“This here’s real nice,” Lula said. “Surprisingly plush. ’Course, I’m a animal-print person, myself, so I appreciate the decor.”
“I did it myself,” Mooner said. “I was going for retro animal kingdom.” Mooner ground the RV into gear, performed a U-turn at the dirt road, and headed back to Trenton. “Were you ladies attending the bonfire?” he asked. “It has to be mega. I could see the glow from the bridge.”
“We didn’t go to the bonfire,” I told him. “We were just riding around and the car broke down.”
“I could turn this bus around and take you to the fire if you want,” Mooner said.
“Not necessary,” I told him. “You’ve seen one fire, you’ve seen them all.”
“So true,” Mooner said. “Personally, I’m more a wind man. Wind rocks.”
Mooner dropped Connie off at her brother’s house, so she could retrieve her car, and he took Lula and me back to the bonds office. Lula got into her Firebird and drove away, and I walked back to the Jeep, where Morelli was waiting for me. He was lounging against the Jeep, arms crossed over his chest.
“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”
“You were asking about Bobby Sunflower, so I thought you’d want to know one of his properties burned to the ground tonight.”
“Which one burned?”
“His Pennyslvania house.”
“Was anyone in the house?”
“It’s too early to tell. No one was rescued.” Morelli wrapped me in his arms and nuzzled my hair. “You smell smoky,” he said.
“Must be from Mooner’s motor home. He took us for a demo ride.”
“It’s not nice to lie,” Morelli said.
Our eyes locked.
“Do you honestly want the truth?” I asked him.
Morelli thought about it for a beat. “No,” he said.
I stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the nose. “It’s late. I have to go home. I have a big day of bounty huntering tomorrow.”
His arms were still locked around me. “I could go home with you.”
“You’d go home with someone who might be a liar?”
“Yeah,” Morelli said. “I’m getting desperate.”
“You were the one who wanted to break up. You said I wasn’t relationship material.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You did!”
“Can I take it back? I hadn’t had my coffee yet. And I needed . . .”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You needed what?”
“Toast,” Morelli said. He blew out a sigh. “This isn’t going to happen tonight, is it?”
“No.”
I was getting mad all over again. No one pushed my buttons like Morelli. I mean, why was I the one who had to remember to buy the bread? Okay, in all honesty, I thought this was a pretty stupid thing to break up over. And in all honesty, I should have remembered to buy bread. That didn’t alter the fact that I was mad. Mad wasn’t a reasonable emotion. And the truth was, I wasn’t entirely sure if I was mad at Morelli or mad at myself.
TEN
I ROLLED INTO the bonds office at nine o’clock. Connie was at her desk. Lula hadn’t as yet arrived.
“Have you heard anything about the fire?” I asked Connie.
“So far, no bodies found. Word on the street is there’s a war going on between Bobby Sunflower and some under-the-radar Mob guy.”
“Did your brother get his car back?”
“He’s picking it up from impound today. The police suspect it was stolen by someone associated with the fire.”
“Only tangentially.”
“That’s a big word,” Connie said.
“I heard it on television. I’m pretty sure I used it right.”
The phone rang, and Connie answered. “Yeah,” she said to the caller. “I understand.” She hung up and looked at me. “That was a reminder that we have two days left to come up with the money. And it’s now grown to a million one.”
“At least we know Vinnie didn’t burn up in the house.”
“Looks that way. I suppose it’s a good thing, although I’m starting to think it might be easier just to look for a new job.”
Lula bustled in. “What’d I miss? Did I miss anything? I overslept. And then I couldn’t figure out what to wear. And my coffeepot’s broke, so I had to stop at Starbucks, and the line was out the door.”
“We found out Vinnie didn’t burn up in the house,” I told her.
“Hunh,” Lula said. “But then on the bright side, since he isn’t dead, we might get to use the stink bomb after all.”
“Every cloud has a silver lining,” Connie said.
