Hell To Pay

minutes later, Stella opened her eyes, bloodied in the corners and ringed in black. Her head remained in place as her eyes moved to his, and she squeezed his hand.

“Hey, Stella.”

“Green eyes.”

Her voice was barely audible, and Quinn bent forward and moved his ear close to her mouth. “Say it again?”

“You came.”

“Course I did,” said Quinn. “We’re friends.”

Stella’s lips began to move, but nothing came out. She tried again and said, “Ice.”

A cup of ice chips sat beside Stella’s eyeglasses on a stand next to the gurney. Quinn put the cup to her blistered lips and tilted it so that a few chips slid into her mouth. When he returned the cup to the table he saw a bag at the foot of the gurney containing Stella’s clothing and shoes. A white plastic purse rested atop her possessions.

Quinn stroked her hand. “Wilson do this to you, Stella?”

She nodded, her eyes straining as she looked up at Quinn. Quinn took her glasses off the stand and carefully fitted them on her face.

“Better?”

Stella nodded.

“You tell anyone else that he did this?”

Stella shook her head.

“I don’t want you to tell anyone else, not yet. Do you understand?”

Stella nodded.

“Why did he do this, Stella? Did Jennifer Marshall tell him you’d set up the snatch?”

“She called him,” said Stella. “She’s out again . . . mad at her parents . . . and she called World.”

“All right,” said Quinn. “That’s enough.” The tubes running into her nose were dense now with brown particles, and her hand felt hot beneath his.

“Terry . . .”

“Don’t talk. Sue Tracy, remember her? She’s on her way down. I want you to talk to her when she comes. You need to tell her how to get in touch with your people. Your parents, I mean.”

“Home,” said Stella.

“Sue’s gonna take care of that.”

The nurse returned and told Quinn he had to go. Quinn kissed Stella on her bandaged forehead, told her he’d be back to see her later, and walked out from behind the curtain. The cop was waiting for him by the swinging exit doors.

“She say anything?” said the cop.

“Not a word,” said Quinn, hitting a wall button and going through a space in the opening doors. He yanked his cell off his belt clip and dialed Strange as he walked. He had Strange’s location by the time he left the building and hit fresh air.

Quinn looked ahead. Sue Tracy was coming down the sidewalk toward him, a cigarette in her hand. She hit the smoke and pitched the butt onto the street as they met.

“What happened?” said Tracy.

“Wilson got to her. He worked on her with his hands and a knife.”

“Why?”

“From what I can make out? Jennifer Marshall ran away from home again. She called Wilson and hipped him to Stella.” Quinn looked around, distracted, nervous as a cat. “Listen, I gotta go.”

“Wait a minute.” Tracy grabbed his elbow. “I think you need to take a deep breath here.”

“Go take a look at her yourself, Sue. See how peaceful it makes you feel.”

“All right, it’s rough. We’ve both seen plenty.”

“Stay in neutral if that’s what works for you.”

“You got a history, Terry. Don’t make this an excuse to settle some score just because some lowlife looked at you wrong and called you a girl.”

“Right. Here’s the part where you say, ‘We live in two different worlds. Yours is too violent. I don’t want to live in your world anymore.’ Go ahead and say it, Sue, because I’ve heard it from women before.”

“Bullshit. I’m not giving up, and I’m not looking to walk away. Don’t put me down just because I’m worried about you.”

Quinn pulled his arm free of her grasp. “Like I said, I gotta bounce.”

“Where are you off to?”