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“That’s all bullshit.”

“Oh really? Were you in The Spot?”

“That’s got nothing to do…”

“Answer the question, asshole. Were you in The Spot?”

“Yeah, I might have popped in for a moment.”

“Big surprise.”

“Had you been drinking?”

“Come on Timmy, suddenly it’s against the law to have a beer?

“I’ll put that down as a yes.”

“Did you attempt to grab the mail out of her truck?”

“It was my God damned letter, I wrote the thing, I put the stamp on the damned envelope, I was just…”

“Jesus, you dumb ass. To tell you the truth Dev, you got off easy, she didn’t press charges. What the Post Office does is going to be another matter.”

“Post Office?”

“Hey jackass, her superiors are going to look at this thing. I’m mean we had to get involved, and the paramedics, too. You’ll be looking at a bill from the city for the paramedic run, by the way. I think it comes in right around eight-seventy-five.”

“I gotta pay almost ten bucks to the city after I was assaulted?”

“No, idiot, eight hundred and seventy-five bucks.”

“For what?”

“For being an absolute jerk and wasting the city’s time and money. The term budget cuts mean anything to you? Christ, we’re broke just like every other city in the country and you want the tax payers to pick up the cost so you can run around town playing grab ass with women picking up the mail. I don’t think you’re going to find a lot of folks arguing your side of the case in this deal.”

Timmy flicked on the siren.

“What the hell is that for? You chasing some guy?” My eyes remained closed, my head continued to bounce.

“No just alerting your neighbors that you’re in the area and about to arrive home, compliments of the city. Hey by the way, you’ll be getting a bill for the ride. Not much I can do about it, sorry, sort of.”

My eyes were still closed but I could hear he was enjoying every minute of my misfortune.

We slowed to a stop, sat there a good few seconds with the siren blaring.

“You about done?” I asked.

“Almost, let me help you out.”

I heard him get out of the squad car a moment later he opened my door.

“Watch your head, Dev. I’ll help you to you inside maybe keep your eyes closed in this sunlight.”

“Can you at least take these damn handcuffs off? Not like I’m a criminal or something.”

“Tell that to the Post Office,” he laughed.

“Come on, Timmy.”

“Na, Shelia will enjoy this part. Plus, let’s go, it’s time for your perp walk.” Then he led me by the elbow across my boulevard and up the front steps.

“Grass could do with a cutting,” he snickered.

“Shut up.”

“Mommy, what’s wrong with that man?” It was a little kid’s voice, from somewhere behind us.

“He was bad, honey. He’s always bad,” a woman said in a slightly louder tone. We went up the three steps to my porch, walked across to the front door.

“Here, give me my cuffs back,” Timmy said, taking my wrists.

“You’re sure, I’m dangerous you know.”

“I can leave ‘em on, Dev. I got a couple of spare sets in the trunk.”

“Get ‘em off.”

“There we go, hey thanks, it’s been a pleasure. Oh, listen buddy, sorry bout this, but I had to cite you. I didn’t mention the assault, but you got a disorderly, here,” he said and slipped a citation into my hands.

“Disorderly? You mean you’re citing me for disorderly conduct?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’ve been dicking around with you for the past forty-five minutes. You had a team of paramedics attending to you. My sergeant swung by to check up. We had a back up squad initially. All that shit, at city expense, and what? I’m supposed to pat you on the back and tell you to have a nice day? I don’t think so. You’re lucky you’re not being booked right now.”

“Shit,” I shouted.

“Mommy he said a bad word,” the brat from the sidewalk called out.

“Dev, don’t you go postal, I’ve got spray, too,” Timmy laughed.

Chapter Sixteen

In between spells stretched out on the couch I stood in the shower with my face about four inches from the shower head. It pretty much did the trick. The next morning I actually used soap in the shower, although not on my face just to stay on the safe side.

I found a skin cream some long forgotten date must have left behind and smeared that on my face, it stung a little but seemed to help. My skin was still red and puffy around the eyes, but the swelling on my cheeks had gone down, more or less.

I got dressed and decided I could be bored at the office just as well as at home. My car wasn’t in the driveway. It dawned on me that St. Paul’s finest had given me a ride home. Instead, a silver Audi was parked on the street in front of my house Kiki leaned against the door, smiling, looking gorgeous and sipping from a Starbucks cup.

“Jesus, what the hell happened to you?”

“Hi, Kiki. Here to comfort the afflicted?”

“Hunh? What happened to your face, you look all blotchy and well, shitty?”

“Long story.”

“Tell me, here, I brought you a coffee. I wasn’t sure how you like it so I added cream and sugar.”

“I usually take it black.”

“Then you can go inside and make some, I guess.”

“Cream and sugar will be fine.”

“I brought you some croissants, too. So tell me what happened.”

I gave her a sanitized version. I didn’t mention the stupid letter to her brother and that fat ass Thompson Barkwell. I stuck to the white lie about forgetting to enclose my check in a bill payment. I skipped over the part about drinking a couple of beers beforehand in The Spot. I sort of neglected to mention the potential assault on a Federal employee charge or Timmy’s disorderly conduct citation. Then closed with, “So, one of my pals at the police department warned me that I was likely to see a bill from the city because the paramedics had to be called. I mean, can you believe it?”

“Wow, that seems so unfair,” she sounded genuine.

“Yeah, you’re telling me. I mean, it’s like suddenly I’m the criminal here.”

Kiki sipped her coffee. After a long moment I said, “Hey, could I hit you up for a lift down to my office. One of the cops was nice enough to give me a lift home yesterday, said it was the least he could do, you know, under the circumstances.”

“Yeah, sure, another croissant? Or anything else you want?”

I didn’t touch that last line. “No, thanks, but I’ve got some meetings and I like to be prepared, really appreciate the coffee and the ride.”

“You and your meetings, we’ll have to cure you of that. Come on, hop in.”

I gave her directions to my office. Mercifully, she didn’t mention a thing about KRAZ until we had pulled up in front of the pet shop on the first floor of my building.

“Hey, about that KRAZ,” she said.

“Not to worry, Barkwell gave me a check, said he’d get the rest to me in a couple of days, after the board meeting or something.”

“Yeah, whatever. No I meant, you know, the KRAZ you sort of left on my bedroom wall. Remember, the red spray paint?”

“Oh yeah, that.”

“You had some guy or something, no rush, but you know I’d like to get it taken care of, doesn’t really go with the rest of the decor in there.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a call into him, I’ll check as soon as I’m in the office, see if he got back to me.”

“Do that, thanks, you’ll let me know?”

“I will.”

She drove off before I had a chance to swallow my mouthful of croissant and thank her.

I thought about painting the wall myself, I mean, how hard could it be? Then remembered the difficulties I’d encountered at an ex-wife’s, splattering paint on some heirloom antique I’d never liked in the first place. I knew the guy to call.

Gary Hobson was one of those guys who never held a job and knew how to do everything. There was a lot of family money from somewhere, though I’d never learned where. He could fix the brakes on your car, put a new roof on your garage, wire a light, paint a room, do a thousand different things. I don’t think I’d seen him for the better part of six months. I looked up his number in my rolodex and called.