“Where’re we going?”
“Janks Field.”
She let out a laugh, throwing back her head, then shaking it. When the laugh was over, she said, “That explains plenty.”
“Still want to come?”
“You bet. But what’s the problem?”
“Slim got attacked by a dog.”
Lee grimaced. “Slim being Frances?” she asked.
“Right. Anyway, it didn’t hurt her much, but she fell down and got some cuts. I was afraid she’d bleed all over the place if she tried to walk home, so I left her there with Rusty. They’re on top of that snack stand.”
“What about the dog?” Lee asked.
“It was still there when I left. But it can’t get to them as long as they stay on the roof.”
“So the idea is to drive out and rescue them?”
“That’s it,” I said.
“No problem. Just let me have a minute to get dressed. Go ahead and grab yourself a Coke. You look like you could use one.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“If you want to wash up or something, feel free.”
I nodded, and she left the kitchen. When she was out of sight, I sighed.
Cheer up, I told myself. She’ll be back.
Sighing again, I stepped over to the sink. I washed the dried blood off my hands, then splashed cold water onto my face. I used a wet paper towel to clean the sweat and grime off my arms and chest and belly. After that, I took a Coke bottle out of the refrigerator and pried its cap off.
I only managed a few swallows before Lee came in. She looked almost the same as before. Now, however, white shorts showed below the hanging front of her shirt. She wore white sneakers, but no socks.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
“All set.”
“Want me to drive?”
“Sure.” I tossed the keys to her. She caught them, then stepped past me and grabbed her purse off the table.
On our way to the front door, she said, “We’ll come straight back here unless Slim turns out to need a doctor or something.”
“Good idea.”
Outside, Lee held the screen door.
I reached for the main door, meaning to shut it behind me, but she said, “Let’s just leave it open. The more air gets in, the better.”
So I left it open and stepped outside.
The screen door banged shut as I followed Lee down the stairs.
Walking ahead of me, she reached behind herself and hitched up the tail of her pale blue shirt. Both the seat pockets of her shorts were bulging. From one, she removed a white tin of bandages. From the other, she took a squeeze bottle of Bactine anticeptic. She dropped them into her purse as she walked.
Over at the driveway, she pulled open the driver’s door of her pickup truck. I ran around to the other side. Still hanging on to my Coke, I opened the passenger door with one hand and climbed up.
Lee’s purse was on the seat between us.
Leaning forward slightly, she punched a key into the ignition. She gave it a twist and the engine chugged to life. Then she sped backward out of the driveway, swung into the street and started working the forward gears, picking up speed. “We’re off!” she proclaimed.
“Sure are.”
She grinned at me. “How about a drink of that?” she asked.
“Sure.” I handed the Coke to her. She didn’t wipe the bottle’s lip at all, just raised it to her mouth, tilted it high, and took a couple of swallows. Through the pale green of the glass, the Coke was a rich brownish red color.
There was still an inch of pop in the bottle when she handed it back to me. “Go ahead and finish it,” she said.
I nearly always wiped off the lip of a bottle before drinking after anyone. But not this time. I put it into my mouth, knowing her mouth had just been there. She wasn’t wearing any lipstick, but I almost thought I could taste her lips.
“So what were you three doing out at Janks Field?” she asked. “Looking for bones?”
