Before the ambulance had even come to a stop in the driveway at Hennepin County Medical Center, Tommy had leaped from her Jeep and was rushing to the back doors just as they wheeled Detective Kelly out on the gurney. He was sitting up, pulling at the restraints and pleading with the EMT’s to let him out.
“Come on, Joe. It’s me Kelly. I can walk in. I mean I’m fine. Just a scratch.”
Tommy gasped when she saw the bandage across Kelly’s forehead.
“Oh, my God. What happened?”
He smiled. “Mr. Dickinson in the basement with a candlestick,” he said.
“Very funny, detective. What the hell happened?”
“As soon as you called, Costello barged into the apartment and untied me. It’s a good thing, too. Our friend the pathologist had turned on the gas stove so I was too sleepy to even realize what was going on.”
“Oh, thank God.” Tommy was still furious that the homicide detectives had kept her in her apartment for questioning when she was itching to go see Kelly.
Tears welled in her eyes.
Kelly wrapped her in his arms.
“It’s okay, Scoop,” he said. “Everything is going to be okay.”