nurse eversole appeared with a unit of blood in her hand, and as she hung it, i asked: "how many does that make?"

"this is her fourth unit miss." gosh, lissell did lose a lot of blood. i kissed her on the cheek, and took the piece of paper from the clip board.

"i'll be back early in the morning lissell, you get a good night's rest, and get better." she attempted to smile. i really felt better about things as i walked out the door. brianna and margo looked as if they were arguing as i past the waiting room. brianna was so cute, i would just like to set her on my mantle piece for a couple of days, to stare at her if i wanted. margo could stay at home though.

i got in my car and drove to the river, it was quite dark and very foggy downtown. i drove slowly and stopped at the park. the ohio is a beautiful river, though i'm partial to the green, which in spring has colorful sternwheeler races and lots of other festivities. the belle of louisville and the delta queen are two boats often seen here, john hartford sang about them. the park was empty tonight, it was late. the river was very inticing, the banks of the ohio are flat and sandy, unlike the green- which are deep and muddy. in downtown louisville, the river is close to a mile in width, a lovely and intricate bridge joins kentucky and indiana, not too far from where i was standing, i could hear the traffic. i suddenly had a strong urge to take my shoes and socks off and walk on the large sandbar below. i knew that i shouldn't, at this hour, but i wanted to anyway.

while i walked barefoot in the sand, i thought. i knew that leroy had to be brought down, and this was as close as we were ever going to be, i just couldn't leave louisville now, no matter how badly dad and mikey wanted me to. plus, i had made friends here, friends that i would hate to lose, and lissell probably wasn't out of the woods yet, four units of blood is a lot. oftentimes the brain suffers when haemoglobin gets critically low; she seemed alright tonight, but who knows what tomorrow will bring.

"hey you! is this your stuff?" god! i saw a figure above holding up my shoes and socks.

"yeah, and put them down!" i shouted.

"i'm captain zimmerman carlee, please come up, we need to talk."

detective harry zimmerman was tall dark and professional. i grabbed my shoes and socks from his hand and sat down in the grass to put them back on. "do you often do foolish things like this carlee?" he asked.

"like what?"

"like walking around on a river bank all by yourself at one in the morning."

"sure, sometimes."

"it ain't safe miss, you have to know that."

"well maybe you'd better tell me where the fuck safe is then." i said, indignantly.

"lincoln nebraska, probably."

"i thought cops like you made cities safe for us harry?" he smiled.

"if there were three thousand more like me maybe." he wasn't so bad.

"is the pool room open over there?" i pointed.

"why, are you going to challange me to a round?"

"maybe, i'm ready for beer and shots and nine ball maybe." zimmerman laughed.

"if i give you that, will you talk with me, seriously?"

"sure."

captain zimmerman had parked next to my car in a blue, unmarked ford victoria. i got in and the aroma of new overwhelmed me. "nice." i said.

"your car smells like stale cigarettes and oil." he said.

"well gee, thanks. you break into my car?"

"just for a moment, wanted to see how many miles were on it."

"hope they were satisfactory to you harry."

"unbelievable." he replied. when he started the car up, i could barely tell it was running. "do you know colonel harlan sanders?" he asked.

"no." i answered.

"he was a little old man from corbin, kentucky, when he was sixty-five and retired, he opened this little restaurant in his hometown and specialized in chicken, fried very differently. he had invented a device that actually was an oil pressure cooker. a combination of herbs and spices, and bam, he became a billionaire."

"i'm sure it wasn't that easy." i interjected. harry smiled.

"probably not, but it worked well for him anyway." kfc, i could live on it, and die from it, grease under pressure, god, i wish he hadn't told me that.

detective zimmerman drove to the rather elite side of louisville, on the east side. the homes were mansions, none under ten thousand square feet. he pulled up into the driveway of one of the largest, it was white stone, all lit up. two huge concrete lions guarded the entrance.

"when i get rich and famous, i'm going to have lions just like these." i said. harry smiled. he punched a code into a hand held device, and the large steel gates opened.

"home again, home again." i chided.

as we drove up the long driveway to the magnificent house, he asked- "how are you going to get rich and famous carlee?" i raised an eyebrow and smiled. i liked this detective zimmerman. he stopped the car and we walked up to the front door.

"i'll bet that door cost a thousand dollars." i said.

"it's ebony with silver trim carlee, try five thousand." gulp; the inside entrance was fantastic, i had never seen such a place in my entire life.

"gosh, how many rooms does this place have harry?"

"fifty something, a dozen bedrooms, three well stocked kitchens, all the normal stuff." he laughed.

"and where do we get our drinks?"

"follow me." he said. we walked about a mile on the first floor and detective zimmerman opened the door to the billiard room for me. the room was luxurious, there were more pool tables than there were at bernie's pool room. a huge red velvet sectional lay in one corner, it sat like a dream. harry walked across the room and returned with two large brandy sniffers, two churchill downs shot glasses, a bottle of bourbon, and two cans of beer. he set them on a coffee table in front of the couch, filled the shot glasses with bourbon, placed them inside the sniffers, covered them with beer.

"beer and shots. just like you ordered." you don't sip drinks like this, you inhale them. they are not designed to taste good, the effects are what counts. we tipped glasses, then downed our drinks, the fucking shot glass hit my front teeth.

"damn!"

"are you alright?"

"oh, yeah, just drank too fast." i said.

"you're a funny girl carlee. i'm glad you came with me, the river's a dangerous place."

"oh, i was ok harry, you worry too much."

"not enough really, in my line of work."

"can i take my shoes and socks off?"

"are your feet sandy?"

"you bet." i answered.

