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“Yeah,” Connie said. “You.”
“Why me?”
“It’s your job. I’m the office person, and you’re the sneaking around, chasing down bad guys person.”
“What about Lula? Why can’t Lula be the sneaking around person?”
“Yeah,” Lula said, “what about me? I could sneak your ass off.”
“So let me get this straight,” Connie said to Lula. “You’re the one wants to get thrown under the bus.”
“Since you put it that way, it occurs to me Stephanie has the skill sets needed for this operation,” Lula said.
I did an eye roll that no one could see, because it was too friggin’ dark. I set the box of stink bombs on the ground, laid my purse on it, and I jogged across the lawn to the house. I pushed my way into some big azalea bushes and stood on tiptoe to look in the window. A fifty-something guy was sitting on the couch watching television. He was in his socks, kicked back, with a bag of chips and a beer on the coffee table in front of him. A second guy was slouched in a La-Z-Boy type chair.
I struggled to get out of the azaleas, and I moved around the house, peeking in windows, listening for conversation. I got to the kitchen, and there was a tray on the kitchen counter with some dirty dishes and a can of Coke tipped on its side. There were also a couple dishes, some silverware, and two glasses on the counter by the sink. It could be that someone was served on a tray and two people ate in the kitchen. Not conclusive proof Vinnie was being held in the house, but it was worth considering.
I jogged back to the woods and told Connie and Lula what I’d found.
“I say we rocket a bomb in there and see what comes out,” Lula said.
“Suppose only the guys watching television come out?” I said. “Is someone going in to make sure Vinnie isn’t there?”
“That would be you again,” Lula said, “since you’re so good at finding people.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No, no, no. I already did my thing. Someone else’s turn. I’m not going into a house that smells like cat pee and diarrhea fart.”
“I’d be happy to do it, but I got asthma,” Lula said. “I might have an attack in there. It could kill me.”
We were standing at the edge of the woods arguing, and headlights appeared on the dirt road. The car was traveling at a good speed, coming in from Lower Buck’s Road, almost on top of us before we saw it. We dove for cover, flat on our stomachs, hidden in shadow. The car roared into the circular driveway, stopped in front of the brown-shingle house, and Bang—fired off an object that broke the foyer window. Bang—another shot fired at an upstairs window, and the car spun its wheels and careened out of the driveway, back toward the road. It was a dark-colored SUV. I couldn’t see the plate or the make. We got to our feet and stood in shock for a moment.
“What the heck was that about?” Lula wanted to know.
In a moment, we knew what it was about, because the inside of the house was engulfed in flames, and smoke billowed out the broken foyer window.
“Fire bomb,” Connie said.
We ran to the house to make sure everyone got out, and just as we reached the house, three men ran from the opposite side, jumped into the SUV, and took off. Hard to tell in the dark if one of them was Vinnie, it all happened so fast. There was a small explosion from somewhere inside, windows blew out, and flames shot out the windows and licked up the side of the house.
“We need to get out of here,” Connie said. “We need to get to the car before the police and the fire trucks show up. The police will wonder why a car’s parked there.”
I grabbed my purse and the box of stink bombs, and we hustled down the road, with Lula in the lead holding her flashlight.
“Boy, Bobby Sunflower is a really unpopular person,” Lula said. “You gotta get in line to bomb his house.”
We were walking fast. I was sweating holding the box of stink bombs, and I could hear Lula breathing hard in front of me. We were almost to Lower Buck’s Road when we heard the sirens.
“Crap,” Connie said. “How did they get here so fast?”
I hiked my bag farther up on my shoulder. “I’m sure the house had a security system, and fire always goes directly to police and the fire department.”
A police car was the first on the scene. It turned onto the dirt road, and we jumped into the woods. A second car was close behind, but it stopped on Lower Buck’s Road, behind Connie’s SUV.
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“I’m screwed,” Connie said.
The cop sat in his car for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, the driver’s door opened, and the cop got out and walked to Connie’s car. A beam of light swept over the SUV. We held our breath and didn’t move. A fire truck chugged past and turned onto the dirt road. It was followed by an EMT truck. The cop returned to his car, pulled onto the road, and turned into the dirt road.
