by Paula Boyd
I wanted to go with her, of course, but they wouldn’t let me. They’d also rejected my suggestion that they fly her on to Dallas where the odds at competent medical care were considerably higher. As I watched the helicopter disappear, I kept reminding myself that Jerry and I had both survived trauma care at the General Hospital so there was a glimmer of hope that she would too. My shoulder twitched its own reminder. To be fair, my arm had healed miraculously well, and my doctor in Denver said he couldn’t have done a better job himself. He could have just been lying to me, but I chose to cling to that statement.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
I was almost back to the Expedition when Jerry hurried up beside me. “Jolene, I can’t go with you to the hospital right now. Bob Little’s in the crappie house. I have to stay here for a while.”
I processed his words a bit slower than usual, but eventually came up with the obvious conclusion. “He’s dead.”
Jerry shook his head to stop me from asking questions. “Later. You have enough to deal with. Fritz is already headed to the hospital and Leroy’s coming to take you. He should be here any minute. You need to go with him, understand?”
“No, Jerry, you have to take me,” I said, hearing the pitiful tone of my voice even as I said it. This time, I couldn’t stop my mind from dropping into all the old programming. Jerry was going to abandon me when I needed him the most. Tears welled up in my eyes and a sob lodged in my throat. He couldn’t leave me, not now, not like this.
“Jolene, you need to get out of here, okay? I’ll be there as soon as the forensics people get here to process the scene.” He took me in his arms and kissed my forehead. “I love you, Jolene,” he whispered. “I’ll be there for you. I will.”
Why would he? Not one man in my life ever had. Danny certainly hadn’t. Something—anything—was always more important than me. Even when the kids were born. He was there during both events, but he made sure he never missed a full day of work because of it. And I always made excuses for him. Of course, Mr. Nameless who came after him was even worse. I don’t think I could have felt less valued, and the excuses I made up for him and how he treated me were beyond ridiculous.
“Go on and sit in the car,” Jerry said, giving me another quick kiss. “It won’t be but a few minutes.”
I unwrapped my arms from around Jerry’s waist as three more pickups pulled up along the road. Two had the red flashing lights of volunteer fire fighters on the top. The third truck only had a row of yellow lights across the top of the cab. That particular truck also had A-frame poles on the back and a very large man climbing out of the driver’s side. I wiped my hands over my face and composed myself then nodded toward Gilbert Moore. “What’s he doing here?”
“I have no idea,” Jerry said.
“Well, I want to talk to him.”
Gilbert Moore must have read my mind because he was already walking down the hill toward us.
Something about the guy just rubbed me the wrong way. I had nothing specific to call him on, but it seemed like he was guilty of something—or would be if he got the chance. Whatever the case, I had plenty of questions for him, starting with why he always showed up whenever some kind of drama was in play. Like tonight. I stepped away from car and marched up the hill toward him, figuring now was as good a time as any to get to the bottom of all of it.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Gilbert Moore jerked forward. “What the hell?” he yelled, grabbing his left shoulder. He hesitated for only half a second then crouched and ran toward us. Jerry grabbed me, dragged me to the far side of the Expedition then pushed me to the ground. As Gilbert Moore stumbled toward the back of the car, Jerry grabbed him too and shoved him toward me then pulled out his gun as he scanned the area.
Gilbert slumped down beside me. “I’ve been shot,” he said, leaning back against the tire and panting. “Who the hell would do that? What the fuck’s going on here?”
“I have no idea,” I said, my breath still coming in quivery gasps. I scooted around to where I could reach his shoulder better. His tan tee shirt was already soaked with blood. A lot of blood. “We need to get some pressure on that,” I said, trying to sound as calm as possible.
Jerry opened the car door, grabbed a first aid kit and tossed it to me. “Use the gauze packs.” He then grabbed the radio and began issuing more orders.
