Casey slid along the right wall until he got close enough to see whether Boots was still alive, then reached down and took the gun from the dead man’s hand.
Gage didn’t give Anston a second look. He’d seen where the slug struck his forehead. He ran to where Viz lay shielding Socorro. Blood soaked through the upper right back of his shirt.
Viz rolled over and stared up at Gage. “Is she okay?”
Gage dropped to his knees between them. Socorro was lying on her right side, still bound to the chair, her face bruised and bloody. She nodded.
“She’ll be okay. Hang in there.”
Gage saw blood pooling by Viz’s shoulder. He ripped open Viz’s shirt, then reached around and pressed his palm against the open wound.
“Man, I never thought I’d die like this,” Viz said, looking up at Gage. “It’s too soon… I’ve got… I’ve got things…”
Gage locked his eyes on Viz’s.
“You’re gonna make it. You need to trust me. If you weren’t, I’d say so. I wouldn’t take that away from you.”
T his is Graham.”
“Let me turn it down,” Spike Pacheco said.
Gage heard television voices fade in the background.
“I guess you just saw Landon on TV, too,” Spike said.
Gage’s world mushroomed outward from the carnage lying before him.
“Graham,” Spike finally said, “you still there?”
“Yeah. I’m at Gilbert and Brannan. I just called 911 for an ambulance. You better get over here before your whole department shows up.”
S pike shook his head as he surveyed the bodies of Anston and Boots. It wasn’t the worst crime scene he’d been called to, but it was the only one that ever had a federal judge curled up in a corner, rocking back and forth like an infant.
“I’m not sure I can contain this,” Spike said. “The media listens to our 911 dispatcher.”
“Just try to keep things muffled,” Gage said, “at least until seven o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“Then what?”
“Speculate your ass off.”
“What about Viz and the bruises on Socorro? How are you going to explain all that at SF Medical?”
“Casey knows what he needs to do. He’ll think of something by the time the ambulance gets them there.”