“I can protect myself.” She pushed the gun against Dell Streeter’s chest even harder. For the first time she raised her voice. “Talk. Tell us where the drugs are.” She meant business, and I knew it.
Streeter stared straight ahead like he was imagining he was someplace else. A place where someone wasn’t holding a gun to his body. He didn’t make a sound.
Sadie said, “Tell us where the drugs are or you’ll hear this gun go off again, and you won’t like it. I’ve already shot both legs. I’ll need a new target.”
Streeter cut his eyes to the gun but remained silent.
That’s when Sadie took a step back, looked down the barrel of the pistol, lowered it slightly, and pulled the trigger.
Again the sound erupted in the small room like a lion’s roar. I was a little more prepared for it, but it was still shocking. The muzzle flash blinded me for a second. As soon as my hearing came back I heard a wild wailing.
My eyes focused, and I realized that Sadie had shot Streeter in the hand. She had blown off a couple of his fingers, and blood was gushing out of the stumps.
Streeter’s eyes bulged at the sight of his mangled hand.
Now Sadie stuck the warm barrel of the gun to Streeter’s temple.
That did it. I don’t know if it was the sight of his destroyed hand or the feeling of the gun mashed against his skull. Dell Streeter started to talk.
“Okay, okay, okay. The stash is in my office. The room with the computers. At the top of the closet, there’s a hole in the ceiling that’s hidden. We keep everything there. I swear. Just lower the gun.”
Sadie said, “That’s all I needed to hear.” She looked at me. “That would be enough to send him to jail, right?”
I just nodded. I didn’t care what it took—I wanted her to step away from him while he was still alive.
Sadie said, “Good.” Then she took half a step away from Streeter and aimed the gun at his head.
Now I rushed forward and shouted, “No!”
Once again, the sound of the gunshot in the enclosed cellar was deafening. The smell of the gunpowder was sickening. And the idea that this young girl had been pushed to murder was devastating.
Then I looked across the room. Sadie was starting to cry as she dropped the pistol.
Dell Streeter just stared at me. Terrified.
Sadie had fired over his head intentionally. And now everything had caught up with her. She leaned against the shelves on the wall of the cellar and started to weep.
I crossed the room to hug her.
Chapter 87
The last thing I wanted was Sadie facing some kind of attempted murder charge. I left her sitting on the bottom step of the cellar stairs. I grabbed some rags off a workbench and did my best to stem the blood pouring out of Dell Streeter’s legs. He whined the whole time.
His hand was the ugliest injury. The fingers were gone. There was nothing I could do about that. He flinched and grunted as
I wrapped a towel around his bloody stumps.
I said, “Hold that in place with your other hand.”
All he had the strength to do was nod.
The wound on his shoulder was superficial, but I could see where it would’ve startled the shit out of him. I’m sure he never expected a teenage girl like Sadie to sneak up behind him and stab him with a butcher knife. It didn’t matter what the knife did to him: the shock was what allowed Sadie to get control of him.
As I was tying a rag around the wound on his right leg, Streeter seemed to focus and looked at me.
He said, “Is it going to be hard to arrest her for attempted murder?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”