Striking Out Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Making you light my evil weeds for me.”
    “It’s okay, Kate. Everything’s going to be okay.”
    I looked at him. He looked as scared as I felt, but he was trying to be strong for me. I started to cry. To stop myself, I crossed my arms across my stomach and rocked back and forth. Then Sally was there, and the two of them led me to the car.

Chapter 7
    I was out of the car before it stopped. Jim was waiting at the Emergency entrance. I lost it when I saw his face, drawn and pale, and the blood on his clothes. There was a lot of blood.
    He led me around a corner to a chair in the waiting area, then got me a coffee from the battered vending machine against the wall. It was foul, but it gave me something to focus on.
    “Tell me about it,” I said.
    “We got a tip. A guy on the drug squad got a call from one of his snitches to check out this guy Jerome Kinton. We went to his place but he wasn’t there. Just his kid brother. Just a little guy. A little guy with an attitude.”
    He drew a shaky breath.
    “He went into the next room, said he had to use the washroom, came back with a gun. Walked in shooting. Andy didn’t have a chance. By the time I got my gun out it was too late.”
    I closed my eyes.
    “Where?” I asked.
    “An apartment on Jarvis south of Gerrard.”
    “No, where was he hit?”
    “Oh. In the chest.”
    I took a deep breath.
    “They’ve got the best chest guy in the city working on him,” Jim said.
    “How long has he been in there?”
    Jim looked at his watch.
    “About an hour,” he said. “They should be able to tell us something soon.”
    “Can I see him?”
    “They won’t let anyone in,” he said. “I tried.”
    “What about the one who shot him? What happened to him?”
    “He’s in there too. They don’t think he’s going to make it.”
    I looked at him. He looked scared.
    “First time in fifteen years I’ve fired a gun,” he said.
    “Are you okay?”
    He shrugged, then got up from his chair. He walked over to a trash can and threw his coffee cup in, then came back and sat down, heavily. I took his hand.
    “What about Carol?” His wife.
    He nodded.
    “I called. She knows that I’ve got to be here. At least until we know something more. The investigators are on their way, too. To question me. See if I should be charged.”
    We both watched an ambulance pull out of the driveway as a cab came in. Two black women got out. The younger of the two, who looked grim and angry, had her arms wrapped around the older one, who was crying. Sally and T.C. came in behind them. They saw us and crossed the room. The two women went to the reception desk.
    “Is there any more word?” Sally asked.
    I shook my head.
    “I’ve got to see him, Jim.”
    “Just hang on,” Jim said. “There’s nothing you can do.”
    “I could see him,” I said. “I could see with my own eyes that he’s still alive.”
    Tears stopped me. Jim put his arm around my shoulder. Sally sat down on the other side of me and took my hand.
    The big swinging doors by the reception desk opened, and a doctor came out, looking grave. I got to my feet, but he went to the two women by the desk and spoke to them. The older one wailed, hands over her face, and stumbled, as if she would swoon. The doctor looked across the room at us as he held the door for them to go inside.
    “Damn,” Jim said. “That’s got to be the kid’s mother.”
    I sat back down. We waited in silence, willing the clock to move faster. After a few minutes, a couple of guys I vaguely recognized from parties I’d been to with Andy came in the front door. They crossed to us, looking miserable.
    “Sorry, Jim,” the older one said. Jim shrugged.
    “Is there any news?”
    “Nothing. I guess you’re here to talk to me.”
    “There’s no rush.”
    “I just want to wait until the doctor comes back.”
    “That’s fine,” he said, then turned to me. “Ms. Henry, we’ve met before. I’m Staff Inspector Walt Stimac. And this is Bob Flanagan,