Page 107 of Protecting What's Mine
She was still trying to explain her predicament to the dog when she pulled in the driveway without noticing the rusty pickup parked on the street.
Sunshine gave a warningboofat the slam of a car door. Mack looked up as she unloaded the bags from the hatch.
He was tall, reed-thin in a way that suggested poor life choices. Early fifties if she had to guess. He walked like he had a purpose.
“You Doc O’Neil?” he said. His teeth were yellowed, fingers and t-shirt dirty. There was a nasty, swollen bump swelling on his right forearm. He smelled vaguely of motor oil.
“That’s right,” she said, dropping the bags at her feet to free her hands.
“My nephew goes to jail, it’s on you,” he said and spat on the grass next to the driveway.
“Your nephew is already in jail. And it’s on him.”
“He didn’t do nothing wrong.”
Sunshine gave anotherboof.
“He put his girlfriend in the ICU and broke my ankle,” she said.
She wasn’t worried about him in a physical fight. She was more than capable of taking on someone bigger and stronger. But if he had a weapon, well, she’d rather know it sooner than later.
“My kind don’t like it when people stick their noses in our business.”
“Are you armed, Mr. Kersh?”
He snorted and ignored the question. “The kid was high. He can’t be responsible for his actions while he’s on that shit.”
She sighed heavily. “We’re all responsible for our own actions, Mr. Kersh. Your nephew is an adult. He made choices. Bad ones. Maybe this will be a turning point for him.”
His laugh had no humor in it and ended in a hacking cough. She noticed that his left hand rubbed gently at the bump on his right.
“It weren’t no turning point for me,” he said. “It ain’t gonna do him any more good.”
“I’m not dropping the charges, Mr. Kersh. And if you care about your nephew at all, you’ll let the legal system do its job. Your nephew’s best shot at a better life is taking his lumps and doing the time. He can get clean in prison, take classes, learn a trade. If that girl lives, he’ll be out before you know it.”
“You can’t come after my family and not expect to hear from us,” he said with an almost mournful sigh. She wondered if his heart wasn’t in the warning.
“I’m not coming after you. I’m playing by the rules. How long have you had that boil?” she asked.
“Huh?”
She pointed at his arm, and he covered the lump with his other hand.
“It’s a boil, an abscess. Have you had it looked at?”
“No. Only had it a couple of weeks.”
His answer was short but carried a message. He didn’t appear to trust the medical community any more than he did law enforcement.
“Look, if you’re not here to rough me up and you don’t have any weapons on you, I can take a look at it inside.”
He looked confused. And non-threatening, she decided.
Sunshine seemed to agree. She’d given up her guard dog stance and was rolling on her back on the grass.
Mack held up her hands. “I’m a doctor. That looks painful. I can help.”
“I’m not armed,” he said, still holding his arm. “But I’m not paying no hospital bills.”
