Corpse Suzette

you thought I was just some poor, helpless old woman. Well, I served in
the Women’s Army Corps, buster! You just held up the wrong woman!”
    Dirk wasted no time rushing
the counter and securing the .45 before Annie Oakley, Sr. could do any further
damage with it.
    Savannah holstered her own
weapon and turned her attention to Roco, who was lying on the floor, bleeding
profusely from his leg wound.
    So far, he hadn’t said
anything. He wasn’t even moaning or groaning in pain. He looked like he was in
complete shock as he stared up at Savannah with blank eyes.
    “How bad is he?” Dirk asked
her.
    She looked down at the
wound and saw that blood wasn’t just flowing from it; it was spurting. Annie O.
had hit an artery. “Pretty bad.” Savannah turned to the clerk. “Do you have any
sanitary napkins in here?”
    “What?” The old lady looked
confused. “I... uh... there are some tampons on that shelf there. I—”
    “No, I need sanitary
napkins... pads... if you’ve got them. To stop the bleeding.”
    “I don’t carry anything
like that.”
    “Paper towels?”
    “I got regular old napkins
over there by the coffee machine,” the clerk said, “but I’m not getting them
for you if it’s to help him.”
    Dirk ran to the coffee
station, grabbed a handful of napkins, and thrust them into Savannah’s hands.
She used them to apply pressure to the wound but the blood quickly saturated them,
welling between her fingers. She silently cursed herself for not having a pair
of gloves. “Roco, my man, you better not have AIDS,” she muttered. “Call 911,”
she told the clerk. “Tell them t0 get an ambulance here, code three.”
    The lady shook her silver
head. “I’m not calling anybody. I hope he bleeds to death right there on that
floor. Then he won’t be holding up some other poor soul who hasn’t served time in the military.”
    Dirk made the emergency
call himself.
    He also brought an entire
box of the napkins over to Savannah, knelt next to her, and tried to help her
staunch the flow.
    She glanced down at Roco’s
ashen face, his dark eyes wide with pain and fear. She had to admit; she felt
just a little bit sorry for the guy... until she thought of his previous
victims... the
    D guy he had
pistol-whipped, who still couldn’t walk.
    Then she decided that maybe
Lady Justice wasn’t such a bad old broad after all.
    “Guess this was my
lucky day,” Dirk said as he tossed away a handful of soaked napkins and grabbed
some fresh ones. He looked down at Roco. “You, on the other hand...
you’re going to the hospital and then right back to prison.”
    Savannah could hear sirens
approaching. She could also hear the clerk talking on her cell phone. She was
saying to somebody, A “Yeah, I got him good. Right in the leg. He’s the third
one I’ve shot in only five years! Sure, let’s get together tonight at O’Henry’s
and celebrate.”
    A Savannah nudged Roco to
keep him conscious. “Stay awake for me, there, buddy. Help’s about here.” She shook
her head.
    “Boy, you’re just havin’ a
bad night, aren’t you? You get fired from a job, you pick the only convenience
store in three states with a gun-totin’ granny WAG behind the counter, you
violate S, your parole and get a hole blown in your leg... all in one hour. How
piss-poor unlucky are you?\”
     
    “I sure appreciate you
letting my cousin stay with you,” Tammy said as she brought Savannah a second
hot-from-the-oven cinnamon bun on a china dessert plate. “I just don’t have
room for her there in that tiny little apartment of mine, and you have a nice
extra bedroom upstairs. It’s just so much handier, and you’re so nice to do
this for us and...”
    She babbled on as she
placed the roll on the end table next to Savannah’s easy chair, then fluffed up
a pillow and shoved it under Savannah’s feet, which were resting on an ottoman.
Still in her bathrobe, pajamas, and fluffy slippers, Savannah looked the
picture of Saturday morning leisure. Except that it was Tuesday.
    Tammy tried to grab the mug
out of Savannah’s hand. “Here, let me refresh that cup of coffee for you and—”
    “Hey, hey... hold on.”
Savannah clutched the mug to her chest. “Not that I don’t enjoy having my hiney
kissed like this first thing in the morning, but the homemade rolls are enough.
You don’t have to wait on me hand and foot, too.”
    “I don’t mind. Really, I
don’t. Here, is that enough cream in your coffee? Enough frosting on