—The Kelly Rules SMILEY WAS STILL fussing over me an hour later. We’d made a quick return to the hotel to clean up and assess the damage. Tyler had insisted. “I told you I’m okay. What will it take to convince you?” I said. “Confirmation from a doctor.” “No way am I sitting in an emergency room because I have bruised knees yet again and my palms are scratched.” He got his cop face on. That always makes me resist more. “If you find a doctor who can replace my lost fedora, then we might have a deal,” I said. “Never mind the stupid hat. What about your head?” “What about my stupid head?” “I did not say ‘your stupid head.’” “But did you think it?” “I thought that if you hit your head, you could have been seriously injured.