“You got bags under your eyes,” Lula said to me. “You spend the night with Morelli?”
“No. We’re in the off-again phase of our on-again, off-again relationship,” I told her. “It was just one of those sleepless nights.”
I had bags under my eyes because I’d thrashed around all night in a state over bread. And then I was in a state because I had two men in my life, and I had no clue what to do with them. I loved them each in different ways, and I was too traditional and Catholic to just enjoy them. How sick is that? I wasn’t a practicing Catholic, but I had guilt. And I was stuck with all these rules about relationships. And then there was my mother, who I suspect was mortally afraid I’d end up with Ranger. And my grandmother, who probably thought I was an idiot not to be sleeping with both of them. And my father, who didn’t think there was a man alive who was worthy of me. So I’d probably gotten about an hour’s sleep last night. And then Chet had called at seven o’clock. Midmorning for Ranger’s team.
“This morning, Chet called with a list of properties Sunflower owns through his holding company,” I told Connie and Lula. “I’m going to do a drive-by on everything that’s local.”
“I’m up for that,” Lula said. “It’s a nice sunny day out. Perfect for riding around. Maybe we should put the top down on the Jeep.”
FOR THE MOST part, the holding company owned commercial real estate that was leased out to a variety of businesses. A supermarket, a dry cleaner, a pet store, a hair salon, a natural foods store, and a couple empty lots.
“This is interesting,” Lula said. “Here’s this Sunflower guy who’s real bad, making his money off prostitution and gambling and drugs, and then he’s got this whole other side that’s got legitimate, boring businesses. Don’t you find that interesting? I mean, the man owns a natural foods store.”
“He doesn’t actually own the store. He owns the physical space.”
“Same difference. And a pet store filled with puppies and shit. I mean, can you see Bobby Sunflower selling puppies?”
“He doesn’t personally sell puppies.”
“But suppose he did. Wouldn’t that be weird?”
I’D DRIVEN PAST all the properties on Chet’s list and I was now parked on Liberty Street. Nothing on the list had the potential for holding Vinnie captive.
“I don’t know where to go from here,” I said to Lula. “I have two days to find Vinnie, and I’m out of ideas.”
“I got ideas,” Lula said. “They’re about lunch. I’m thinking nachos.”
“Good idea,” I told her. “I know just the place.”
I drove down Liberty to Broad and followed Broad across town to Marble Street. I pulled into the 7-Eleven lot and parked. Mickey Gritch was on the other side of the lot, conducting business as usual.
I gave Lula a twenty. “Get me nachos and a drink. I’m going to talk to Mickey.”
“You sure you don’t want me behind you doin’ backup?”
“No. I can manage on my own.”
I waited for a guy in a rumpled suit to walk away from Gritch. When the guy got in his car, I moved in.
“Hey,” I said to Gritch. “Long time no see.”
“Not long enough,” Gritch said. “Get away from me. You’re like poison.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know. By association.”
“Tal
k to me,” I said.
Gritch rolled his engine over. “I’m leaving.”
“You can talk to me here, or you can talk to me at your house,” I said. “I know where you live.”
I’d had good luck with Ernie Wilkes with that threat. I figured I’d roll it out and try it again.
“You wouldn’t do that,” Gritch said.
“Yep,” I said. “I would.”
“That’s not fair. A man’s home is his castle.”
“Where’s Vinnie?”
“I don’t know. I swear. I guess he was at Sunflower’s house in Pennsylvania, but it got firebombed, and they moved him. I’m serious now. Walk away. Let Sunflower do whatever he has to do to Vinnie. He’s dealing with crazy people. I don’t even know who they are, but they scare the crap out of me.”
“I need a name.”
“I don’t have a name. I’m not a big player in the organization. I heard Blutto tossed around, but I don’t know what it means. I don’t know if it’s a first name or a last name or a nickname.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“You’re not going to visit me, are you?”
“No.”
“Nothing personal, but that’s a relief.”
