"Okay Melinda," he said. "But it'll probably be at least two hours," he warned."Don't worry about it," I said softly. "I'll grab something to drink to...take the edge off." Melinda, no!" he said."I meant like a soft drink, dumb ass," I snapped. "And I meant to take the edge off of my hunger." I hung up on him then. I guess he was right to be concerned. I'd nearly drunk myself to death after my divorce. I drank to the point where I'd begun to damage my liver. Lucky for me one of the therapists. Her father was a cop — Officer Krupke. He was just as gullible as his namesake from West Side Story, but nothing like him in looks. He must have weighed in at 250, most of it muscle. Kind of off-blond hair, impossible to comb into anything that would stay put for more than a minute or two. I remember the blond hair on his arms was thick like fur, but almost invisible.When Weinstein made his declaration that resulted in my nickname and reputation, I was a rather unremarkable junior high kid. I'd. More

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