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“Did we put him in the trunk and I forgot?” Lula asked.
“He’s on foot, probably trying to get back to his car. Maybe we can catch him.”
Lula peeled out of the lot and drove the two blocks to Meat & Go. The black Lexus SUV was gone.
“Yeah, but you gotta look on the bright side,” Lula said. “We won the lottery.”
I took a package of Hostess Snowballs out of the plastic bag and stuffed one into my mouth.
“See if you can find him,” I said to Lula.
We cruised the other lunch locations, and Lula did a loop past Chopper’s apartment. No Lexus SUV parked there, either. He was most likely somewhere getting my cuffs removed.
“No disrespect intended. And I don’t mean to blaspheme your bottle. But I’m starting to think it sucks as a lucky bottle,” Lula said.
I was glad she felt that way, because between the bottle and my Smith & Wesson, my shoulder bag was giving me a neck cramp. I’d be more than happy to leave them home tomorrow.
Connie called on my cell phone. “I have some information on Butch Goodey,” she said.
I hoped the information was that he was seen boarding a plane for Antarctica. It wouldn’t bother me if I never saw Butch Goodey ever again. It was like trying to capture King Kong.
“I have a current address off his employment record, and I have siblings. You should have the siblings on his original bond document,” Connie said.
A current address. Crap. I hung up and slumped in my seat.
“What?” Lula wanted to know.
“Connie has a curren
t address for Butch.”
“Crap,” Lula said. “I’m not liking any of these people we gotta catch. They’re too big and sneaky. And no one wants to get caught. On the other hand, the big dummy knocked me over, and I got a smudge on my skirt. I’m gonna have to take it to the cleaners. He should pay for that.”
“He lives on Keene Street, in one of those little row houses.”
“I’m on it,” Lula said.
FIFTEEN
THE WHITE TAURUS was parked at the curb in front of Butch’s row house. Originally, these were company houses for a company that made porcelain pipe. They were single-story, twelve units hooked together, maroon asbestos shingle roof and siding. No yard. No porch, front or back. Street parking. A little bleak, but the plumbing worked in almost all of them.
“We need a plan,” Lula said. “I don’t want to get knocked on my ass again.”
“The stun gun doesn’t work on him, so I’ll ring the bell, and when he answers, I’ll give him a blast with pepper spray. We’ll both step back to let the spray settle, and then we’ll wrap the FlexiCuffs on him.”
“If I have to shoot him, I’ll shoot him in the foot,” Lula said.
“No shooting!”
“You always say that.”
“Shooting isn’t good. It hurts people. It could get you in jail.”
Lula had her lower lip stuck out. Eyes narrowed. “He made me smudge my skirt.”
“You don’t shoot someone over a smudged skirt.”
“I was only gonna shoot him in the foot.”