I left Gritch to his lunch trade and went back to the Jeep. Lula swung in minutes later with two boxes of nachos and two giant-size sodas.
“What about the one diet?” I asked her. “Aren’t you only allowed to have one chip?”
“That diet isn’t real specific about meaning one chip or one box of nachos. I’m thinking of quitting that diet anyway. It don’t work. I think I’m going to have to look for a new diet.”
I finished the nachos, and I was torn between going after Chopper and continuing to look for Vinnie. If I caught Chopper, I might be able to get my car fixed. I loved the Jeep, but it wasn’t mine. Eventually, it would have to be returned to Ranger. Especially if I got back together with Morelli. Using one man’s car and sleeping in another man’s bed didn’t work. At least not when the men were Ranger and Morelli. Of course, if I slept with Ranger, I might be able to keep the Jeep indefinitely.
“What the heck are you thinking?” Lula asked me. “You’re mumbling and rolling your eyes and sighing.”
“I was thinking I need to find Vinnie. He only has two days left.”
“Do you think Sunflower would really kill Vinnie?”
“Yes,” I said. “I think he’d kill Vinnie.”
“I do, too,” Lula said. “Sunflower’s a bad man.”
I finished my soda, collected the trash, and ran it over to the trash can by the door. I ran back and cranked the Jeep over.
“Where we going?” Lula wanted to know. “We’ve already been all over the place.”
“I have a hunch. They had to hustle Vinnie out of the burning house and stash him someplace else. It would have to be someplace easy on short notice. Someplace like an apartment building.”
“The rat house.”
“Exactly.”
In fifteen minutes, we were in front of the apartment building on Stark. The area around the apartment was quiet at this time of the day, but a scrawny guy, who I assumed had a big gun, was slouched on a folding chair by the door.
“That’s like a advertisement Vinnie’s in there,” Lula said.
“Maybe.”
I drove around the corner and turned into the alley. We counted off units, and I idled behind the apartment building. It had six parking spaces marked off in its small lot. The rest of the lot was given over to a Dumpster. The black SUV was parked in one of the spaces. The building had a back door at ground level. One window with bars at ground level. No bars on the windows on the second, third, and fourth floors. A rusted fire escape clung precariously to the back of the building.
“Try the back door,” I said to Lula.
Lula dropped out of the Jeep, crossed the lot, and tried the door. Locked. She got back into the Jeep.
“Now what?” Lula said. “I think he’s in there, but I don’t know if the stink bomb’s gonna work. This place already smells like a stink bomb. Plus, they got a ticket taker on the front door.”
“One of us needs to go in and look around.”
“You?”
“No,” I said. “You.”
“Why me? I’m only the assistant bounty hunter, and I’m not even sure I want to rescue Vinnie.”
“You can get by the guy at the door. Tell him you’re making a delivery to the nasty fat guy on the third floor.”
“Am I goin’ door to door, selling Girl Scout cookies?”
“No. Once you get in, just look around and listen for voices.”
I dropped Lula off at the corner and watched her swing her ass past the funeral home and up to the guy at the door to the apartment building. She stood and talked to him for a short time, and then she went inside. After ten minutes, I looked in my rear view mirror and spotted a Rangeman SUV double-parked in front of a bar half a block back. The cowardly part of me was happy to see them there, but the rest of my brain acknowledged that I led a weird life. I had a cop boyfriend who hated my job and tried to get me to quit. And I had a security expert potential lover who didn’t tell me to quit my job, but had me under constant surveillance. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
Lula popped out of the building’s open front door, and the door guard grabbed her by the arm. I was ready to roll if it looked like she was in danger. Not that I would be much good as a rescuer, but the two heavily armed, overly muscled guys on my bumper could do some damage.
Lula jollied herself away from the door guard and sashayed down the sidewalk to where I was waiting. She got into the Jeep, I waved to the Rangeman guys, and I drove off.
“Well?” I asked her.
