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before. She put her arms around his neck, for lack of anything better to do with them. He stiffened at her touch. |
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Yes, something was bugging Mr. McCall. She'd have to interrogate him once they were alone. |
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''My van's out back," Danny said, leading the way through the house. "It's customized so I can make house calls or transport patients to the hospital if I need to. D.J. can lie on the stretcher I installed. Chris, you sit with her, and stay out of sight." |
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McCall stepped out onto the back porch. As Danny had promised, a large blue van awaited them. The back doors stood open, revealing an interior that reminded D.J. of a makeshift ambulance. Chris set her down inside the vehicle, then helped her to recline on the padded stretcher bed. He took the bucket seat next to her. |
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Under normal circumstances D.J. would never have allowed herself to be put to bed like a child. But she couldn't keep her head up without the world starting to spin in a sickening whirl. The way the two men moved, silent but quick, alerted her to the advent of danger. But the leftover lethargy from her ordeal made any sense of urgency fade away on a stream of lassitude. Her shoulder had started to ache, just a whimper here and there, but those whimpers promised screams to follow. D.J. had never been shot beforeand she'd already decided she never wanted to be again. |
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Danny appeared in the open doorway. "We'll be at the cabin before dark. We might have to walk the last mile or so; I don't think Ed's had the road cleared in years. But we'll get there. I promise." He |
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