Sudden Prey

arm so she could see more clearly. At the same time, Butters took the shade off a table lamp, and held it like a torch over LaChaise.
    Sandy looked at the wound for a moment. An open gash, at the back, became a bluish streak where the bullet had gone beneath the skin. A small round exit wound showed four inches below his nipple and over to the side. A trailing gash showed some rib meat. Sandy looked up at LaChaise. “You gotta go to a hospital,” she said.
    “Can’t do that. You gotta fix it.”
    She looked at it again. In fact, she could fix it. “It’ll hurt,” she said.
    “Atta girl,” LaChaise said, and to Butters: “Told you so.”
    “I believed you,” Butters said.
    “What happened?” she asked. “How’d you get shot?”
    “Argument over traveling money,” LaChaise said. “The guy owed me . . .”
    “Did you kill him?”
    “No, I didn’t kill him,” LaChaise said, smiling faintly. “Now, you want to fix me? This hurts like hell.”
    “You lying sonofabitch,” Sandy said evenly. “You killed some cops’ families. I oughta . . .”
    Before she could finish, Martin backhanded her. His hand was like a leg of beef, and knocked her flat. For a second, she didn’t know what had happened, and then dazed, ears ringing, heard LaChaise say, “Whoa, whoa . . .” Behind him, Elmore: “Goddamnit . . .”
    She rolled, tried to sit up, and Martin was there, his face inches from hers: “Stop the bullshit. You fix him or I’ll cut you into fuckin’ fish bait.” Across the room, Butters was smiling at Elmore, half expecting him to make a move, but Elmore swallowed and shut up.
    Sandy got back to her feet, turned away from Martin without a word and said to LaChaise, “I brought you some pills. You should take a few before we start.”
    LaChaise looked at her, then at Martin, and grinned at Martin: “I wouldn’t turn your back on her,” he said.
     
     
     
    LACHAISE TOOK THE pills with a swallow of water, and looked past Sandy at Elmore. “El, I hate to say this, but you better get back. I was recognized, and the cops’ll probably be coming by again.”
    “I thought it’d be best if Sandy come back tonight,” Elmore said.
    “She’s staying,” Martin said bluntly. “Overnight, anyway. Until Dick’s okay.”
    “What the hell am I supposed to tell the cops if they come?” Elmore demanded. “They’ll want to know where she is.”
    “Tell ’em she went out to the store, then call us on my cell phone. She can be back in an hour,” LaChaise said.
    “Sandy . . .” Elmore couldn’t say it, but she knew what he was thinking.
    “Come on, El, let’s get my stuff out of the truck,” Sandy said. She nodded at LaChaise. “I’ll get my stuff and kiss El good-bye.”
    “I’ll help,” Butters said.
    “You can stand on the porch,” said Sandy.
    Outside, at the truck, Elmore whispered, “I’m sorry about that in there. I was gonna say something . . .” He scuffled at the snow with the toe of his boot. “We gotta get out.”
    “I know.” She looked back at the house, at Butters standing there on the dark porch. “But I’ve got to get clear. If they killed cops’ families, then they’re dead men. I’ll be back home tomorrow, and we’ll figure something out.”
    “Sandy . . .” He stepped up to her, maybe to kiss her. She moved just an inch sideways and pecked him on the cheek.
    “You go on; I’ll be okay. Just wait ’til I get there, before you call John.”
    He didn’t want to go, but he couldn’t stay. He shifted his feet, looked up at the sky, shook his head, then started the low moaning that she’d seen earlier: he was weeping again.
    “El, El, hold on,” she said. “Come on, El . . .”
    “Ah, Jesus,” he said.
    “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.
    As Elmore was starting the truck, Sandy walked back toward the house; Butters suddenly dropped off the porch and hurried past her, waving at Elmore. Elmore rolled down the driver’s-side window and Butters came up, leaned close to Elmore, grinned and said, “You call the cops, we’ll cut off her head.”
     
     
     
    THE BULLET HAD simply slipped beneath the skin and back out again, but the wound had to be opened and cleaned. Sandy cut through the skin, carefully, with a razor blade. Fresh blood trickled into the gash, but as soon as she had the entire pathway open, she flushed it with saline, then soaked a sterile gauze pad with more saline and dabbed it clean. At the bottom of the wound, there