Dust to Dust

arm across his chest, and rolled the shoulder again, wincing the whole time. “No. Just hurts like hell. I’m fine. What’s this about?” He stood halfway and peered over the hood of the police car.
    “I have no idea. I just got here,” said Diane.
    “How’s Hanks?” shouted Izzy.
    “I’m fine. Just mad as hell,” he shouted back.
    “Backup should be here soon,” said Diane.
    Diane eased the police car door open, intending to turn off the headlights and use the radio as a link to the police who were on their way. As she reached to cut the lights, she thought she saw a shadow cross a window of the house. It was quick, just a roundish shape passing one of the lower windows.
    “That’s why the random shots,” she whispered.
    She cut the lights. Now only light from the first-quarter moon illuminated the area. At least the shooter would have a harder time targeting them.
    “What are you talking about?” said Hanks.
    He was shifting his weight, trying to look around the patrol car toward Neva and Izzy at the van.
    “They’re trying to keep us pinned down. Someone is in the house,” she said. “That’s why they’re just spraying bullets around, not targeting anything in particular.”
    Hanks looked over at her sharply, then turned his head toward the house. “Now? There’s someone in the house now?”
    “I’m not certain, but I thought I saw someone inside the house.” Diane stared at the windows again, squinting, as if that would give her better night vision.
    The shooter fired two more shots that dinged off the detective’s vehicle and a tree beyond the car. Diane listened for the distant sound of sirens. She heard none.
    “I’m going to ease over in the direction of the house,” she said. “Do you have a second gun?”
    Hanks lifted his pant leg and gave her the Chief’s Special he had strapped around his ankle.
    Diane weighed the gun in her hand. It wasn’t a particularly heavy gun, and she was strong, but it felt heavy in her hand, as if its lethal potential had a weight all its own. She didn’t particularly like guns, but it would be foolish to be without one now.
    She put her cell in her shirt pocket and moved a couple of steps in the direction of the house and woods, away from the shooter.
    “I’ll go with you,” Hanks said.
    “I’m just going to watch,” she said. “I have my cell phone to keep in touch. If there’s someone in the house, I can tell backup when they come.”
    “Fine. I’m still going with you.”
    Hanks stood halfway, keeping the vehicle between him and the shooter. He leaned with his good side against the car.
    “Are you sure you can walk?” asked Diane.
    “My leg was just grazed and my shoulder’s been worse. I’m fine,” he said. “I’m thinking I’d like to get inside the house and see if I can spot the shooter from the second-floor windows.”
    Diane didn’t think that was such a good idea, but she didn’t say anything immediately. She called Neva on her cell and, speaking in a whisper, told her what she and Hanks were going to do.
    “Gotcha,” said Neva. “We’ll be here at the OK Corral hanging out.”
    “Backup will be here soon,” said Diane. She listened again for distant sirens, but still heard none.
    “If we stay near the trees and outbuildings,” said Diane, “I don’t think the shooter will be able to see us.”
    She hesitated a moment. She had been trying to make nice with the detectives ever since Izzy told her they thought she interfered in their investigations a bit too often. But Hanks was about to interfere with her crime scene.
    “Detective Hanks,” she whispered, hoping a soft voice would make her words sound soft as well, “if you go into the house, you will contaminate the crime scene.”
    “That’s not the priority right now. We have a shooter and maybe someone in the house,” he said.
    Diane stared at him a moment, weighing how to respond. Hanks was maybe in his late thirties, she guessed. His sandy hair was roughed up by his fall. She couldn’t read his expression in the dark and she didn’t know very much about him. He was new to the department. And he wasn’t making a good impression on her.
    “Backup will be here any moment,” she said. “You’re bleeding, your arm’s hurt, and there may be someone on the second floor—who is armed.”
    “And if there is, I’ll nail his butt to the wall. Come on, if you’re coming.” Hanks rose to his feet, keeping his head down.
    Diane’s plan of