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Chapter 21
Chapter 21
“Wake up, Jack. It’s almost seven o’clock and I have to get to work.” He did not respond. “Come on, Jack, you’ve been asleep all night.” Ross opened one eye for one heartbeat and then closed it again. “Hey, it’s me.” He opened both eyes wide.
“Sandra, good lord, you surprised me. I just got here a little while ago – how the hell did you know?”
“Never mind, I’m here, but not for long, and don’t start thinking I’m going to show up every time somebody shoots you. What happened this time?”
Jack shook his head and flinched as the movement was painful, and then blinked rapidly. “Same guy, Sandra. You remember Gus Mendoza – he got me again. I couldn’t believe it; it was like a bad dream.”
“Where did he shoot you this time?”
“Right outside my house. I mean he shot me in my side, but it was a ricochet, and not too serious. I’m going home this morning. It’s real good to see you again. I think of you often.”
“Yeah, me and Mendoza, no doubt. I’m on my way to work, but I had to come by to see if you were going to be okay. What will you do about the guy who shot you? Maybe he will shoot straighter next time and I will only have to see about you once more, you know?”
“Well, Sandra, I had my gun with me last night, and I shot him, too. Maybe they’ll catch him today. At least they know he’s in Baton Rouge and wounded.
Look, I’m going to be hobbling around for a while – rehabbing from all this. Doing a lot of walking in the neighborhoods, getting my strength back, you know what I’m saying? Maybe, one day on a weekend, when you’re off . . .”
Sandra was headed out of the room, and she turned back and put her finger to her lips and motioned to him to shut up. “Look both ways before you cross the streets, Jack.” and she was gone. Ross sighed and fell back onto his pillow and flinched again with the pain.
“I’m next,” said a police officer, slipping into the room before the door could swing shut. “I waited until your lady left. They told me at the station you knew the guy who shot you last night. Is that right? I brought a picture for you to ID.” The name tag on her blue shirt said ‘Riley’. She displayed a picture, printed in color on copier paper.
“Yeah, that’s Gus Mendoza. I’m pretty sure I hit him last night, too. Why are his eyes closed in your picture?”
“That’s because he’s dead, Mr. Ross. You killed him.”
“Killed him!? The last I saw of him he was running for his car, and limping. I thought I had hit him in the leg! How can he be dead from that?”
“The guy drove to the emergency room at Lady of the Lake Hospital and parked his car in the lot. He opened the door, but he never got out. He sat there and bled out in the car. Probably didn’t take long, either, Mr. Ross. You cut the big artery in his groin, and the security guy found him because his door was open and the light was on. If you were shooting at his dick, Mr. Ross, you only missed by a couple inches. All I wanted on this trip was the ID. Prolly the DA’s office will be in touch to talk about the fatality. They will be the ones to decide what to do, you know? Charges and stuff. Take care and get well.” Officer Riley folded the picture and put it back in her uniform pocket and waved goodbye as she left the room.
Ross blinked stupidly and stared at the ceiling, trying to recognize his new status. He had suddenly been identified as a killer, a successful gunfighter and a three-time accuser of Mendoza’s violent sins. In the absence of any witness, surely his plea of self-defense would be accepted and he would avoid prosecution and Gus’ death solved a great problem for him, also. No longer would he have to wonder where Gus was. Maybe later there would be a reaction, but there was none right now. He wondered how Sandra would feel about it when she was told. He needed to stop thinking about Sandra.
Before Riley was gone three minutes a nurse came into the room, moving quickly as nurses do. Her name tag said Caillouet, RN. “Good morning, Mr. Ross. How do you feel today?” She pulled down the sheet that covered him.
“I feel like I’ve been shot”
“There’s a good reason for that, but the doctor says the wound is not deep, and you can go on home this morning. Let’s have a look.” She began to remove the dressing on his hip, and he flinched again and groaned as she touched the area with her fingertip. “Well, it looks okay to me, and I’ve seen a few, lemme tell you. You are a lucky man, Mr. Ross, but you are gonna hurt for a few days, and I will give you a packet of stuff to care for your wound at home. You will laugh when you see this big bruise on your butt. It looks sort of like a pistol.”
