CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The paramedic shone a penlight into Vic's eyes, watching her pupils contract and dilate.
She was sitting on the back bumper of the ambulance with an ice pack pressed against her forehead.
The bruising had already started to darken, a nasty purple-black mark that spread from her hairline down toward her left eyebrow.
Miles watched her from nearby, standing in the desert heat.
He was pretty sure Vic was going to be okay but wanting to hear every little detail just in case.
"Follow my finger," the paramedic said. He was in his forties with graying hair and a calm demeanor. He moved his index finger slowly from left to right.
Vic's eyes tracked the movement, though Miles could see her wince slightly with each shift in focus.
"Any nausea?" the paramedic asked.
"A little."
"Dizziness?"
"Some, yeah."
The paramedic lowered his hand and made a note on his tablet.
"You've got a pretty obvious concussion,” he said.
“Grade two, I'd say. The bruising is significant, but the skin isn't broken.
You're going to need a CT scan to rule out any bleeding or fractures, and you'll need to be monitored for the next twenty-four hours. "
Vic groaned. “Hooray.”
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid,” Miles said, trying to keep things light. He had seen Vic take hits before during arrests and confrontations, but this was different. The helium tank had caught her completely off guard and the force of the blow had been brutal.
A forensics van had arrived about fifteen minutes ago, and two techs were now working over the helium tank that the killer had dropped before fleeing.
One of them was carefully dusting the metal surface for prints while the other photographed the tank from multiple angles.
It felt far too busy even though things were being handled properly.
Lawson and Bennet had already been escorted from the site by a police officer, headed to the closest precinct to give their reports.
Miles walked over to where the forensics techs were working, hoping the killer had been working in a hurry and had gotten sloppy. "Anything?"
The woman dusting for prints looked up. She was young, maybe thirty, with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. "Actually, yes. We've got some excellent prints here. Multiple fingers, all clean and clear. Textbook stuff."
"How soon can you run them?"
"I can upload them to the database right now if you want. We should get results within a day. Maybe as early as sixteen hours or so if we insist it’s a priority. I’m sure you know how these things go.”
“Yes, I do. And that would be great if you could get it pushed along right away.” As tired as he was and as insane as this case was, the idea of waiting sixteen hours felt like an enormous defeat.
The tech nodded and pulled out her phone, taking several high-resolution photos of the prints she had lifted. Her fingers moved quickly across the screen as she uploaded the images to the FBI's fingerprint database.
Miles returned to where Vic sat with the paramedic. “Looks like we’ll have a few sets of clear prints from the tank he used to attack you.”
“Good. At least some good will have come from it. What about the truck?" Miles asked.
"Still nothing on the APB. Every unit in three counties is looking for it; there are even six drones actively looking for it.
But so far no sightings. Makes sense. I bet he ditched it as soon as he could, and he's hiding out in some pre-planned location.
Escaping so easily like this…I bet the bastard already had every step planned. "
The paramedic stood and addressed Miles directly. "Agent Stone needs to get to a hospital for that CT scan. I can transport her, or if you want to drive her yourself, that's fine, too. She's stable enough for that."
Vic pulled the ice pack away from her forehead and looked at Miles. "You should keep going. There are the prints to wait for, there’s still Kim’s footage to go through, and there’s an active APB out on the truck. You can wrap this up while I'm getting my noggin checked."
"You need someone with you," Miles said.
"I'll be fine. You and Kim can wrap it." She shrugged and added, “It might just be the opportunity Kim needs.”
Miles hesitated. He wanted to argue, wanted to insist that he should be the one to take her to the hospital. But Vic was right. The investigation was moving fast now, and if the fingerprints came back with a match or the APB got a hit, he needed to be ready to move.
"You're sure?" he asked.
"I'm sure. Go catch this guy."
Miles stepped closer and squeezed her hand. The gesture was brief but solid, a moment of connection that said more than words could. Vic squeezed back, then released his hand and stood carefully from the ambulance bumper.
"Let's get you to the hospital," the medic said, moving to support Vic's elbow.
He then helped her into the ambulance, and Miles watched the doors close before turning back toward the forensics team.
One of the techs was still photographing the helium tank while the other was taking inventory of everything inside the van.
Miles walked to his car and climbed in, starting the engine as he watched the ambulance pull away.
At one point, there had been two on the scene—one for Vic and one for Vivien.
The one currently pulling away had Vic in the back.
Yes, he knew Vic would be okay, but it was the first time he’d seen her taken down in such a way.
While this killer may have gotten careless and sloppy, this was a reminder that none of that made him any less dangerous.
He put the car in gear and accelerated out of the desert, eager to get back to Kim at the field office.
They still had security footage to look through.
It was infuriating to have prints and a portion of a face but still no name.
But it was only a matter of time now. And it was that certainty that had him somehow looking past the lack of sleep and a series of dead ends…
looking toward an end to this case that would bring them closer to dismantling Gabriel Kane’s little army.