess she was working overtime on a new video game that she described as something called weeaboo bait. I have no idea what that means.”
“Me either,” Faith said. “She should ask for a raise after this.”
“She has informed me that it’s her intention to quit in dramatic fashion.”
“Good for her.”
“Hope so. I don’t know if I’d throw away a source of steady income before finding another job, but I also don’t work… wait… I do work overtime.”
“If you ever quit in dramatic fashion, you have to tell me so I can watch it.”
“I’ll send a mass email to the whole field office,” Michael assured her. “Everyone can see me truly give the Boss what for.”
She chuckled at that and looked around at the empty theater. “I guess we should leave too.”
“I don’t know, I was kind of hoping to catch the last act,” Michael quipped.
She rolled her eyes and got to her feet. Her vision swam, and she stumbled. Michael quickly got to his feet and steadied her. “Are you all right?”
Her hands were strong around her shoulders. She felt a flush climb her cheeks, but when she looked at Michael, she remembered David and Ellie. That was the future. Whatever reminiscences she was having about Michael right now was the past.
“I’m good,” she said. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
***
