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“I’ll make a deal,” I said to Myron. “If you come with me, I’ll get you a date with my grandmother. She’s real cute.”
“Does she put out for knicky-knacky?”
“No!”
“Criminy,” Lula said to Myron. “What’s with you and the knicky-knacky? Do it by yourself and get it over with just like the rest of us.”
“He’s not real big,” I said to Lula. “Probably about a hundred and sixty pounds. If we hog-tie him, we should be able to cart him out to the car.”
“Yeah, and he don’t have no teeth, so we don’t have to worry about him biting us.”
“You can’t do that to me,” Myron said. “I’m old. I’ll have a heart attack. I’ll pee my pants.”
Lula was hands on hips. “I hate when they pee their pants. It’s a humiliating experience. And it ruins the upholstery.”
I cut my eyes to Myron. “Well? How do you want us to do this?”
“I gotta go to the bathroom before you hog-tie me,” Myron said. “Or else I’ll pee for sure.”
“You’ve got three minutes,” I said to him.
“I can’t go in three minutes. I’m old. I’ve got a prostate the size of a basketball.”
“Just go!”
Myron trotted off to the bathroom, and Lula and I waited in the front room. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes. I went to the bathroom door and knocked. No answer.
“Myron?”
Nothing. I tried the door. Locked. I called again and rapped louder. Shit!
“I need something to pop the lock,” I said to Lula. “Do you have a safety pin? Chicken skewer? Knitting needle?”
“I got a bobby pin.”
Lula bent the pin open, shoved it in the little hole in the knob, and the door unlocked and we peeked in. No Myron in the bathroom. Open window.
“He gets around, for bein’ he’s so old,” Lula said, looking out the window.
This was the second time today I’d lost a skip through a window.
I couldn’t even categorize myself as incompetent. I had to go with pathetically stupid.
“Now what are we gonna do?” Lula asked.
Ordinarily, I’d walk the neighborhood and try to ferret out my skip. Problem was, I had Lula in her yellow spandex, and we were way too visible. You could probably see Lula from the space shuttle.
“I’m going to drop you at the office, and I’m going back to work for Ranger,” I said. “Morelli told me the crime lab was done with your apartment. Is your landlord replacing your door?”
“I don’t know. I gotta call and find out.”
I DROVE PAST the bonds office twice before pulling to the curb to let Lula out.
“I don’t see anything suspicious,” I said to her. “I think you’re safe.”
“This has been another disturbin’ day, what with those two assholes lookin’ to kill me, and findin’ out that I’m fat. I might go back on that bacon diet.”
“The bacon diet is unhealthy. And you had packs of dogs chasing you down the street when you were on the bacon diet. All you need to do is control your portions. Stay away from the doughnuts and only eat one piece of chicken or one pork chop or one hamburger at a meal.”