I didn’t need a close look at Gilbert’s shoulder to see that major damage had been done. There had been three shots, so it was possible there were three wounds in the same area, which could be why there was so much blood. Whatever the case, I had to deal with it, like it or not. My hands were shaking, of course, but so was my whole body. Still, I managed to open the kit, put on the gloves then open the packages of gauze so they’d be ready to pack the wound once it was exposed. “Can you take off your shirt?”
Pain was etched on his face, but he still managed a fake little grin. “I will if you will.”
“Oh, for godsake.”
Pop. Ping.
Jerry ducked out from inside the car and crouched beside Gilbert Moore, giving him a quick assessment. “Get pressure on that. Right now. Ambulance is on the way.” And with that, Jerry raised up, moved toward the front of the car. He fired in the general direction of where the shot had come from, which was down toward the lake and to the left of where we were. Whoever it was had probably been in the trees between the properties when he shot. But now he was on the move and we were easy targets. Other than on the property line, there was only one small cluster of trees on Lucille’s property. Jerry eased out from behind the car and ran toward it, firing.
I waited for more gunshots, fearing the absolute worst was coming for all of us. I felt myself starting to panic for about ten thousand reasons.
“Calm down, he knows what he’s doing.” Gilbert paused for a moment, panting a little and swallowing down a wave a pain. “Besides, if you hurry,” he said, trying to grin, “we can get naked and fool around before he gets back.”
What’d he say? I shook my head as his asinine suggestion captured my attention, which I figured was the point. It was far better for me to be annoyed than panicked and hysterical. “You really are an ass,” I said, reaching for his shirt and tugging it out from his pants as fast as I could. “Just sit there and shut up.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” he muttered, trying to be funny but looking very near to passing out. “A woman who knows what she wants.”
Nothing that was occurring was what I wanted. “Alright, Smartass,” I said, keeping the banter going as much for myself as for him. “I’m going to pull your shirt off over your right side and head first,” I said, doing exactly that as quickly as I could.
He sucked in his breath and clenched his jaw.
“Now, lean up just a little.”
He did, moving just enough to where I could get the shirt the rest of the way off, pulling it quickly off his left shoulder. He cursed through gritted teeth and beads of sweat broke out across his face as I pulled it the rest of the way off his arm.
I hurriedly put one large stack of gauze against the wound on the front side of his shoulder and had him hold it with his right hand. He wasn’t doing a great job, but it was good enough. He was slumped so I could access the back side, which was probably worse than the front although I was really trying hard not to really think about it. I put two stacks of gauze there then folded his tee shirt behind that and had him lean back against the car to put pressure that way. It wasn’t fully effective so I put one hand over the top of the wound on his back and took over holding pressure on the front as well. As I did, his hand dropped to his lap with a thud.
“That’ll ruin your day,” he muttered.
“You’re going to be okay,” I said, hoping it was true. Then, realizing that if I went soft and coddling on him he’d probably crack, I added, “But I’m guessing it’s gonna leave a scar.”
“I’ve had worse,” he muttered, closing his eyes, “on my heart.”
&nb
sp; “Oh, please,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I wouldn’t have figured you for having one of those things.”
He didn’t even try to respond to my comment, which was not a good sign. He’d lost a lot of blood and I could only hope that I had stopped the majority of the flow. I knew I had to keep him conscious if I could, so conversation was essential. Only a few minutes ago, I’d had a whole list of things I wanted to chat with him about. Now, I couldn’t remember any of them.
I caught a glimpse of movement up on the road. From where I was sitting, I could only see two pickups off to the left at the top of the driveway. Red lights still flashed on both and I could see someone moving behind and between them. I figured the volunteer firefighter guys had wisely retreated from the line of fire and had no idea that anyone else down here needed help.
