“Look who’s talking. You might be the youngest, but you always came up with the best pranks,” she said.
I chewed my minty lips. “Keep that in mind, Contessa.”
She laughed. “Have fun tonight, and call me tomorrow. Bye.” She clicked off.
I felt better about everything after talking to her, so I turned back to work and managed to draft several pleadings and begin a response brief to a motion to suppress. My office phone rang toward late afternoon, and I absently picked it up. “Anna Albertini.”
“Um, hi, Anna?”
I paused as I recognized her voice. “Kelsey?”
“Um, yeah.” She cleared her throat but her words still slurred. “So, I, um wasn’t sure who to call. It’s, um, it’s my fault.”
I leaned forward, my heart thundering. “Kelsey? Are you okay?”
Something fell in the background. “Um, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have told them. You don’t understand.” Her voice trailed off.
I fumbled for my cell phone in my purse. “Kelsey? How much have you had to drink?”
She hiccupped. “I had Vodka. It’s Danny’s favorite. I was just mad at him about your sister, and I, um, shouldn’t have talked about everything. I was so stupid. I can’t live with this.” She hiccupped again.
“How much vodka?” I paused with pressing 9-1-1.
“Just a little.” She sighed loudly, and her voice trailed off. Something clattered. “Shit. My pills.”
Oh no. “Don’t take pills. Stop, Kelsey.” What was she doing? I punched in the numbers. “Are you at your house?”
“Yeah.” A loud clattering came across the line. Then dead air. Nothing.
The 9-1-1 operator came on and I gave Kelsey’s address while grabbing my purse and running out the door and into the late afternoon to my car around the building. I sped through town to the older part and arrived behind two patrol cars and an ambulance with their lights flashing red and blue.
Neighbors had already come out on their porches to see what was going on.
I parked behind a cop car and ran down the sidewalk and up the steps to Kelsey’s open door. “Kelsey?” I yelled
“Hey.” A strong hand clamped onto my arm and jerked me to a halt. “Hold it.”
I stumbled and looked up into dark eyes set in a square face. “Bud.” The uniformed cop was built like a linebacker and looked tough with his buzz cut and big muscles. “Um, hi.” Last time we’d worked together, I’d gotten him choked out and then shot.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, pivoting to put his body between me and the kitchen.
“I’m the one who called it in,” I said, craning my neck to see past him. “Is Kelsey okay?”
Just then, Kelsey walked out of the kitchen with a bag of ice on her cheek. “I cannot believe you called the paramedics. I just tripped and fell.” With her bruised face and pale skin, she looked like she should sleep for a year.
I winced. “Sorry. You said something about pills.”
She rolled her eyes. “I spilled my vitamins on the floor and then tripped and dropped the phone.” Her voice still slurred, and she wove unsteadily on her feet.
A paramedic helped her to the sofa. “Keep drinking water.”
She looked over at Bud and smiled. “Hello.”
“Hi.” He eyed her and then me, and swear to goodness, it looked like he was weighing whether or not to leave me with her.
“I’m not that dangerous,” I protested.
He rolled his eyes.
