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I finished my burger and shake, and I sat for a while, trying to look like I was waiting for someone. I got up and walked around a little. I bought a chocolate chip cookie. I sat at a different table. I did another tour of the food cour
t. I walked beyond the food court and looked around. No Chopper. I bought an ice cream cone, and I sat and ate it. Still no Chopper. By seven o’clock I’d had enough of the food court, so I went home and changed into black commando gear. Black jeans, black T-shirt, black sweatshirt.
Lula and Connie were already at the office when I pulled in. Connie was dressed just like me. Lula looked like an ad for S&M clothes for plus-size women. Black leather boots up to her thighs, black stretch skirt that hung two inches below her ass, black Spandex wrap shirt.
“I got my gun, my stun gun, my pepper spray, my flashlight,” Lula said. “And then I got my other gun and a bread knife.”
“I have an Uzi and the stink bombs,” Connie said.
They looked at me.
I had hairspray and a nail file, but it didn’t stack up next to guns and stink bombs. “I have the lucky bottle,” I told them.
“Now you’re talking,” Lula said.
Connie grabbed her purse, and we followed her out of the office.
“I’ve got my brother Tony’s car,” Connie said. “It’s a P.O.S. Explorer, and no one will pay any attention to it sitting on the side of the road.”
Lula got in front with Connie, and I got in back with the box of stink bombs. The adapted for stink bombs rocket launcher was behind me. It was deep dusk when we drove over the bridge to Pennsylvania, and by the time we reached the dirt road, it was black as pitch out. No moon. Overcast sky. Connie pulled off to the shoulder and parked on Lower Buck’s Road just before our turn-off. We all piled out and waited while Connie loaded the rocket launcher up with a stink bomb.
“It’s a big house,” Lula said. “How many of these bombs do you think we gotta fire off?”
“One will probably do it,” Connie said, slinging the Uzi strap over her shoulder. “But we could do an upstairs and a downstairs if we want to be sure of covering the whole house.”
“What’s it smell like?”
“The one I made today smells like a combination of cat pee and diarrhea fart,” Connie said, handing me the box with the extra bombs. “And maybe it has a hint of throw-up.”
We walked about twenty feet down the road and had no idea where we were.
“I don’t know if I’m in the middle of the road or the middle of the forest,” Lula said. “I can’t see nothin’. There’s no light here. There’s . . . whoops!”
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“No, I’m not okay. I’m on my ass, and I found the edge of the road on account of I’m in a bush. Where the heck are you?”
“Everyone stay still until our eyes adjust,” I said.
“How long’s that take?” Lula wanted to know.
“A couple minutes, I think,” I told her.
“It’s been a couple minutes,” Lula said, “and I’m not adjusted. I think that adjusting is a lot of hooey.”
“Give it a minute more,” I said.
We waited a minute more, but we still couldn’t see.
“I’ll show you adjusting,” Lula said. And she flipped her flashlight on.
So much for the stealth approach.
We followed Lula and her flashlight until we reached the grassy area around the house. Once we were out from under trees, we were at least able to differentiate structure from sky. Light blazed from several windows. A television flickered in a downstairs room. A figure moved from one room to the next. The SUV was still parked by the door.
“We need to get closer,” Connie said. “Someone should run across the lawn and look in the windows.”
“Someone?” I asked.
