Manning was trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Diamond was pushing a gun into the mouth of a woman he’d tied to a tree and the goon with him was fiddling with his jeans, or…He narrowed his eyes. Was the fucker jerking off? Disgusting.
“Freeze! Police.” He jumped out from behind a tree and pointed his gun at Diamond only to shift his aim to the guy who’d let go of his d**k and grabbed a pistol.
“Stay where you are.” He glanced at Diamond who edged away. s**t, he should’ve brought backup, or at least called Jacobs before he’d trailed the black Mercedes.
Diamond held up a hand to his ear as if he were listening into the forest. “It’s awfully quiet, Detective.” He widened his eyes in an exaggerated manner and took another step.
“Stop!” Manning strode closer to the woman. “It’s all right, miss. I’ll get you out of here.” A quick glance had him halting. It wasn’t a woman. Delicate, with long dark hair, and almost silvery eyes, but not a woman.
Diamond’s laughed echoed between the trees as he hurdled out of sight. Manning glanced between his disappearing back and the…hostage? Prisoner? Enemy or victim?
Fuck! He prepared to run, muscles tense, gun at the ready, and then he hit the ground. Rolling, he glared at the man tied to the tree. He couldn’t have tripped him, but how else did he end up in a heap on the moss? There was nothing he could’ve stumbled over. A car engine roared in the distance. “Bastard.”
The man slumped against the tree, the barbs digging into his chest. Manning winced. f*****g Diamond. He got up and aimed his gun at the goon who surprisingly still was there. “You’re coming with me to the station.”
He picked a zip tie from his pocket and cuffed the man, who shrugged. “You have nothing on me.”
“We’ll see.” He didn’t have anything, but he was sure Jacobs could find something they could keep him for. Jerking off in public or something.
He grabbed his phone and asked for a police car to be sent to the Misty Grove Reservation before going over to the man tied to the tree.
“I’ll untie you now. No funny business.” He pointed his gun at the man to emphasize his point. Shiny bright eyes blinked open as if he’d been napping. Why was he wearing a dress? Diamond’s doing? It was a kind of wraparound thing, and he’d tied a string of ivy around his waist. Perhaps not Diamond’s doing—his women were most often wearing tight-fitting dresses that left nothing for the imagination. And his men…his men didn’t wear dresses.
“Dolt.” The man’s voice was frail and fear etched his face.
Dolt? Manning had been called many things in his line of duty, but dolt? It might be a first. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not gonna hurt you, but you need to come with me to the station for some questioning.”
The wire was cutting in on several places and anger bubbled up inside him. Was it necessary to use barbed wire? The man didn’t show much sign of pain, but flowers of blood decorated his clothing from where the metal spikes had been buried in his flesh.
Manning reluctantly grabbed a zip tie and secured the man. Where the hell was the police car?
Jacobs should be the one talking to this one. Manning didn’t do too well with the traumatized.