A Barlow Lens by Elizabeth Noble Page B

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 ID and professional ones. 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.
    â€œThanks. Have you seen him? How is he?” Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck.
    â€œHe’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.
    â€œGot 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.”
    â€œAppreciate 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.
    â€œNeither 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.
    â€œI 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.
    â€œKevin Fells is in custody. I contacted Mrs. Fells, who basically said to let him rot.” Griff pulled a chair up and sat in it. “The car with the busted out windows is yours, and the gun Val had is registered to Kevin Fells. He disabled the fire alarm and sprinkler system as well as the security cameras in the storage facility. However, the fool either missed or left the camera in your car. I suspect he intended to drive the car and the camera into Lake Erie.”
    â€œYou have my dash cam?” Wyatt couldn’t believe the luck of that. He stood next to Val, one hand on his knee, and leaned against the edge of the bed.
    â€œYep. Whole thing is on tape. Kevin attacking your car and the two of you, and dragging you into the storage unit,” Griff said. “You’ll both have to give