"wait just a minute then." he headed off across the room. i ventured over to a pool table, the drink had made me warm, and my gait was off. i pulled the protective cover off a rather large pool table. no pockets! harry returned with a wash cloth and towel.

"over here pretty one. well, what did you expect from a billiard room?" he sat me down and loosened my shoe strings, took my shoes and socks off and rubbed my feet gently with a dampened cloth, so gently, as if they were birds. "colonel sanders was an uncle to my ex-wife, in case you're wondering." i was silent. "she didn't inherit much of his personal fortune, but she and twenty other nieces and nephews got keys to this house. she didn't ask for it back when we divorced."

"are you through ravishing my feet harry?"

"not quite," he answered. "they're still wet, and haven't been kissed." he dried them with the towel, then kissed them softly, i liked that. he rubbed the top of them and i wanted to purr. "you need another drink?" he asked as he kissed my cheek.

"yeah, i believe i do." he returned with two beers. "no shots?" i asked.

"for myself carlee, i don't need one."

"i suppose i don't either." he snapped the pop top, and handed one to me.

"we have to talk carlee, you do know that."

"i know harry, and i'm ready."

"you look like teri hatcher, you know that?"

"no, i don't know that, and neither does anyone else."

"i think you do."

"is leroy going to get off free harry?"

"i hope not angel, but a lot depends on you. first of all, i hope you got that very important evidence back where you found it."

"i did."

"and you weren't seen, by anyone?"

"no i'm sure i wasn't."

"here's what we have carlee. leo killed your friend in bowling green, then the cop who hit you. two years later he went to trenton, new jersey, and killed starlyn, whom you also knew. the deaths portrayed in his journal and still under heavy investigation, and of course mr. gray, another link to you."

"gosh, i'm pretty involved, aren't i?"

"yes, you are carlee. you will be the key witness when the details are worked out and he goes to trial."

"i'm not sure i want that harry."

"you have no choice carlee." he said.

"i know." i sadly said.

"the evidence should be in the department's hands by now. leroy is being held on one hundred thousand bond, but he's hired a very expensive lawyer from lexington. if something doesn't happen within a week, well, i can make no promises."

"won't the department get in touch with the bowling police?" i asked.

"yes, tomorrow, but i'm afraid everything's fairly circumstancial at this time. your appearance on the witness stand will be the most impressive thing in the case. he's told you things, according to lissell, those statements will count, under oath. if we can get a grand jury indictment, we will have time to put the pieces together."

"sounds complicated."

"it is complicated carlee, we all have to be attorneys as well as policemen these days. now, finish your beer and either bed down here with me, or i'll drive you to your car."

"as much as i'd like to stay here harry, i really need to get home.

my old car was still parked where i'd left it, damn, a town full of murderers and thieves and nobody attempts to steal my car.

"will you kiss me carlee?" harry asked.

"of course i will officer." he kissed very nice.

"drive safely angel."

"i will." i answered.

as i walked up my stairs, i thought i heard noises in my apartment. as i got closer, it was the television. what in the hell was my tv doing on after two in the morning? i opened the door, and there set andy in front of the tube.

"where the hell have you been?" he asked.

"how the hell did you get in?"

"it was open."

"bullshit! i never leave my door open."

"i swear honey, it was standing wide open at eleven pm."

"i need a drink." i said. i went to the kitchen area and made a jim dandy; sat down in the mayflower chair, and kicked my shoes off. "god andy, what a day."

"bad one carlee?"

"yeah. and how." i answered.

"carlee, ah, our horse, andy's babe. he had a bad day too."

"he didn't win!" i shouted.

"now take it easy, it's not all bad. he was 12 lengths ahead in the stretch, made record time, then his jockey pulled back on the reins and he finished second."

"wow, that makes my day andy, i bet every nickel i could spare on that race, my bank account's in deep shit."

"you remember mr. laverne anderson, "pork pie"?"

"sure."

"he was at the bookie joint, we watched the race together. he said that a lot of money had been bet on andy's babe, a lot, and if he won, a bunch of money would have changed hands, and he would be in a lot of trouble. he refunded my bet, and told me to tell you not to worry about yours, said 'shit happens' and for you not to worry."

"shit does happen." i said as i finished my drink. "boy, does shit happen." i was utterly exhausted.

i woke up and andy had me completely undressed, he was at my chest-of-drawers returning with pajamas. "what time is it?" i sleepily asked.

"after three am darling, you fell asleep." i felt wet between my legs. andy struggled to put my top on and button it.

"was i any good?" i smiled.

"carlee, i would never take advantage of you like that." he sounded insulted. i reached down and put two fingers inside of me. very slippery.

"you want to andy?"

"if you do baby."

"yeah, i think i would like to feel you inside of me. the end to a less than perfect day." either i fell back asleep, or andy undressed as fast as superman. he had a condom on. "i take the pill andy." i smiled.

"you're bleeding carlee."

"so, you need a raincoat for that?" he pushed it in, i was sprawled in the mayflower chair in a truly obscene position, but it worked for me. pre-ragtime orgasms were always very special for me, and very easy. poor andy was a fair only lover, very vocal, which i didn't mind, and very quick on the trigger. i could feel him swelling and hear him panting, the neighbors could hear him, if i had any. he came and the dam broke.

"get a towel and a box of tampax!" i cried. andy pulled out leaving the condom inside of me. he returned softly and wetly with my request.

"sorry baby." he said, as i sopped up a more than ample supply of O neg and easily inserted a lovely tampon. i was sure i wasn't the only girl to start her period in the ancient chair. i almost laughed.

"hey, here's your raincoat andy."

"thanks, i may reuse it."