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Danny bled like a stuck pig and hollered at the top of his lungs. I rolled him over onto his belly and shoved my knee into his back with all the force I could muster. Cuffed him not too gently and shoved his thieving face into the dirt for good measure.

“You shot at my sister, you fucking son of a bitch. You’ll pay for that.”

I jerked him up out of the weeds and tossed him over my shoulder. He wailed from the pain of his two fresh bullet wounds, and I didn’t feel a bit sorry for him. Heading for the parking area, I found out it was a helluva long way to get to the Bronco.

“I’ll run ahead and get the squad,” said Tammy. She could see I was getting tired. The kid wasn’t a heavy-weight, but probably went about one-fifty. My bad shoulder hurt like a mother.

“Yeah, thanks.”

I kept going but I was a bit out of breath and ready to throw Burridge to the ground when Tammy bounced the squad across the field to meet me.

She stopped and opened the back door, and I tossed Burridge into the back seat. She locked him in while I leaned up against the Bronco to catch my breath.

My shot arm ached like hell on wheels from using it too much. I slumped into the passenger seat and smoked my way through the fucking pain while Tammy drove us to the hospital.

“You used your arm too much hauling that piece of scum,” said Tammy. “Where’s your meds?”

“Home on my dresser.”

“Fuck. There’s Advil in my backpack. Take a couple, right now.”

“Thanks.”

A few miles out of Shelby, I felt better and was able to call Billy and tell him me and Tammy had Danny Burridge and we had to take him to the hospital. We wouldn’t be back for a couple more hours.

“Hospital? That mean you had to shoot him?”

“Tammy did. He was firing at her, Billy.”

“Copy that. Nice work.”

Cut Bank Hospital.

A nurse at the Emergency door took one look at the blood all over Danny Burridge and she rounded up an orderly and a gurney and took him from us right away.

Blood oozed out of the back of his right leg just above the knee and his right arm halfway between the wrist and elbow.

We sat in the closest waiting area until the doctor on duty in Emergency came to find us. “I’m Doctor Keene. Are you the people who brought the boy in with two bullet wounds?”

I held up my badge and Tammy did the same. “Harrison County Sheriff’s Department, Doctor,” I said. “Danny Burridge is a wanted fugitive.”

“Even so, he’s a minor. I need a signature on a consent form to take the bullet out of his leg. Does the boy have parents here in the hospital?”

“No, we haven’t called them yet,” said Tammy.

“The patient is a juvenile and I can’t operate on him without a signature.”

“I’ll call his mother,” said Tammy. “Could she give you the okay on the phone if she was on her way here to sign in person?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes. I’d like to get started as soon as possible. The boy is losing a lot of blood. We’re trying to stop up the bleeding, but we can’t wait too long.”

Tammy called the number she had for Sheila Burridge and broke the news to her.

“Mrs. Burridge, this is Deputy Tammy Bristol. I came to your house a couple of days ago about Danny. Do you remember?”

“Yes. I remember. I haven’t seen Danny or any of his friends.”

“We found Danny, ma’am. I have him here with me and we’re at the Cut Bank Hospital.”