Page 43 of Property of Whiskey

First, she needs away from here. I pull out my phone.

Bullet answers on the fourth ring.

“What?”

“Bring the van.” I look at the blood soaking through Kaylee’s shirt. “Not Amelia’s.”

A chair scrapes hard across the floor on his end. “You find her?”

“Yeah.”

“How bad?”

I look at Kaylee. “Bad enough.”

“Where are you?”

“West side of the old complex. Logging-road entrance.”

“I’m ten out.”

“Make it five.”

“You riding with a jet engine now?”

“Bullet.”

“I’m coming.”

“Come alone.”

“That smart?”

“Nope. And bring the van. She needs room to lie down.”

Kaylee is watching me.

“Who was that?”

“Friend.”

“He police?”

“Hell no.”

That gets the faintest reaction from her.

“You got family?”

Her face folds.

I wish I hadn’t asked.

“Mama.”

“We’ll get you to her.”

“No.” The answer comes sharp enough to surprise both of us. “No police. No hospital. No mama.”