"Well, whatever it was, we need to get back to work."  The vet tried to sound businesslike, but there was a tiny tremor in his voice.  He was tough, and hid it well.  I doubt any of his staff noticed.  But they hadn't been in battle before.

      God help me.  I had.

# # #

    They worked on Shameless with even more than their usual brisk efficiency.  I was embarrassed about my outburst and they were embarrassed for me.  It was awkward as hell.  It was even more awkward when, after I paid my bill, the wide-eyed receptionist thanked me for my service.

    I managed to nod and make some kind of noise of acknowledgment--the kid was trying to be nice.  But I felt like a freak already, and the reminder, on top of what had happened so far this morning, was just more than I was ready to cope with.  I wanted to go home.  I wanted to crawl into bed, pull up the covers and just be alone, with my dog, in a quiet, safe place.  Yes, I'd witnessed a murder.  Yes, I should go to the cops.  But truth was, I couldn't do it.  Not in my current condition.  I'd come off as a lunatic.  They wouldn't believe me.  They'd be kind.  But there would be whispers of "PTSD" and, God help me, I just wasn't up for that.  Later maybe . . . probably.  Not now.

    I ran into a  police roadblock two blocks before my street.  They'd blockaded the road by parking the car with its lights flashing cross-ways in the middle of the street so that there wasn't enough room to get around it.  I turned where the nice officer directed me, but then pulled to the curb.  Leaving Shameless in the car, I walked over to ask the cop what was up.

    "There's been a gas explosion a couple of blocks away.  We're not allowing anyone in the area until it's safe and everything's been dealt with."

    "My house is a couple of blocks away."  My voice was shaky.  I was trying to sound calm.  I wasn't succeeding.  My mind was racing--my car had been unlocked.  My registration is in the glove box--with my address on it.  It would be just like Winston to say he was giving me time and not do it.  "Element of surprise" and all that happy crap.

     "What's the address?"

    I told him.

    "Wait right here."