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“He's gonna have a viewing tonight,” Grandma said. “It's gonna be a good one, too. His lodge will be there. And Lydia Farstein is the drama queen of the Burg. She'll be carrying on something awful. If you haven't got anything better to do, you should come to the viewing with me. I could use a ride.”
Grandma loved going to viewings. Stiva's Funeral Home was the social center of the Burg. I thought having my thumb amputated would be a preferred activity.
“And everyone's going to be talking about the Barroni thing,” Grandma said.
“I can't believe he hasn't turned up. It's like he was abducted by Martians.”
Okay, now this interested me. Morelli was working on the Barroni disappearance. And Ranger was working on the Gorman disappearance, which
might be connected to the Barroni disappearance. I was glad I wasn't working on either of those cases, but on the other hand, I felt a smidgeon left out.
So sue me, I'm nosy.
“Sure,” I said. “I'll pick you up at seven o'clock.”
“Your father got gravy on his gray slacks,” my mother said. “If you're going to apply for a job at the cleaner, would you mind taking the slacks with you? It would save me a trip.”
A half hour later, I had a job with Kan Klean. The hours were seven to three. They were open seven days a week, and I agreed to work weekends. The pay wasn't great, but I could wear jeans and a T-shirt to work, and they confirmed my mother's suspicion that they'd never been held up and that to date none of their employees had been shot while on the job. I handed over the gravy-stained slacks and agreed to show up at seven the next morning. I didn't feel quite as nauseated as I had after getting the button factory job. So I was making progress, right?
I drove three blocks down Hamilton and stopped at the bonds office to say hello.
“Look what the wind blew in,” Lula said when she saw me. “I heard you got the job at the button factory. How come you're not working?”
“I spent the night with Morelli and overslept. So I was late rolling in to work.”
“And?”
“And I got fired.”
“That was fast,” Lula said. “You're good. It takes most people a couple days to get fired.”
“Maybe it all worked out for the best. I got another job already at Kan Klean.”
“Do you get a discount?” Lula wanted to know. “I got some dry cleaning to send out. You could pick it up tomorrow here at the office on your way to work.”
“Sure,” I said. “Why not.” I shuffled through the small stack of files on Connie's desk. “Anything fun come in?”
“Yeah, its all fun,” Connie said. “We got a rapist. We got
a guy who beat up his girlfriend. We got a couple pushers.”
“I'm doing the DV this afternoon,” Lula said.
“DV?”
“Domestic violence. My time's real valuable now that I'm a bounty hunter. I gotta use abbreviations. Like I'm doing the DV in the PM.”
I heard Vinnie growl from his inner office. “Jesus HIM. Christmas,” he said.
“Who would have thought my life would come to this?”
“Hey, Vinnie,” I yelled to him. “How's it going?”
Vinnie poked his head out his door. “I gave you a job when you needed one and now you desert me. Where's the gratitude?”
Vinnie is a couple inches taller than me and has the slim, boneless body of a ferret. His coloring is Mediterranean. His hair looks like it's slicked back with olive oil. He wears pointy-toed shoes and a lot of gold. He's the family pervert. He's married to Harry-the-Hammer's daughter. And in spite of his personality shortcomings (or maybe because of them) he's an okay bail bondsman. Vinnie understands the criminal mind.
“You didn't give me the job,” I said to Vinnie. “I blackmailed you into it. And I got good numbers when I was working for you. My apprehension rate was close to ninety percent.”
