<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #FFFFBF">What a way to start the day</span></span>, he thought to his half-awake sarcastic self.<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #FFFFBF">The sun ain't even up yet and I got a dame bleeding on my couch. At least she could have brought coffee.</span></span>His eyes followed her blood covered fingers, then retraced their path down to her side.<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #FFFFBF">Damn. Someone done a number on her..</span></span><br/><br/>He gently pinned her shoulders and eased her back down to a laying position as she babbled about something in the bakery.<span style="font-weight: bold">"Just calm down and hold still. We need to get you checked out."</span>He carefully raised the hem of her blouse to reveal the source of blood. It looked like a gunshot wound. Like the bullet grazed off a rib, taking a hunk of flesh with it. It was bleeding pretty good. He continued.<span style="font-weight: bold"> "If someone is dead downstairs, they can wait. They ain't goin nowhere."</span>.  Not only did she need his attention, he wasn't real crazy about running blind into a possible murder scene until the killer or killers had ample time to go away.  He eased the blouse back down. He took her hand and pressed it against the blouse, over the injury.<span style="font-weight: bold">"Hold some pressure there a minute."</span><br/><br/>He stood and walked over to the coat rack beside the door. Going through the pockets of his suit coat, he produced a fairly clean handkerchief. Then he rummaged through the big bottom left drawer of the monster desk. The drawer that was intended for file folders was crammed full of everything that didn't seem to belong anywhere else.  He found a roll of masking tape, and a roll of black electrical tape. After careful consideration, he chose the masking tape.<span style="text-decoration: underline">It was cheaper</span>.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"We'll get you all fixed up in a jiffy!" </span>This was his attempt at good bedside manner. He sat back down beside her and lifted the blouse again to reveal the wound. He folded the handkerchief and pressed it against her.<span style="font-weight: bold">"Hold this a sec." </span>(Assuming she does) The tip of his tongue poked out the corner of his mouth as he tore off strips of tape and taped the cloth tight against the hole in her flesh.<span style="font-weight: bold">"There we go,"</span>. It was at this point Carl learned just how hard it was to sound cheerful before coffee.<span style="font-weight: bold">"Hopefully that will stop the bleeding."</span>He was concerned that she may need a stitch or two.<br/><br/>With that, he walked back across the office, tossing the tape on the desk as he went by. He pulled a little Dixie paper cup from the dispenser. He held it under the tap below the upside down water cooler jug and filled it with nice cool water. On his way back to the couch he drug one of the client office chairs with him. He straddled the office chair backwards, resting his arms on the chairs backing. He handed the water out to her.<span style="font-weight: bold">"Now, tell me again, from the  beginning."</span>He was looking at the gash on her forehead as he spoke. It would need more attention in a few minutes.<span style="font-weight: bold"> "What happened?"</span>.   A Camel non filtered appeared between his lips and the sound of flint against flint produced a flame.The metallic click of the lighter's lid extinguished the flame as he exhaled smoke from his nose and mouth at the same time.