“Are you done already?” Charlie says.
“I’ve done what I can, but we need to get Cameron to a hospital. Unless you plan to shoot us.”
“We need a ride home,” Charlie says. “Right, Carlos?”
“Are you serious?” Carlos says. “You plan to show him where we live?”
“Try to remember. We’re Siamese twins. If Dr. Box wants to know where we live he could simply ask around. How many conjoined twins live in the area, do you think?”
Carlos says, “We held a gun on him!”
“So?”
“We played ring toss with a dead guy’s dick.”
“Well, who wouldn’t?” Charlie says.
Me, for one.
Charlie says, “Dr. Box, when you report these events to the police, are you going to mention us?”
“Not if you let us go. Assuming you can get your car off the property before the police show up.”
“Mom can change the tire. But our cell phone doesn’t work out here. We’ll need a ride home.”
“How far is that?”
“Less than eight miles. It’s not out of the way if you’re heading to Dayton.”
“Why would I go to Dayton?”
“That’s where the closest hospital is. You did say you were taking Cameron to the hospital, right?”
“I did.” I look at the car. “Can you guys fit in the back seat?”
Charlie says, “I don’t think there’s enough room for everyone. How about if I go with you and Carlos stays here?”
Carlos says, “You’re not funny, you know.”
The twins spend five minutes trying to climb in the back seat of the Mercedes, but it’s not working.
“Wait a minute,” Charlie says.
The brothers move out of our hearing and talk to each other a minute, then shuffle back.
“We’ve chosen to trust you,” Charlie says.
“How so?”
“You can take Cameron to the hospital. On the way, when you get a signal, call the phone number I’m going to give you. That’s our mom. Tell her where we are. She’ll come here, change our tire, and get our van started.”
“Your mom can do all that?”
“All that and more!” Charlie says.
“Sorry guys, but I can’t see well enough to drive.”
“Good point,” Charlie says.
Willow walks up and stands beside me.
“We need to get going,” she says.
Carlos says, “the Doc stays with us.”
“I can live with that,” Willow says, with far more enthusiasm than necessary.
“No,” I say. “I can’t trust Willow to go to the hospital or talk to the police, for reasons that would take too long to explain. Plus, I’m a doctor. It’s safer for Cameron if I’m with her, in case she goes into shock or starts convulsing.”
“He can’t drive, and I’m not staying here with you guys,” Willow says.
“Then I’m afraid we’re at an impasse,” Charlie says, pointing the gun at me.
“Just a minute,” I say.
I motion for Willow to follow me a short distance. Then say, “I don’t suppose there’s a working phone in Maggie’s house.”
“I’m sure she canceled the phone service before moving out.”
“Can you get inside?”
“If the key’s where used to be.” She looks at Maggie’s house, then back at me. “Why?”
“If I slice the tissue beneath my eyes I’ll be able to see well enough to make it to the nearest hospital. These guys seem relatively harmless. I think I can talk them into letting you stay in the house with the door locked until their mom shows up.”
“How do you expect me to get home?”
“I’ll come back to get you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I swear I will.”
“I can’t even trust you to take Cameron to the hospital,” she says.
“Why not?”
“She’s a gunshot victim. As soon as she’s admitted, the police will start asking questions. They’ll want to investigate the crime scene. Bobby’s here, I’m here-you’ll be in the hospital getting patched up, or in the interrogation room at the police station.”
“So?”
“I don’t like it.”
We look at each other a minute. Finally I say, “How did you and Cameron wind up with Chris Fowler’s bedspread?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Breaking and entering’s a felony.”
“As you should know.”
“True. But when you add theft?”
“Yeah?”
“All I’m saying, you might need to come up with a good explanation.”
“If I do, it’ll be better than your explanation of how Bobby died from a flesh wound.”
“Are you serious? The guy was on heroin, coke, and Black Stone powder. He beat me up, shot Cameron, and shot himself in the leg. That’s a lot of trauma to the system.”
“The coroner might wonder about the nutmeg.”
“Bobby must’ve done that on his own, to stop the bleeding.”
“That’s your story?”
“It is.”
“Then you’ve got problems,” Willow says.
“Why?”
“That theory won’t match my testimony. Or Cameron’s.”
“What are you, a lawyer?”
“No, but my father is.”
“What you’re saying, we’re at an impasse.”
“Looks like it,” Willow says.
“In that case I’ve got another idea,” I say.
“Tell me after I pee!”
With that, she walks to the porch of Maggie’s house, reaches behind one of the steps for the key, and uses it to gain entry. Moments later, she comes out, locks the door, replaces the key, and I tell her my plan for getting us all where we need to go at the same time.
“I like it,” she says.
24
Willow’s got the flashers on as she drives the back roads to Dayton at five miles an hour. The twins are sitting on the hood of the Mercedes. Charlie’s gun is pointed at Willow. If she tries any “funny stuff” he’ll put six bullets through the windshield.
