She’s in no mood for compliments. “Look, Detective, I haven’t treated a wound like that since I was fresh out of nursing school. I stopped the bleeding and cleaned up the leg, but he needs serious medical attention. I’m not sure my dressing will hold. You shouldn’t have come here.”
“I had no choice.”
“Why?”
“You’ll have to ask him.”
Aiden Phillips had given me the location of Gina’s house, about halfway between Reedville and Richmond. He insisted that he couldn’t go to the hospital. The authorities would turn him in, hesaid. And once he was in the system, he’d never get out alive. There were people who would make sure of that, he said.
Before I could ask him who he was talking about, he passed out in the car. But I had more immediate worries. I was afraid he’d bleed out.
Now he’s wrapped in a blanket in Gina’s guest room. The wound was through-and-through the muscle. Anybody who’s been in combat will tell you that if you have to get shot, that’s the best way to do it. Clear entry and exit points. No bullet left in the body.
From what I could see as Gina worked, Phillips was hit in his topmost right quad. The bullet had grazed his other leg on the way out but left only a scratch. No vital organs or structures touched. Manhood intact.
Gina storms past me now and heads down the hall to check on Phillips again. I grab a roll of paper towels from the counter and start to wipe the blood off her tile floor. When I turn around, Gina is holding up her cell phone.
“I don’t care what you say. I’m calling 911. If he goes into shock and dies in my bedroom, I could lose my job. My nursing license. I could be arrested. You know this is not a first aid situation. He needs medical treatment. There’s a firehouse five minutes away.”
I could stop her. But I don’t. Because she’s right. Phillips should go to the hospital. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get lost in the system. At this point, I think I’ve earned that kind of clout. Gina dials and puts the phone on speaker.
The dispatcher picks up. “This is 911. What’s your emergency?”
Gina’s tone is calm and precise. She gives her address and says, “I need an ambulance here. Adult male, GSW to the upper leg.”
“Is he breathing?”
“Yes. I’m an RN. He’s breathing and his vitals are within normal limits. But he needs transport ASAP.”
“I’m rolling the unit right now. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you until they arrive?”
“No. I’m good. Thanks. Just … tell them to hurry.”
Gina hangs up, tosses her phone onto a table, and slumps down in a chair. She stares at me. “So are you going to tell me who the hell shot him?”
“Gina, you can’t be involved in this.”
“Involved?I just had my hand inside that man’s leg!”
“I don’t want to tell you anything that would jam you up later. The less you know, the better.”
“Jam me up how?”
“I can’t explain. Look, Aiden trusted you enough to make me drive him here. Now you need to trust me. I’ll handle the paramedics when they get here, and I’ll ride in the bus with Aiden. I’m not letting him out of my sight. If anybody gives you a hard time about this, I promise, I’ll have your back.”
“You damn well better.”
I can already hear the whine of sirens in the distance. Gina gets up, opens her front door, and holds it open with a brick. Then she goes back into the kitchen and grabs her blood pressure monitor. “I’m checking him once more before they take him.”
She heads down the hall.
Two seconds later I hear “Goddamn it, Aiden!”
I run to the bedroom. The covers are thrown back. Blood has soaked through the medical pad all the way to the mattress. The window is open.
Aiden Phillips is gone.
CHAPTER 98
