"No," I said, "give me a little time to calm down.
Next door, Rex was in his cage. I couldn't bear to look at him, knowing that this might be the last time I'd see him. It's interesting how you can be attached to these little beasts. My throat choked at the thought of Rex being an orphan, and I heard again the little voice inside me tell me: Do something——! But do something——!
I made a brief prayer, gritted my teeth, rushed forward, pounced on Alpha, caught him off guard, and slammed my head into his stomach.
Alpha let out a gasp and a thud came from the top of my head, shattering the window. If I had any idea, I would kick in the crotch, but I didn't hesitate to act, and my adrenaline rushed into my body at an extremely fast speed. I went into crazy mode and then getting out was the easier option.
I somehow crawled into the living room through the open bedroom door. As I was about to reach the door, I heard another loud noise, followed by a severe burn on my left leg. I was screaming in the kitchen in pain and surprise, spinning, and out of balance. I grabbed my shoulder bag from the counter and reached for my .38 with both hands. Alpha appeared in the kitchen doorway. He aimed at me silently.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but there is no other way.
My legs were burning, my heart was beating. I had a runny nose and tears blurred my vision. I held my little Smith and Weson in both hands, still in my bag. I blinked, then opened fire.
The rain gently knocked on the living room window, competing with Rex, who was sprinting at his steering wheel. It's been four days since Alpha shot me and the pain has lessened to a nasty but bearable annoyance.
Psychotherapy will be slower. I still have night terrors and I still have a hard time being home alone. After shooting Jimmy Alpha, I crawled over to the phone and called the police before I passed out. The police arrived in time to find Ramirez walking the fire ladder. They took him to the police station and took me to the hospital. I'm luckier than Alpha. He's dead. I, alive.
Ten thousand dollars have been deposited into my account. I haven't spent a single one. Seventeen stitches were stitched on my hip and I was paralyzed. When the staples were removed, I thought I would do something crazy like going to Martinique for a weekend. Or go for a tattoo. Or dye it red.
Someone knocked on my door and I jumped up. It was almost seven o'clock in the evening, and I didn't expect anyone. I walked carefully to the entrance and looked through the peephole. I was surprised to see Joe Morelli in a sports jacket and jeans, freshly shaved and dressed neatly. He looked straight at me through the peephole, with a triumphant smile. He knew I was watching him and wondered if it was safe to open the door. He waved at me, and I remembered two weeks ago, when roles were swapped.
I pulled two bolts, but didn't remove the chain. I've opened the door.
- Yes-?
"Take the chain off," Morelli said.
- So why -?
---- because I brought you a pizza, and if I tilted it for you, all the cheese would drip down.
"Is it Pino?"
"Pino, of course.
I shifted my focus to the other leg.
"Why are you bringing me pizza?"
- I don't know. I think that's all. Well, are you open or what-?
- I don't know yet.
My answer made him laugh badly.
"Are you afraid of me?"
- Uh... ui。
He didn't leave his smile.
- You did the right thing. You locked me in a refrigerated truck with three bodies. Sooner or later, I will claim compensation.
"But tonight is not ——?"
"No," he said, "not tonight.
I closed the door, removed the chain, and opened it again.
He put the white pizza box and six packs of beer on the kitchen counter and turned to me.
"You have a little difficulty walking. How do you feel-?
- Yes. Luckily, Alpha's bullet went through some grease, causing the most damage to the entrance wall.
His smile had faded.
"But are you really all right?"
I don't know how he did it, but Morelli always managed to lower my defense. Even though I was vigilant, Morelli managed to provoke me, to provoke me, to make me re-evaluate my own judgment and, in general, to create inappropriate feelings. The worried and serious expression in the corner of his eye contradicted the light tone in which he posed the question.
I bit my lower lip hard, but I couldn't suppress the silent tears slid down my cheeks.
Morelli hugged me, pressed his face to the top of my head, and kissed my hair.
We just stayed like this for a long time, and if it weren't for the pain in my hips, I would probably have fallen asleep and finally felt relieved to be safe in Morelli's arms.
"If I ask you serious questions," Morelli whispered in my ear, "would you answer me honestly?" ”
- Maybe.
"Remember that time in my dad's garage?"
"It was like I was there.
Then we put it back in the bakery.
- Mm-hmm.