The faint sound of a siren in the distance told me some kind of emergency vehicle was on the way. I sincerely hoped it was an ambulance since Gilbert Moore needed to be heading to a hospital very soon. He was trying really hard to be tough, but he was wearing down fast and I knew he could easily slip into shock. He wasn’t my only worry, of course, since I’d just watched a helicopter speed away with my badly injured mother, and the man I loved was out there in the dark somewhere with a killer. I also conveniently glossed over the fact my hiding spot was in no way a safe zone and kept my mind on the task at hand, which was keeping the big man next to me conscious.
“My mother says you’re a liar,” I blurted out, the words coming without thought.
That got his attention and he cracked his eyes open a little. “So do my ex-wives and former girlfriends.”
“Then I’d say there’s probably some truth to it, Mister Moore, your character being the common denominator in the equation.”
“I’m fine,” he snorted. “I just have a bad picker, that’s all.”
“Oh, I see. Your only fault is that you choose defective women. If your picker worked, you’d be able to find one that believed your lies and would let you get away with whatever it is you want to get away with. If only you could pick the right woman, there wouldn’t be any problems.”
He scowled. “I don’t think I like you.”
“Well, then you better hope you don’t die because you’d like Doctor-Doctor-Doctor Travis even less. He wouldn’t be nearly as nice about pointing out your character flaws as I am.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” My arms were getting tired from the strain so I tried to shift around to make myself more comfortable and keep pressure on his shoulder at the same time. I kept my fingers as steady as possible as I moved, but he groaned a little anyway. “Sorry,” I said sincerely. I hated anyone having to be in pain, even a jackass.
“So your mother says I’m a liar.” He closed his eyes again. “I don’t even know who your mother is.”
“That makes one person in two counties,” I muttered. “Lucille Jackson. She owns what’s left of this cabin.”
“Oh. Her.” He frowned but kept his eyes closed. “She’s probably the one who shot me. She threatened it often enough when we were working out behind her house. Bob just said to ignore her so we did.”
“I’d blame her too except that she was on that helicopter that just left. The cabin blew up and nearly killed her.”
“So that’s what happened,” he said. “She gonna make it?”
In medical terms, I couldn’t say for sure, but in Lucille terms I could. “Oh, she’ll make it. She’s gonna be really pissed off if her hip is broken, and someone may very well die because of it, but it won’t be her.”
He snorted a little, understanding exactly what I meant. Then the reality of the situation dawned on him. “Where’s Bob?”
“I haven’t seen him,” I said truthfully.
“Was he in the cabin?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, again, truthfully. I didn’t like holding back what I knew, but in this case he had enough to worry about. “So why are you here?”
“I’ve known Bob for years,” he said. “I knew he was staying out here for a while so when I heard an explosion then a helicopter over this direction, I figured I’d better come check on him.”
“What were you doing for him out behind my mother’s house?”
“Test well,” he said, his voice getting softer. “Gas pocket. Big one.”
The faint siren had turned into at least two loud sirens that were getting very close. Of the pickups parked along the road, the two that I could see had backed up, clearing the driveway. A sheriff’s car with blue lights flashing and siren blaring wheeled off the road and zoomed down the driveway toward us. He stopped a few feet away, sandwiching us between the two vehicles. Leroy jumped out and crouched down beside us, eyeing Gilbert. “Ambulance is right behind me. Lucky it was already headed out here after the first call. Couldn’t have gotten the helicopter back here that fast.”
Yes, it was very lucky, and I was incredibly relieved about that part.
Leroy jumped back in the car and made a call to the guys up on hill, telling them to get down here to us when the ambulance came.
“Leroy, the guy who shot Gilbert is still out there. Jerry’s gone to look for him. There were gunshots at first, but not in the last couple of minutes. You’ve got to go help him.”
Leroy nodded, his jowls jiggling with every bob of his head. “Which way?”
I told him where the shots had come from and he scurried back to his car and grabbed a shotgun. As he headed out, I felt compelled to urge him not to shoot Jerry. He seemed to take it okay, just nodded and scurried toward the same patch of trees that Jerry had. They did not provide as much protection for Leroy, but no shots were fired so he made another run for it and was out of my line of vision.
