
“Yes, Little One.”
“Do I hear Friday coming?”
“Sorry, that’s just Wednesday sounding like Friday.”
It is Wednesday Story Day again, and last week, we were left with the lingering sound and the acrid cordite smell of a gunshot. Let’s get back there because there is no other background needed. Someone got shot. It’s that simple.
“Ow ow, ow.”
“Shut up, Wentworth. We got you and your gun. Whoever taught you to shoot didn’t do an outstanding job.”
“I think he hit his foot, Larry.”
“Wentworth, what the hell were you trying to do?”
“This really hurts detective. Call 911.”
“Not till you tell us what’s going on around here.”
“Come on. My foot is killing me.”
“Andrew, call 911. Okay, Wentworth get down on the floor and let me look at your foot for a minute.”
“Damnit Detective, that hurts like a sombitch. What are you doing.”
“I just took off your shoe is all. You have any towels around here?”
“Yeah, there are some in the bathroom.”
“Hang on. I’ll be right back. “
“EMS is on the way, Larry.”
“Thanks, Andrew. Sit with our boy for a minute. I’m going to get some towels and see if we can stop the bleeding.”
“Hurry, will you. I think I’m getting weaker.”
“Hey, Wentworth.”
“Yes, uh, uh. I forget your name.”
“It’s Andrew. It looks like you are going to be okay. I think the bullet just grazed your foot. Took a nice chunk, but don’t think any bones were involved.”
“Yeah, that’s comforting coming from a cop.”
“I’m also a physician.”
“No, shit. Why didn’t you say so?”
“Here are the towels.”
“Thanks, Larry. I’ll just put some pressure on this wound, and that should take care of it.”
“Wentworth. You want to tell us anything after we saved your life.”
“The doc here says it’s a flesh wound.”
“What would happen if you stopped the pressure, Andrew?”
“In my opinion, Mr. Wentworth here could bleed to death.”
“But, EMS is on the way.”
“So, he said Wentworth. So, he said. Tell the man why you don’t practice medicine, Andrew.”
“It seems I’m a pathological liar.”
“Yeah, Wentworth. He tells people what he thinks they want to hear.”
“You two are crazy, like I said.”
“Give us the information we want, and you’ll get help.”
“You can’t do this. It’s harassment.”
“Yup. That it is. Stop the pressure, Andrew.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Okay, I sent those guys to kill you.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you that. It’ll cost me my life.”
“So, the outcome will be the same if you don’t tell us. If you do, we can protect you.”
“You sure?”
“You have my word?”
“Go talk to Cortez, but don’t tell him I said anything.”
“Cortez told you to kill us?”
“I didn’t say that. Just go talk to him.”
“Just tell us who told you to have us killed.”
“You don’t know how things work here. Cortez has the answer, but it’s got to come from him. Are those sirens I hear?”
“I guess.”
“So, you did call 911.”
“Yeah darn it.”








