"Why are you doing that?" Is my persuasiveness that great?
I looked back at him.
"I suspect, as far as I'm concerned, more of a curiosity and rebellion.
Not to mention my crazy hormones.
"So are you ready to take some responsibility for all this?"
- Yes of course.
He smiled again.
"And... If I had sex with you in your kitchen... How much responsibility are you willing to take? ”
----Oh, Morelli, I have seventeen staples on my hips!"
He sighed.
"Do you think we can still be friends after all these years?"
——! heard from the person who threw your keys in the trash
"I guess that's within the limits of what's possible. You still don't want us to sign contracts with our blood——?
"No, but we can burp between two beers.
---- it's more of my contract style.
- Okay. Now that we've agreed, I want to watch a baseball game while you have my TV.
"Men always have ulterior motives," I sighed, carrying the pizza into the living room.
Morelli followed me with a beer.
"How do you sit down?" He asked me.
---- I have a rubber shock absorber. If you take out the slightest valve, I'll bombard you.
He shrugged, took off his jacket and holster, hung them on the doorknob of my bedroom, plugged in the TV, and switched to the correct channel.
"I have news for you," he said to me. Are you ready to listen to them?
---- half an hour ago, I would have definitely answered you no, but now that I have this pizza, I'm ready for everything.
"Not pizza, my dear. This is my masculinity...
I rolled my eyes.
Morelli ignored my reaction.
"First of all," he said, "the forensic doctor said you should win the Robin Hood Best Sniper Award." Five bullets pierced Alpha's heart, less than a centimeter apart from each other. It's amazing considering you shot from your bag.
We both took a big beer because neither he nor I knew how to explain the fact that I had killed someone. Pride seems out of place. Grief doesn't matter. There are regrets, that's for sure.
"Do you think it will end in some other way?" I asked.
"No," Morelli said. If you don't shoot first, he'll shoot you.
It's true. Jimmy Alpha will kill me. I have no doubt about that.
Morelli leaned forward to better see the pitch. Howard Barker was taken off the pitch.
--! Morelli exclaimed.
He turned to me.
Well, the good news: I installed a magneto on a pole behind the parking lot. I use it to keep my safety when I'm not there. That way, at the end of the day, I know if there's anything new in my absence. When Alpha hits you, that damn thing is still working. He recorded your whole conversation, the shooting, everything.
- Great-!
"Sometimes I'm too smart and freak me out.
---- smart enough not to be locked up for the time being.
He picked a slice of pizza, threw a few slices of chili pepper and onion on the way, and picked it up with his fingers.
---- I was cleared of all charges and reinstated in the police force and paid unpaid wages. The gun and Carmen were in the barrel. Since it was frozen, the fingerprints were clearly visible, and the forensic doctor found blood on them. DNA analysis. Haven't returned yet, but initial lab tests seem to indicate it's Ziggy's blood, proving that he was armed when I fired. Apparently, as I suspected, the gun got stuck when Ziggy shot me. As he fell to the ground, his revolver fell, and Louis picked it up and took it away. Then he had to find a way to get rid of it.
I took a deep breath and asked him questions that had been bothering me for three days.
"What about Ramirez?"
---- he was arrested without bail pending the outcome of his psychiatric assessment. Now that Alpha has disappeared from the map, several women of prestige have come forward to testify against Ramirez.
This relief is almost painful.
- What is your plan -? Morelli asked. Will you continue to work for Pooh?
- I don't know.
I had some pizza.
"There's no doubt about it," I said. There are great opportunities.
"Well, from the right point of view," Said Morelli, "I'm sorry I wrote that poem on the wall of the stadium when we were in high school."
My heart was beating in my chest.
---- on the wall of the stadium -?
There was silence.
Morelli growled.
"I thought you knew.
- I know Mario's little grocery store——!
- Oh.
"You mean you wrote a poem about me on the wall of the stadium?" A poem details what we do behind the counter——?
Wouldn't it have been better if I told you that the poem was more likable——?
I wanted to slap him, but before I could pull myself off my seat with a rubber stamp, he was up and leaving.
"That was a few years ago," he said, striding away from me. , Stephanie, it's not pretty to be angry like that.
"You're a piece of garbage, Morelli. A piece of garbage
- Maybe. But I do eat... Pizza-!
