Free The Wicked Flea by Susan Conant

taken a fall. One of her bare legs was covered with mud and grass, she had a smear of earth on her face, and she was brushing dirt off her hands. Her cheeks were bright red. At the time, I assumed that ire had made the blood rush to her face. I now know that she just had good coloring. For that matter, she had good everything: a pretty face, large eyes, great legs, and an enviably voluptuous build. Now, her dark eyes crackled, and as she shifted her weight from the ball of one foot to the ball of another, she reminded me of a Scottie sparring in the show ring in a display of the true terrier character that judges love.
    Sylvia was screaming, “What the hell was I supposed to do? You lunged at my dog!”
    “I did not lunge at him!” the terrier shouted.
    “Her! Zsa Zsa! You made a vicious grab for her!” Sylvia screamed. “And you shoved me! You did it deliberately!”
    Her opponent was suddenly and ominously motionless. Staring at Sylvia, she said, “I want your name and address.”
    “My name and address are none of your goddamned business,” Sylvia told her.
    “Oh, yes they are,” replied the runner, reaching under her bulky black sweatshirt and pulling out, of all things, a pair of handcuffs. After once again fishing under her sweatshirt, she produced a black leather case that she opened and held out for Sylvia to see. “Police officer,” she announced. “You’re under arrest. Assault on a police officer. Resisting arrest.”
    With that, she quickly stepped behind Sylvia and, pulling Sylvia’s hand from Zsa Zsa’s collar, cuffed her hands behind her back.
    “You moron!” Sylvia sputtered. “How could I have resisted arrest before you tried to arrest me? You just told me this second you were a cop! Am I resisting arrest? I’m not resisting! How was I supposed to... and I haven’t done anything! You’re the one who pushed me, you bitch! And for Christ’s sake, would someone get Zsa Zsa! Pia, would you for once make yourself useful!”
    Released from Sylvia’s grip, Zsa Zsa had fallen silent. She continued to stand near Sylvia, but made no effort to protect her. The golden’s expression was oddly sleepy or dazed, and she showed no inclination to go after any of the other dogs. I often carry a spare leash and was now glad that I had one with me. Pulling it from my pocket, I handed it to someone and asked to have it passed to Pia, who, in contrast to Zsa Zsa, was aggressively defending Sylvia. “My mother did not push you! You lunged at Zsa Zsa, and then you slipped and fell. Everyone saw you. If anyone assaulted anyone, it was you! When you put those stupid handcuffs on her, you wrenched her wrist, and I saw you! This is ridiculous! You can’t arrest my mother !”
    The officer paid no attention, mainly because she was busy talking into a mobile phone.
    “Pia, shut up!” Sylvia ordered.
    “I can’t believe she’s a cop,” Pia went on. The leash had finally been passed to her. As she snapped it on Zsa Zsa’s collar, she asked rhetorically, “Does she look like a cop? No! How was anyone supposed to know? She never said she was a cop. Did she?”
    “Certainly not,” declared Ceci, who, of course, hadn’t witnessed the beginning of the episode. “She just went running up to Sylvia and made a very threatening move toward Zsa Zsa, and then she lost her balance and fell. No one assaulted anyone.”
    Stepping forward, Noah tried to take charge and restore peace. “Officer, there seems to have been a misunderstanding. Let’s try to get this straightened—” The cop cut him off. “There’s no misunderstanding. What there is, is assault on a police officer.”
    Sidling up to me, Wilson whispered, “What a fiasco! Sylvia did push her. For heaven’s sake, don’t mention this to Mrs. Waggenhoffer! I suppose I’d better go call a lawyer. Except there’s probably one here. Do you think I should ask?”
    The notion struck me as ridiculous. Is there a lawyer in the park? “Ceci, I think we