“How do you know that?”
“Because the big guy’s down the hall getting worked on right now.”
“She picked the fight?”
“I assume that’s what the handcuff is for, although she’s in no shape to make a run for it. The other guy was pretty banged up too. She must be quite a pistol.”
“You have no idea,” Sean muttered under his breath.
After the doctor left, Sean drew nearer to the bed.
“Michelle? Michelle, can you hear me?”
All he got was a low moan. He backed out of the room, eyeing the handcuff with every step.
It didn’t take Sean long to run down the full story. He had a buddy on the D.C. police force who checked the arrest report and filled him in.
“It looks like the guy’s filing charges,” the detective told Sean over the phone.
“And they’re sure she wasn’t provoked?”
“About fifty witnesses swore she attacked the other guy. And what the hell was she doing in that part of D.C. in the first place, Sean? Did she have a death wish?”
Did you have a death wish, Michelle?
He ran into big Rodney in the hospital corridor. His girlfriend was with him, still sponging stains off her dress.
“She’s been going through a really tough time,” Sean explained.
“You think we give a shit!” the woman yelled.
“I’m gonna sue her ass off!” Rodney bellowed.
“Damn right,” his girlfriend said. “That bitch! Look at my clothes.”
“She doesn’t have any assets,” Sean pointed out. “You can take her truck, but it’s got a hundred thousand miles on it.”
The girlfriend said, “Ever heard of garnishment? We take her whole paycheck for the next twenty years. See how she likes that.”
“No, you get a portion of her salary, but she doesn’t have a job either. In fact, after she gets out of here they’ll probably just take her back to the institute.”
“Institute? What institute?” the girlfriend asked as she stopped rubbing her dress.
“St. Elizabeth’s. You know, for people with mental problems.”
“I don’t believe this shit,” Rodney exclaimed. “That bitch attacked me!”
“You saying she’s nuts?” the woman asked anxiously.
Sean eyed Rodney. “Come on, you think any sane person would take a run at him? Especially a woman?”
“Damn, maybe the man’s right. I mean she’s got to be crazy to do that, right, baby?”
“Well, I want money from somebody,” the woman said, hands on hips. She eyed Sean pointedly. “A friend will do just fine. Or Little Miss Karate Bitch and her bony white ass can do some jail time.”
“Okay, I can probably raise some cash.”
“How much cash?” the woman snapped.