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Okay, that was sad. I thought it might be satisfying, but it wasn’t at all. I drove on autopilot to my apartment building, surprised when I realized I was parked in the lot. I hauled my laundry basket to the second floor, let myself in, and listened to the silence of my empty apartment. The silence felt lonely. Rex was still with Ranger. I wasn’t greeted by rustling pine bedding or the squeak of Rex’s wheel. I carted the basket into my bedroom, set it on the floor, and my cell phone rang.
“Bitch,” Joyce Barnhardt said when I answered.
“Do you have a problem?”
“You poisoned me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb. You knew exactly what you were doing when you forced that pork on me.”
“Gee, I’d really like to talk to you, Joyce, but I have to go do something.”
“I’ll get you for this . . . as soon as I can leave the bathroom.”
I hung up with Joyce, and I heard the front door open.
“I hope you don’t mind I let myself in,” Lula called from the foyer. “I still got the key you gave me.”
“No problem,” I said, and I came out to meet her.
There was a BANG from the parking lot, followed by the sound of glass breaking.
“That sounded like a window next door,” Lula said.
We stuck our heads out the dining room window and looked down at the lot. Two guys were standing there, and one had some sort of shotgun. They were wearing masks like Zorro, but they were still recognizable because one of them was giggling. They were the Chipotle killers.
“Imbecile,” the one guy yelled at the other guy. “You can’t even shoot a stupid firebomb into the right window. You’re a total screw-up. You never do anything right.”
“You said she lived in the apartment on the end.”
“I said next to the end.”
“Looks to me like there’s smoke comin’ from your neighbor’s apartment,” Lula said.
The fire alarm went off next door, and I could hear doors opening and closing in the hall and people shouting. I turned my attention back to the lot and saw the smaller of the two men shoulder the gun.
“Uh-oh,” Lula said. “Duck!”
We went flat to the floor, and BANG! A small black ball sailed past us, crashed against the far wall, and burst into flames. The flames raced across the carpet and the curtains caught.
“Fire!” Lula yelled. “Fire! Fire! We’re gonna die. We’re gonna burn up like we was in hell.”
I ran to the kitchen, got the fire extinguisher from under the sink, and ran back to the dining room with it. By now, the fire had spread to the living room, and the couch was on fire. I shot some foam at the couch and the living room curtains, and then I turned tail and ran for the door. I grabbed my purse on the way out, relieved that Rex was at Rangeman.
Lula was already in the hall, along with Dillon Ruddick, the building super. Dillon had a fire hose working on my neighbor’s apartment. Mr. Macko was helping him. Lula a
nd I stumbled down the smoke-filled hall to the stairs.
“I don’t know if we should go out,” Lula said when we got to the ground floor. “What if they’re still there?”
Good point. I opened the door and peeked out into the small lobby. A bunch of tenants were milling around. Red and blue lights from cop cars and fire trucks flashed from the parking lot. A bunch of firemen in boots and gear entered the building and clomped past us, taking the stairs to the second floor. I looked out again and saw that the police were clearing the lobby.
“They’re going to make us leave the building,” I said to Lula.
“No way,” Lula said. “I’m here to stay. There’s crazy-ass Marco the Maniac out there.”
“I’m sure he’s gone by now. The parking lot is crawling with cops.”