“He’s there. He’s in the back unit on the fourth floor. I could hear him talking. Sounded like they were playing cards.”
“Any problems? Anyone see you?”
“Just the moron at the door, and he bought the ’ho line.”
It was too late to catch Chopper at his lunch stops, and I wasn’t in the mood to start looking for the toilet paper bandit, so I headed back to the office. I needed to talk to Connie anyway. It was one thing to find Vinnie, it was a whole other deal to rescue him. As much as I would love to see Connie shoot off a stink bomb, I had serious doubts about it as a rescue aid. Seemed to me a stink bomb, like a fire bomb, got everyone out of the building, but didn’t give us an opportunity to snatch Vinnie.
I was halfway across town when Grandma Mazur called. “I think I broke my foot,” she said. “I was dancing to one of them workout videos, and I accidentally stubbed my toe on the coffee table, and now I think something’s broke. At first, I thought it wasn’t broke, but it’s turned purple, and it’s all swelled up.”
“Where’s Mom?”
“She’s at the beauty parlor. And your father’s playing pinochle at his club. And I hate to call the ambulance people, because then I’ll be a spectacle. There’ll be rumors I’m dead. I just need you to give me a ride to the emergency room.”
ELEVEN
LULA AND I stood in the living room, looking at Grandma’s foot.
“It looks broke all right,” Lula said to Grandma. “That’s one heck of an ugly foot you got there, but I like the polish you got on your toes. What’s the name of that?”
“Red Hot Rapture. Lucky I just painted them yesterday. Imagine breaking your foot when your toes weren’t done up.”
“Yeah,” Lula said. “I’d hate that. Does it hurt?”
“It used to, but I took a couple snorts of Jack Daniels, and I’m pretty happy.”
“We need to get her to the car,” I said to Lula.
“Okay,” Lula said. “Do you want to carry her or drag her?”
“Can you hop?” I asked Grandma.
“I could before the Jack Daniels, but now I’m not so sure.”
Lula got on one side of Grandma, and I got on the other, and we scooped Grandma up and got her out the door, down the sidewalk, and
to the Jeep. I was afraid to alley-oop her, so I dragged her up onto the passenger seat.
“It’s a shame we gotta go to the hospital,” Grandma said. “I feel like having some fun. I wouldn’t mind seeing some naked men.”
“How much Jack did you have?” Lula asked.
“I don’t need Jack to want to see naked men,” Grandma said. “You get to be my age, and there’s not a whole lot of opportunity. I signed up for one of those porn movies on TV once, and it was all girls. You only got to see the men from the back. What good is that?”
“I hear you,” Lula said.
Saint Francis Hospital is about three minutes from my parents’ house. I pulled into the emergency room drive-through, off-loaded Grandma into a wheelchair with Lula in charge, and hustled to the parking garage.
By the time I got back to the emergency room, Grandma had been wheeled off somewhere to be evaluated, and Lula was busy reading magazines.
“This is an excellent emergency room,” Lula said. “They got a good selection of magazines. And people tell me they know what they’re doing here when it comes to shootings and knifings, on account of they get so much practice.”
An hour later, they wheeled Grandma back to the waiting room with a big black boot thing on her foot.
“It’s broke, all right,” she said. “I got to see the X-ray.”
“What have you got on your foot?” Lula wanted to know.
“The bone was just cracked a little, so they wrapped my foot up in this boot thing instead of putting it in a cast. I can walk on it and everything.”
Grandma got out of the wheelchair and took the boot for a test-drive.
Step, stomp, step, stomp, step, stomp.
The boot came to mid calf, was foam-padded and held secure with thick Velcro straps. The bottom of the boot was two inches of hard molded plastic. When Grandma walked, she was tipped to one side, since one leg was two inches longer now than the other.
“I feel gimpy in this boot,” Grandma said. “And my butt cheeks don’t match up. One feels higher than the other. I can’t squeeze to keep the breezers in.”