to do."
I wasn't in the mood to accept an apology. "There are lots of things you can do," I said. "Get him psychiatric help. Lock him up. Take him to the vet and get him neutered."
"I'll pay for a doctor," Jimmy Alpha said. "Do you want to go to a doctor?"
"The only place I'm going is to the police station. I'm pressing charges, and nothing you can say is going to stop me."
"Think about it for a day," Jimmy pleaded. "At least wait until you're not so upset. He can't take another assault charge now."
I WRENCHED THE DRIVER'S DOOR OPEN and jammed myself behind the wheel. I eased away from the curb, being careful not to run over anyone. I drove at a moderate speed, and I didn't look back. I stopped for a light and assessed the damage in the rearview mirror. My upper lip was split on the inside and still bleeding. I had a purple bruise forming on my left cheek. My cheek and my lip were beginning to swell.
I was holding tight to the wheel, and I was using every strength I possessed to stay calm. I drove south on Stark to State Street and followed State to Hamilton. When I reached Hamilton I felt as if I was safe in my own neighborhood and could allow myself to stop and think. I pulled into a convenience store lot and sat there for a while. I needed to go to the police station to report the assault, but I didn't want to leave the security and comfort of home turf, and I wasn't sure how the police would regard this latest incident with Ramirez. He'd threatened me, and then I'd deliberately provoked him by parking across from the gym. Not smart.
I'd been on adrenaline overdose ever since Ramirez appeared at my side, and now that the adrenaline was slacking out, exhaustion and pain were creeping in. My arm and my jaw ached and my pulse rate felt like it had dropped to twelve.
Face up, I said to myself, you're not going to make it to the police station today. I shuffled through my shoulder bag until I found Dorsey's card. Might as well keep some continuity and whine to Dorsey. I dialed his number and left a message to call back. I didn't specify the problem. I didn't think I could go through it twice.
I hauled myself into the store and got myself a grape popsicle. "Hadda akthident," I said to the clerk. "My lip ith thwollen."
"Maybe you should see a doctor."
I ripped the paper off the popsicle and put the ice to my lip. "Ahhh." I sighed. "Thas bedda."
I returned to the car, put it into gear, and backed into a pickup truck. My whole life flashed in front of me. I was drowning. Please God, I prayed, don't let there be a dent.
We both got out and examined our cars. The pickup didn't have a scratch. No dent, no paint chipped, not even a smudge in the wax. The Cherokee looked like someone had taken a can opener to its right rear fender.
The guy driving the pickup stared at my lip. "Domestic quarrel?"
"A akthident."
"Guess this just isn't your day."
"No day ith my day," I said.
Since the accident had been my fault, and there'd been no damage to his car, we didn't do the ritual of trading insurance information. I took one last look at the damage, shuddered violently, and slunk away, debating the value of suicide as opposed to facing Morelli.
The phone was ringing as I came through my front door. It was Dorsey.
"I haf an assault charge againth Ramireth," I said. "He hit me in the mouff."
"Where'd this happen?"
"Thark Threet." I gave him the details and refused his offer to come to my apartment to get my statement. I didn't want to chance his running into Morelli. I promised I'd stop in tomorrow to complete the paperwork.
I took a shower and had ice cream for supper. Every ten minutes I'd look out the window to see if there was any sign of Morelli in the lot. I'd parked in a far corner where the lighting was poor. If I could just get through the night, tomorrow I'd take the Cherokee to Al at the body shop and see if he could do an instant repair. I had no idea how I'd pay for it.
I watched television until eleven and went to bed, lugging Rex's cage into the bedroom to keep me company. There'd