Other sirens wailed and as I looked up the road, I saw that an ambulance had turned down the drive and was now backing in behind Leroy’s car.
“Looks like your ride is here,” I said to Gilbert.
“Good thing,” he said. “Because you ain’t worth shit at comforting a man who’s dying.”
“And here I thought we’d sort of bonded, kind of a ‘Beauty and the Beast’ thing.”
He grunted and turned his face toward me then reached up and squeezed my arm. “Thanks for helping me.” He stared at me, or maybe through me, for a few long seconds. “You tell Sheriff Parker that he’s a lucky guy to have you. You tell him I said that.”
“I will,” I said, smiling. “It will be a refreshing change from what he usually hears.”
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Two EMTs, a man and a woman, jumped from the back of the ambulance and knelt down beside us. Once again, I told the professionals what had happened. They checked Gilbert over as I talked, letting me continue to hold the pressure as they did what they needed to otherwise. They were moving so fast I really don’t know what all they did, I just saw a pads and wraps coming toward his shoulder and then they told me to move away. I did and they somehow had him trussed up and ready to move in mere seconds.
From out of nowhere, other people appeared, including the volunteer firefighters who’d been at the top of the road. Apparently, once the ambulance arrived they had gotten word on what was going on and took the chance to come down as well.
“We’re going to get a stretcher for you, Mister Moore,” the female EMT said.
“Like hell you are,” Gilbert said, shaking his head. “There’s a sniper in the trees ready to pick us off. I can walk.”
I had doubts about the walking part, but he was definitely right about the exposure. The less time anyone was between the car and the back of the ambulance, the better.
“You’re to come with us,” the man said to me as he helped Gilbert to his feet. “Sheriff’s orders.”
“No,” I said automatically then I realized that if I did, I could be with my mother. I also realized I would be leaving Jerry in the woods with a killer. I knew I couldn’t really help him, but I wouldn’t leave him either. “No, I’m
staying here. Now hurry.”
The woman ran to the back of the ambulance and jumped inside. The other EMT and the two firefighters helped Gilbert to his feet. Technically, they didn’t seem to need me anymore, but I wanted to stay close just in case. If he did start going down, having an extra set of hands would still help.
Once he got his balance, he seemed to get a burst of energy and hurried toward the ambulance. I followed, but stayed out of the way as the three men climbed with him inside.
Pop.
I heard and felt the trace of the bullet as it whizzed past my ear. I automatically dropped to the ground and scuttled back to my hiding spot beside the Expedition. The EMTs and firefighters stared at me for a moment, as if they wanted to grab me and hurl me inside with them. I shook my head and motioned for them to go on. One guy jumped out and ran toward me as the other slammed the back doors on the ambulance. Within seconds it was zooming up to the road.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
“Get in the car,” he yelled.
That was exactly where I was headed and I didn’t need him to tell me. I jerked open the passenger door and crawled inside, another burst of adrenalin sending my heart racing.
The firefighter climbed in beside me. “Stay down.”
I crawled forward and scooted myself upright where I could pop my head up and see out the windows if I needed to. “Hi, I’m Jolene,” I said. “Come here often?”
He shook his head and shushed me.
Fine. I can be quiet if I need to. I hugged my knees to my chest, letting my thoughts go where they would.
The last three shots had sounded different—distant, not directed at me, and maybe even from a different gun. But who had fired them? Jerry? Leroy? The sniper? I had no way of knowing. Maybe it was because of all I’d been through in the last two days or maybe I was just tired, but I didn’t panic. I had plenty of reasons to, I just didn’t. I also, for once, didn’t consider mounting a rescue for Jerry. Adding my unarmed and unskilled presence would be a liability to him not an asset, so I stayed put, trusting that he could take care of things just fine without me.
