Chasing a Blond Moon(34)

“Just clean it and tape it up for now,” Service said. If Vince was coming, he could do the real repairs.

“Not a good idea,” the Troop said.

“Just do it,” Service said, holding out his arm and watching the blood pooling.

Before Vince Vilardo arrived, the drug team commander called a quick meeting. He was a sergeant who had just moved up from a downstate post, tall and businesslike.

“You two were supposed to wait,” he said.

“Bite me,” McCants said. She had cut her head in the scuffle, and had a bandage wrapped around her forehead.

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” the commander said, holding up his hands.

“Fuck off,” McCants repeated. Service squeezed her arm gently and calmly explained. “We waited, but we heard a shot and had to move to it. The guy appeared in the doorway, the girl we cuffed shot him, then she turned and popped the other girl. Then the trailer went up and the second girl came flying out on fire.”

“You saw the girl shoot the man?”

“No,” Service said. “We saw him in the door, heard the shot, saw him fall out. Then she appeared in the door brandishing her gun. She said she’d ‘shot the monster.’”

“Why were you two here?”

“We had a tip that Verse, the dead guy, was just out on parole, in town with two minor females, that they were high and he was armed and bragging about shooting deer.”

“Why didn’t you call for help?”

“Call who and for what? There’s one county car and one state car on duty at night,” McCants said with obvious irritation. “As soon as we realized it was a meth lab, we called you guys.”

“I just wish it had gone down differently,” the team commander said.

“It went down the way it went down,” Service said. “The burned girl?”

“Not good,” the commander said. “GSW to right chest and third-degree burns to the head and shoulders.”

“Man,” McCants said.

“The truck over there is stolen,” Service said. “We called it in.”

“Okay,” the team commander said. “Let’s all stand down, let hazmat get to work on the site, not that there’s a hell of a lot left.”

Service watched three people in special suits move into the ruins. They looked like spacemen.

“That’s our fault?” McCants snapped.

Service squeezed her arm again.

“I didn’t say that,” the commander said. “Did either of you draw or discharge a weapon?”

“No,” Service said.

“No,” McCants said.

Service was relieved that neither of them had drawn.

“Relax,” the commander said, offering a pack of cigarettes. Service took one and let the man light it for him. “Rough?”

“Rougher to be dead,” Service said. “Everything was quiet and then the shit hit the fan.”

“Welcome to the drug war,” the cop said.

When Vince Vilardo arrived he took one look at Grady Service and his jaw dropped.

“Grady?”

“Present and still accounted for.”

Vince’s normally steady hand was shaking as he looked at the wound. “You want to go back to the hospital so I can do this right?”

“Can you do it here?”

“You’re going back to the hospital,” his friend said in his doctorly voice.

Service didn’t argue.

One of the team members brought over a hunting knife. There was blood on the blade.

“It was where you had the scuffle,” she reported.

Service thought back. The girl had said she was going to cut off the monster’s head. He should have picked up on that. The presence of a gun often blocked out the presence of other threats. Rule one of cop work: Pay attention to everything you see and hear.

McCants sat sullenly next to Service. “You okay?” he asked.

“Headache,” she said. “Did we fuck up?” she whispered.

“No way,” he said. “It just went down and we did what we could.”

“Still,” she said. “One dead, maybe two.”

“Forget it, Candi. Move on.”

They both rode behind the ambulance in Vilardo’s Suburban. Verse’s body and the injured girl were in the ambulance. The other girl was in a squad headed for Munising to be booked. Members of the drug team said they would follow with the officers’ vehicles.

“How’s Kate Nordquist?” Service asked.

“What about Kate?” McCants asked, perking up.

“She’s got a seriously injured leg,” Vilardo said. “She could lose it.”

Service winced at the thought of amputation.

“Kate?” McCants said.