“You’re coming down,” Jason said.
She nodded.
“I can help you out.”
“I thought Tommy handled your stash.”
“Not all of it. So, want some of mine?”
Marla hated Jason. He was a real jerk. Treated her like vermin most of the time. When he wasn’t hitting on her. But right now did she have a choice? Tommy, where the hell are you?
“What’ve you got?” Marla asked.
Jason patted his jean pockets. “Meth. Mexican Black Tar. What do you want?”
“A little of both.”
He stepped close to her. Jason was small and thin, maybe five-eight and 140. She was a good two inches taller. His smile was more a sneer than a sign of friendliness. His closeness made her stomach clench.
“How much money you got?” Jason asked.
She stuffed her hand into her pocket and fingered the folded bills. “Twenty-four.”
Jason shrugged. “That won’t get you much.”
“Look, it’s all I got.” She looked beyond him into the darkness of the park, hoping Tommy would miraculously appear. But her life didn’t have any miracles attached to it. It hadn’t for a long time. Maybe it never had. Not even when things had been good. “You sure you don’t know where Tommy is?”
“I told you, he was supposed to be here. An hour ago. But he’s been a bit flakey lately.”
“Shit.”
“I can give you a quarter of meth for twenty but a quarter of tar will be another twenty.”
She wanted the meth but she needed the heroin. Both would be real good.
“Can I owe you for the smack?”
He rolled his eyes. “You know this is a cash and carry business.”
“But you know me. You know I’m good for it.”
“Do I? Exactly how much is your salary now?”
She wanted to scratch the smirk right off his face. “Why are you being this way? Can’t you help me out here?”
“How would you pay me back?”
“I’m pretty good at panhandling. I’ll have the twenty well before noon tomorrow.”
He scratched one ear. “Maybe. But you’ll need more product tomorrow. What then?”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “Come on. I need something now.”
“And I told you what it’d cost. Unless.”
“Unless what?”
Another sneer-smile. “We can work something else out.”
CHAPTER 7
7 HOURS EARLIER
Dalton didn’t think much of Tanner’s Crossroads. Way too small and backwoods for his tastes. Memphis had everything he needed. Big, busy, and filled with bad guys. Some bad cops too, for that matter. Which was good for business and for staying out of a cage. Besides, if Memphis had been good enough for Elvis, it was good enough for him.
Here in this little speck on the map he had no resources, no backup. He knew no one and barely knew the town’s layout. Just enough for a quick in and out. That possibility was gone now. Unless they cut and ran for Memphis that is. Could Dennie make it that far? It sure didn’t look that way. But Memphis had the doc he needed, and the remainder of his crew. About now they were probably at some bar, maybe Turk’s Lounge, Frankie’s place. Should he call them in? If he did, Frankie would know he had fucked up. Better to let that news drop after he had resolved everything. Frankie liked his guys to be self-sufficient, think on their feet, and adapt to the situation.
But, what could he do here and now to smooth over his mistake and save Dennie?
It was at the church that the idea came to him. Who said the Lord couldn’t supply inspiration? As ideas go, it was a good one. Risky, sure, but it just might work. He had been standing near the open rear cargo area of the SUV, studying the back of the church while keeping an eye on the county road beyond, Jessie leaning over to apply pressure to Dennie’s abdomen with the wadded towel. The bleeding seemed to have slowed, maybe even stopped. For now anyway.
Dalton had been racking his brain for some way out of this mess. He flashed on a girl he had long ago dated. He couldn’t recall her name but remembered she’d been smart. A college girl who had majored in English Lit or some such. Even went to church and did all the other right stuff. She was dating some clean-cut athlete but Dalton had been her bad boy on the side. Worked for him, and apparently for her too.
It’d been a rainy night so they retreated to his apartment. She had been studying Shakespeare, lying in bed next to him, while he watched a baseball game on TV. She rambled on about some play she was reading. Something about the forest coming to some castle. He had thought that was odd since forests couldn’t move but he let it ride. He didn’t want to stir up some discussion. Not when he was finishing his cigarette and getting ready for round two of sex.
The memory of that moment flashed forward and the idea popped in his head. Who would have thought English Lit might save his brother’s life?
Now, Dalton rolled down the county highway, back toward town. The two-lane blacktop crossed over Tanner Creek, the road now Main Street. Dalton kept his speed under the 35 miles-an-hour posted limit.
“Where are we going?” Jessie asked.
“I got an idea,” Dalton said.
“What is it?”
“Hold on. You’ll see.” He glanced at Jessie. “If it works, that is.”
They entered the downtown area. There was little traffic. Speed limit now 25. Dalton eased to a stop at a red light. To his right was the city park. Trees, park benches, a couple of walking paths he could see—it was dark and mostly empty now. He saw only two people. A couple standing beneath a broad oak, probably lovers looking for some alone time. Just ahead, on the left, was the emergency entrance to the hospital. When the light cycled, he slow rolled past. A paved ramp led up a gentle slope to the two-story structure. A backlit white sign with red lettering that said “Emergency Department” stretched above double glass doors. Two nurses walked out, chatting