Chapter 21
“Wake up, Jack. It’s almost seven o’clock and I have to get to work.” He did not respond. “Come on, Jack, you’ve been asleep all night.” Ross opened one eye for one heartbeat and then closed it again. “Hey, it’s me.” He opened both eyes wide.
“Sandra, good lord, you surprised me. I just got here a little while ago – how the hell did you know?”
“Never mind, I’m here, but not for long, and don’t start thinking I’m going to show up every time somebody shoots you. What happened this time?”
Jack shook his head and flinched as the movement was painful, and then blinked rapidly. “Same guy, Sandra. You remember Gus Mendoza – he got me again. I couldn’t believe it; it was like a bad dream.”
“Where did he shoot you this time?”
“Right outside my house. I mean he shot me in my side, but it was a ricochet, and not too serious. I’m going home this morning. It’s real good to see you again. I think of you often.”
“Yeah, me and Mendoza, no doubt. I’m on my way to work, but I had to come by to see if you were going to be okay. What will you do about the guy who shot you? Maybe he will shoot straighter next time and I will only have to see about you once more, you know?”
“Well, Sandra, I had my gun with me last night, and I shot him, too. Maybe they’ll catch him today. At least they know he’s in Baton Rouge and wounded.
Look, I’m going to be hobbling around for a while – rehabbing from all this. Doing a lot of walking in the neighborhoods, getting my strength back, you know what I’m saying? Maybe, one day on a weekend, when you’re off . . .”
Sandra was headed out of the room, and she turned back and put her finger to her lips and motioned to him to shut up. “Look both ways before you cross the streets, Jack.” and she was gone. Ross sighed and fell back onto his pillow and flinched again with the pain.
“I’m next,” said a police officer, slipping into the room before the door could swing shut. “I waited until your lady left. They told me at the station you knew the guy who shot you last night. Is that right? I brought a picture for you to ID.” The name tag on her blue shirt said ‘Riley’. She displayed a picture, printed in color on copier paper.
“Yeah, that’s Gus Mendoza. I’m pretty sure I hit him last night, too. Why are his eyes closed in your picture?”
“That’s because he’s dead, Mr. Ross. You killed him.”
“Killed him!? The last I saw of him he was running for his car, and limping. I thought I had hit him in the leg! How can he be dead from that?”
“The guy drove to the emergency room at Lady of the Lake Hospital and parked his car in the lot. He opened the door, but he never got out. He sat there and bled out in the car. Probably didn’t take long, either, Mr. Ross. You cut the big artery in his groin, and the security guy found him because his door was open and the light was on. If you were shooting at his dick, Mr. Ross, you only missed by a couple inches. All I wanted on this trip was the ID. Prolly the DA’s office will be in touch to talk about the fatality. They will be the ones to decide what to do, you know? Charges and stuff. Take care and get well.” Officer Riley folded the picture and put it back in her uniform pocket and waved goodbye as she left the room.
Ross blinked stupidly and stared at the ceiling, trying to recognize his new status. He had suddenly been identified as a killer, a successful gunfighter and a three-time accuser of Mendoza’s violent sins. In the absence of any witness, surely his plea of self-defense would be accepted and he would avoid prosecution and Gus’ death solved a great problem for him, also. No longer would he have to wonder where Gus was. Maybe later there would be a reaction, but there was none right now. He wondered how Sandra would feel about it when she was told. He needed to stop thinking about Sandra.
Before Riley was gone three minutes a nurse came into the room, moving quickly as nurses do. Her name tag said Caillouet, RN. “Good morning, Mr. Ross. How do you feel today?” She pulled down the sheet that covered him.
“I feel like I’ve been shot”
“There’s a good reason for that, but the doctor says the wound is not deep, and you can go on home this morning. Let’s have a look.” She began to remove the dressing on his hip, and he flinched again and groaned as she touched the area with her fingertip. “Well, it looks okay to me, and I’ve seen a few, lemme tell you. You are a lucky man, Mr. Ross, but you are gonna hurt for a few days, and I will give you a packet of stuff to care for your wound at home. You will laugh when you see this big bruise on your butt. It looks sort of like a pistol.”