Page 31 of Deadly Designs

“You killed this man. He’s deceased.”

“The hell you say?”

Christian dropped beside him and felt for a pulse.She was right . . . there wasn’t one. Maybe he had been allergic tosome ingredient in the mace. Christian didn’t have an Epi-Pen, sohe rolled the man over and began CPR as a car screeched to a stopvery close.

Christian didn’t pay any attention to what washappening as he concentrated on bringing the man back to life. Oneminute, he was performing chest compressions, and the next, he wasbeing jerked to his feet.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Arresting you for murder. That woman said you killedthis man.”

“I did not. Please unhand me so I can continue tosave his life.”

Aja Blue stepped in front of the cop. “What are youdoing?”

“Arresting a murderer.”

“You’re mistaken. Ask the nurse—” Aja Blue spunaround. “Hey, where did she go?”

Christian’s head jerked up at Aja Blue’s cry, and hesearched the gathering crowd for the dark-haired woman. The nextthing he knew, the cop was shouting something about resisting, andthen an intense pain started in his biceps and shot through hisbody. He dropped to the pavement, his muscles cramping as heconvulsed. His brain short-circuited. Christian was powerless tostop the cop from slapping cuffs on him and dragging him to hiscar. Aja Blue was screaming something, but his hearing wasmalfunctioning. Someone had tried to kidnap her moments ago, andall he knew was that he needed to protect her. His body wasn’tcooperating. Thankfully, he knew the effects of the taser wereshort-lived.

Somewhere in his swimming head, Christian heardanother siren cut off.

“Officer Cranny, what are you doing?”

“I’m arresting a perp.”

“You’re the first responder. It would be best if yousecured the crime scene. I’ll transport him.”

“That’s okay. I’ve got him.”

“That wasn’t a request. What are the charges?”

“Uh, murder.”

“Wow. Okay. Did you tase him?”

“Yeah, uh, he resisted.”

“I’ll add that to the list.”

The new officer hauled Christian to his feet andcrammed him inside his cruiser. Christian’s head was rapidlyclearing, and though his muscles were sore, he was fine. However,warning bells screamed in his head. The first cop, Cranny, hadn’tfollowed protocol when arresting him. He hadn’t read him hisMiranda Rights, nor had he searched him for any weapons—Christianhad three—and he hadn’t called it in. It was almost as if he’d beenin on it—whatever it was.

The driver’s side opened, and the second cop slidbehind the wheel. Christian said, “Sir, you need to release me.There’s been a mistake.”

The cop chuckled and shifted into drive. “That’s whatthey all say.”

“I’m serious. You need to stop this car right now. Myname is Christian Zamora, and I work for COBRA Securities. You cancheck the ID in my pocket. If you don’t believe me, call DetectiveNicole Herbert.”

The cop’s eyes slid to the rear-view mirror when hementioned the detective. Maybe he was getting through to him.

“The woman I’m protecting was almost abducted. That’swhat was happening. It’s imperative that I get back to her rightnow.”

The cop did not try to return to the parking lot;instead, he shook his head and drove.

“Listen to me,” Christian growled. “If anythinghappens to her, I will hold you directly responsible.”

The cop glanced over his shoulder. “Is that athreat?”

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