"shit," she said. "just be real quiet and maybe they'll go away." i became real quiet. it rang again, and then someone started to knock.

"stacey! open up."

"oh god carlee, it's the chief, commissioner jorden. yikes, go to the door and tell him i'm in the tub."

"naked?" i asked.

"oh, then go get in bed with sidney."

"naked!"

"do something baby, it's the chief!" i jumped out, put on my jeans, and lissell's shirt, buttoning it as i padded to the front door. barefoot and dripping, i opened the door.

"hi there, guess what, lissell's in the tub." i told him, almost blushing.

"miss mccord, i'd recognize you anywhere, you don't look far from the tub yourself." he smiled, extended his hand. "ed jorden," he said, as he shook my wet hand.

"please, come in sir." god, i didn't know commissioner jorden even had a first name. i led him to the couch. "can i make you a drink commissioner? she shouldn't be long."

"i rarely drink on the job, but tonight, i'll make an exception, you smell like scotch, carlee, and that will be fine." and you wear aviance perfume, a breath of it in your hair, but not tonight. i thought. jesus. i shivered. hurry up lissell. i made him a drink, and he drank it, all of it. refill, i thought, but didn't say it. "ah, i can breathe once more, my wife doesn't allow me to drink very much, even at home, that was very refreshing, my dear, thank you." puts hair on your chest too ed. i thought.

"commissioner, sorry, but i was engaged when you knocked," lissell said, standing there like a professional breath of spring.

"it's alright, i was enjoying an old friend, detective stacey." lissell rolled her eyes. "if you'll make me another drink carlee, i'll tell her why i'm here." i took the hint, excused myself and mixed ed another good one, even better. god, if he drinks like that, no wonder his wife doesn't want him to.

when i returned, lissell looked upset. i handed the commissioner his drink, he patted her on the head, then wolfed it down. he handed lissell a bunch of papers and shook my hand. "so nice to see you again carlee, take care, you're very special." then he left. lissell's face was flushed.

"what is it babe?" i asked.

"I liaise with the fbi these days sweetie, quantico sent an arrest warrant to the department, i'm to serve it."

"on who?"

"sysco bolin," she answered.

what a bummer, sysco had walked the streets of louisville every day for years, and now, while she was having surgery the damn feebies wanted to arrest her.

"go with me baby, i can get margaret to sit with sidney."

"oh, lissell, sidney would be petrified if he woke up and i wasn't here."

"please carlee, i have a cell phone, please come with me." she didn't sound desperate, but desperate enough. margaret lived two doors down, she was an older lady, and seemed very nice. lissell wrote down her phone number. "and thank you margaret, i owe you one."

on the way to the hospital i asked: "what's sysco charged with?"

"god carlee, everything except stealing fucking chickens, the best one is conspiracy to commit conspiracy, attempted murder, drugs, even a charge of treason, and the list goes on and on."

"i don't think i'd have the balls to serve that," i said.

"neither do i sweetheart, she'll probably laugh in my face."

sysco had had brain surgery. a massive cerebral bleed had occured when pork pie hurled the horse shoe at her. a nurse led us in to her room in icu, she looked like shit. "damn motherfuckin' son-of-a-bitch, i'll kill his ass," she muttered as we stood over her bed.

"gosh, she looks terrible," lissell said. "those scars on her face."

"i know baby, but at least she's alive, she's really tough."

"well now, is my patient awake?" a doctor in green o.r. scrubs asked. his name tag said smith, neurosurgery.

"awake and cursing smith," i answered.

"i drained almost a liter of fluid from her brain less than an hour ago, it's amazing that she's alive. that scar on her face that punctured her left eye went all the way to her brain, wonder how she survived that. you know her?" he asked.

"not well, my friend here is serving her with some papers."

"what kind of papers?" dr. smith asked.

"arrest warrant dr. smith, federal," lissell answered.

"do you think that's advisable miss, under the circumstances?"

"summa-a-bitch," sysco muttered.

"sorry sir, the federal government only ordered me to deliver them to her, her medical status wasn't mentioned." lissell handed the papers to me.

"sysco," i said, and shook her shoulder. "are you awake?"

"mutherfucker," she answered. she shook, violently, then stopped breathing.

"god, call a code nurse!" smith hollered. sysco was blue, as blue as indigo. we just stood there and watched.

"she's in v-tach!" i shouted. "won't last much longer!"

"where's the goddamn crash team!!" smith hollered to the nurse.

"detained doctor, they're tied up in the e.r."

"shit," smith said. there was an ambu bag on the crash cart, i opened it and put a mask on it, plugged the oxygen hose into the regulator, and went to work on sysco. she pinked up shortly, and her 02 sat went from 60% to 93%. "good, girl, very good," smith said.

"she's still in v-tach," i said, "we'll need to cardiovert her." the nurse applied the defib paddles and hit sysco with 250 joules. she cursed, but went into a sinus rhythm.

"can you put in a endotrachael tube miss?" smith asked. the nurse looked at me, she was terrified.

