“From a homicide charge, I mean,” she clarified.
“Oh. Right. Probably should.”
He moved forward and pulled Bentley off the other man. It took some doing. The veterinarian was obviously reluctant to give up his pastime.
“Now, now,” Rourke calmed him, “we have to have enough left to prosecute. Besides, Cappie needs some TLC. She’s pretty bruised.”
Bentley was catching his breath as he walked quickly back to Cappie. He winced at the sight of her face. “My poor baby,” he exclaimed, bending to kiss her bruised cheek with exquisite tenderness. “Let me just go back over there and hit him one more time…!”
“No,” she protested, grabbing his suit coat. “Rourke’s right, we have to have enough of him left to prosecute. Bentley, you were magnificent!”
“So were you, kicking him in the leg,” he chuckled.
“I guess we make a pretty good team,” she mused.
“You can say that again.”
She put a hand to her cheek. “Boy, that stings.”
“It looks like hell. You’ll have to see a doctor.”
“Fortunately there are plenty of those right inside,” Rourke came back in time to reply. “See the letters? They spell outhospital.”
She drew back a fist.
Rourke held up both hands. “Now, now, I’m on your side.” He nodded toward one of the men in suits who had a long black ponytail. “Recognize him?”
She frowned. “No…”
“That’s Detective Sergeant Rick Marquez,” he told her. “He was just on his way to the opera when we phoned and said an assault with intent was going down in front of the hospital. He broke speed records getting here.”
“How kind of him,” Cappie said.
“Not really. He always goes to the opera alone. He can’t get women.”
“But, why not?” she wondered. “He’s a dish.”
“He carries a gun,” Rourke pointed out.
“You carry a gun.”
“I can’t get women, either.”
“What a shame.”
He moved closer. “I’m available.”
She laughed as Bentley stepped in front of her, glowering.
“Wait, scratch that, I just remembered, I’m not available,” Rourke said quickly.
“Even if you were, she’s not,” Bentley said.
“There you are, again, starting trouble,” Rick Marquez chuckled, joining them. He looked at Cappie’s face and grimaced. “Damn, I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner,” he apologized. “I couldn’t get a cab and I had to run all the way.”
“Fortunately you’re in great shape,” Rourke said.
“Fortunately I am,” Marquez agreed. “What are you and Billings doing here?”
