Die Smiling by Linda Ladd Page B

ducked under the yellow tape and climbed the front steps.
    Buck and I watched her for a moment, then he looked down at the bloodstained sleeve of my torn T-shirt. He shook his head. “You sure that’s not too bad?”
    â€œYeah. I got lucky and ducked the right way.”
    â€œLucky, huh? Lemme see.”
    I stood still, trying not to grimace as he carefully stripped off the already blood-soaked Band-Aids and probed at the wound with a gloved forefinger.
    â€œThis’s more’n any nick. Hurts pretty bad, I reckon. You probably oughta get some stitches.”
    I shrugged. “Sure, it hurts. So what? We almost had him, Buck. If he hadn’t had a boat stowed down at the cove, we would’ve nailed him cold in the act.”
    â€œHold still and let me clean this properly so it won’t get infected. Hell, Claire, this is getting to be a real bad habit with you.”
    Yeah, as if I invited people to take potshots at me. Impatient to get started inside the house, I didn’t want to wait for him to retrieve his medical bag and fix my arm, but I did. He was right, and I knew it. I wasn’t Batman, not even Robin. I’d figured that out a long time and a couple of major surgeries ago. Too bad I wasn’t. If I wore a cape and could fly, I bet I would’ve gotten the perp before he reached that boat. I watched Buckeye squeeze a long ooze of antibiotic goop into the wound and close the gash with four butterfly bandages. Then he handed me a bottle of water and a couple of Extra-Strength Tylenols. “These oughta do the trick. Trust me, you’re gonna need them before the day’s done. You find the shell casings from the gun that got you?”
    â€œThe guys are down there now. I don’t think he had time to pick up after himself, and we got a pretty good lock on his position.”
    I took the capsules, swallowed both at once, then chugged down about half the bottle of water. Buck picked up his case and headed for the porch as soon as Vicky finished up inside and came back out the front door. Buckeye assigned a new young guy with red hair named Kenny Porter to head down with Vicky to process the hillside. Buck yelled for one of the techs working the Fusion to assist him inside.
    Rubbing my aching arm, I watched them trot off to their assigned tasks. They were extremely good at their jobs, all of them. Buck didn’t hire a tech who wasn’t top of his class. If the killer had left trace evidence behind, they’d find it and not corrupt the scene while they did it. But I still wished Shaggy was on duty. He had my vote as the best of the best.
    I leaned back against my SUV’s front fender and waited for Bud. I wanted the people inside to get a good start before we nosed around. I hoped the time alone stringing the tape had helped Bud pull himself together. He was pretty blown away, but he’d have to get with it and quickly, too, or he’d be reassigned. The sheriff might do that anyway, once he found out Bud’s close relationship with the vic’s sister. Ten minutes later Bud walked around the back of the house and strode toward me. His face was set in hard, angry lines. He was all right now. My face looked like that, too.
    I asked anyway. “You okay, Bud?”
    â€œYeah. I’m tryin’ to figure out how to tell Bri. She called a few minutes ago, but I didn’t pick up.” He stared out into the distance where the lake water was now a polished silver mirror. “This sucks, Claire. Makes me sick.”
    â€œYeah.” His description was right on. I said, “Need another minute or are you ready to get started?”
    â€œI’m ready.”
    I handed him the protective gear I had retrieved earlier, and we carried it to the porch, then donned the gloves and booties in order not to contaminate the crime scene. I put mine on in a hurry, eager to get to work, so I had to wait while he snapped on his latex gloves and slipped