She ignored the compliment. Given their unsteady relationship, she thought she’d be wiser to focus on the assault. “And you never got a sense of anybody behind you? A movement? A shadow? A smell even?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you remember what hit you? The guy didn’t strike you with his bare hand. He had to be holding something.”
“A bat, I guess.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Some guy wandered down Ninth Avenue with a bat, then darted into an alley and nobody questioned him?”
“It was dark and chilly,” Devin said, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe the guy wore a coat.”
“Did he?” she shot back.
“How should I—” He paused, cocking his head. “Maybe I passed somebody as I was walking.”
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