"I'll call the police department," Dean said, "then an ambulance."
She shook her head. "No. It's finished. Fitzgerald's history. Just remember all of this. Then get out."
"This blood isn't all yours. . . ."
"You've got no official capacity here, Mr. Dean. This is just a domestic disturbance. Take a hike." She made a sound like a chuckle.
"Did you fire your gun?" This time there was no doubt that Lydia laughed but didn't answer. The laugh caused her to double over again, her body was wracked with renewed coughing.
He went to her side but she turned away. "Just get me a drink. In the kitchen. Then go."
He found a fifth of whiskey setting on the counter and opened half the cabinet doors before finding a glass. When he handed her the drink, he could see she was shaking.
"I'll get you a robe. You're shivering." He moved toward her bedroom. Contrary to his previous visit, the door remained closed.
"No!" she said sharply. "Stay out of my bedroom!" Lydia rose as if to stop him. Dean hesitated, his hand on the knob. She relaxed, dropped back down on the sofa, and nodded toward the front closet. "In there. There's a sweater."
He followed her direction and tossed the garment to her. "Look," he said, "we have to call the police. I don't know what went on here, but the law should be involved." He motioned toward the bedroom. "Is Fitzgerald in there?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer. He didn't get one.
"Play the middle monkey-see no evil. Go home. Now that you've seen all this, get out and go home to sweet little what's-her name."
"Lydia, be sensible. You're spitting up blood. You're hurt inside-maybe seriously. You should be in a hospital."
"Probably." She winced as she bent over at the waist. "But I'm not going. A couple more slugs of this stuff and I'll be fine." She refilled he glass. "I figured you might come by and I wanted you to see it. Now let me alone."
Dean stared at the woman's near crumpled figure. "Did he rape you, Lydia?"
"Give him an 'A' for effort." she answered as she closed her eyes, dipped her head back. She took a long slow swallow of liquor. "No. There's no way I'd let that happen."
"I should have known he'd come after you," Dean muttered.
The fire returned to her eyes momentarily. "Hell, yes, you should have known! You just took too damn long getting here." Another swallow.
"If you drink any more of that stuff, you'll pass out and maybe bleed to death inside. Use some sense, Lydia."