"can't you?" i asked.

"i'm a surgeon, not an e.r. doc," he replied.

"i can try," i said. i asked the nurse for a 7 1/2 inch tube and a curved blade lyringoscope. sysco was so skinny, she wasn't that anterior, her vocal cords were highly visible. i placed the lubricated tube between her cords, and pushed the tube in to the 21 centimeter marker. smith listened with his stethoscope while i squeezed a current of air down the tube.

"good, great, bilateral and equal, do you do ventilators as well miss?" i rolled my eyes as the nurse taped the tube securely.

"if i had one," i answered. lissell had fallen into a chair.

"i can't believe this," she exclaimed.

"rachel," the doctor said, and within fifteen minutes a nurse's aid wheeled in a ventilator.

"i'm sorry doctor, everyone's tied up tonight." the ventilator outweighed her by forty pounds.

"thanks for your help miss, thanks a lot," he gently said. the nurse, rachel, squeezed the ambu bag for me while i worked with the vent.

"give her 700 ccs of tidal volume, 40% oxygen, peak flow of 40, simv of 12. get x ray to get a film for tube placement and get me a blood gas in twenty minutes," he said to the nurse.

"they might still be busy doctor," she answered. as i hooked the ventilator to sysco's et tube, smith asked:

"do you do abg's?"

"no! just monitor her sat until the place calms down," i said.

"i can't believe you did that carlee," lissell said as we got in the elevator."

"oh," i said and grabbed her hand. "i've done stuff like that before."

"but, you saved her life."

"what the hell for, the federal penn, she'll probably curse me."

"oh carlee, sometimes you're truly amazing." i smiled.

"when i kill and when i save?"

pork pie was sitting on lissell's front porch steps. "is she dead?" he asked.

"nope, alive and cussing you," i said. pork blew a smoke ring and chewed on his cigar.

"good," he said.

"she's critical though, carleessaved..." i stopped her.

"she's on a ventilator, they drew a bunch of shit off her brain, she might make it."

"really don't matter," pork said. "i'm off the hook."

"how did you find my place mr. anderson?" lissell asked.

"fuckin' cops brought me here, i told them i was looking for carlee."

"pork pie, you're not off the hook, that's probably why the brought you here."

"shit honey, if i hadn't tossed that pony shoe at her, she would have left me bleeding in the streets."

"pork, you didn't just toss a pony shoe at her, you threw a piece of heavy metal at her, and that ain't no rock song. if she dies tonight, you're up for manslaughter to say the least," i explained.

"bull shit!" he shouted.

"i'm afraid she's right mr. anderson." lissell said. "you're a big man and she's a little woman."

"she's a fuckin' hit man, stacey, as tough as they come!"

"couldn't tell that in a court of law."

"where in the fuck do you think she got all those scars, teachin' kindergarten?" he snapped.

"look mr. anderson, carlee saved her life tonight, if it wasn't for her you'd be in jail as we're speaking."

"why'd you do that carlee?" pork asked.

"i had to pork, there wasn't anyone around but me."

"in a goddamned hospital!!" pork shouted, as his face turned red.

"i'm sorry pork, i did what i had to do."

"the circumstances were peculiar, that's all."

"look, i'm sorry, but i don't need to be charged with practicing medicine without a license, so you all just drop it."

"you're protected by the good samaritan laws, carlee," lissell said.

"no sweetie, i'm not, in the field maybe, but in ccu, in a hospital, there is nothing to protect me."

"why in the fuck did you bother anyway carlee?" pork asked.

"because she's your friend pork, and a human being, hell, i don't know i just did." i almost cried. "you're in big trouble pork pie, you tried to kill her," i muttered.

"shit girl, she was going to kill me!" he shouted.

"then why in the hell did you have to throw a fucking horse shoe at her, across the room?"

"she was close by babe."

"bullshit," i said.

"a few feet," he said.

"a few yards pork pie, the damn thing left an impression on her brain, crushed her skull."

"you ain't listening to this shit, are you stacey?"

"the estimation, mr. anderson, is five yards according to the impact, you will be charged with murder in the first if sysco doesn't make it. if she does make it, she'll probably come after you, or send her thugs."

"shit girls, can't y'all come up with a better line of conversation?" pork said. sidney came to the door, rubbing his eyes.

"hey baby, did we wake you up?" i said.

"i couldn't sleep carlee, i dreamed of daddy, is he in trouble?" i hugged him tightly.

"we don't know yet sidney, we certainly hope not." i almost cried.

"hey sport." pork pie said. "now don't you worry yourself, we'll bring your daddy back." i guessed that pork pie wasn't all bad, on the verge of going to prison and he still had kind and hopeful words for the little one. sidney ran and hugged pork.

"would you read me a nice story uncle pork pie?"

"sure sport, you just git in bed, i'll be there in a minute." sidney smiled, then ran to his bed room.

"that was real nice pork pie," i said.

"now where am I gonna find a nice book?" he replied.