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“I have three jars of liquid stink,” Connie told Lula. “You’re going to have to dump them at strategic locations, and then get out before you throw up.”
“Sure. I could do that,” Lula said.
“You’re going to need to sneak upstairs and dump a jar in front of the counting room,” Connie said. “Then dump another at the back door and another in the front of the funeral home. Try not to get it on top of the deceased. I have the rocket launcher as backup, but it’s a last resort. We don’t want Sunflower to think he’s being attacked.”
The funeral home looked business-as-usual when Connie rolled by. A few men in dark suits stood to the side of the front door. They were smoking and quietly talking. Several cars were parked at the curb. We dropped Lula off at the corner, and I handed her the small tote bag with the three jars.
“Good
luck,” I said. “I’ll be waiting at the back door for you.”
Lula walked down the sidewalk, and Connie turned into the alley and parked behind the mortuary’s Dumpster. Sunflower’s Ferrari was parked in the small lot, and a Dodge Minivan was parked next to the Ferrari. I took the large tote bag containing a respirator mask, and I walked to the back door and stood to one side. I had some butterflies in my stomach, but I was focusing now. Get the job done, I thought. Steal the money. Give it back. Save Vinnie’s miserable butt. Do some food shopping. I was making a list. Milk, bread, orange juice, beer, an apple for Rex, toilet paper, bullets.
The back door to the funeral home creaked open and Lula looked out at me. “Show time,” she said. “Looks to me like the best place to hide is the cellar. You could stand on the stairs. Just make sure you put the mask on, ’cause I’m gonna dump stink there.”
Lula stood in the middle of the hall, shielding me from sight, and I scooted through the cellar door and held tight two steps down. Lula closed the door, and I was in total blackness.
Good thing I’m not claustrophobic, I thought. Or afraid of the dark. Okay, maybe I was a little claustrophobic and afraid of the dark, but I could deal. That’s what separates the men from the girls, right? The girls can deal.
I heard muffled conversation through the door. It was flowing down the hall from the public viewing room. I put the mask on and adjusted the straps. Hard to believe I would need a mask for a stink bomb. I mean, how bad could it be? I had my cell phone in hand, waiting for Connie’s call. I checked the time by the phone. It was going on five minutes. Conversation turned loud, and people were in the hall, jostling against the cellar door, gagging and shrieking, trying to get out the back door as fast as possible. A few more minutes passed and my phone buzzed with a text message from Connie.
GO!
I opened the cellar door to an empty hall. Don’t fail me now, I said to my feet, and I ran the short distance to the stairs and took them two at a time. I ran into the counting room and almost fainted. The table was filled with money. It was all bundled in stacks and secured with rubber bands. More money than I’d ever seen. The tote bag was huge, but it couldn’t hold all of the money. A large duffel bag had been tossed to the floor not far from the table. I stuffed it full of the remaining bundles and still had a couple left. I stuffed them into my bra and my pants, and I hurled myself down the stairs, hanging on to the tote and the duffel. I raced down the short hall and slid to a stop at the door. I said a short prayer, opened the door, and found Connie standing there, wearing a mask.
Connie grabbed my arm and yanked me forward. “Run,” she said. “There’s a fire truck out front and another at the corner. And some Sunflower goon just arrived in a full contamination suit.”
Lula was in the car with the motor running. We dove in, and Lula took off.
EIGHTEEN
I RIPPED THE mask off my face and took a deep breath. “Whoa,” I said. “What the heck is that smell?”
“It’s you,” Connie said. “You’ve absorbed stink.”
“It’s horrible! I smell like vomit and really bad cheese.”
“Yeah,” Connie said. “This was a good batch.”
Lula rolled the windows down. “My eyes are watering. I’m losing my appetite for chicken. Are both those bags full of money?”
“Yep.” I took money out of my pants and my bra and handed it over to Connie. “I have no idea how much money is here. I didn’t take the time to look. I just stuffed everything in the bags and ran. I got there at a good time. The safe was open but empty. They were either getting ready to put the money away or move it.”
“I can’t believe we did this,” Lula said. “This was totally the shit. This was the bomb. And it don’t even look like we’re being followed.”
Connie and I turned and looked to make sure.
“I think we pulled it off,” Connie said.
And she giggled. And then Lula and I giggled. This was pretty weird, because we’re not necessarily gigglers, but men spit and scratch their nuts and do high-five hand slaps when they get away with stupid shit . . . and women giggle. I’m not sure which is worse, but I’m glad I’m not inclined to scratch myself in private places in public.
“We’re good,” Lula said. “How many bitches could steal all this money and not get caught? I’m telling you, I’m talking about a new career. We could be the Three Mouseketeers.”
“I think you mean Musketeers,” I said to Lula.
“Whatever. We could give ourselves a cool name, and we could do heists and capers. Only thing is, next time we gotta call a cab for Stephanie, so she doesn’t smell up the car. I’m glad we’re not in my Firebird.”
“I can’t help it,” I said. “I was stuck in the building. For that matter, you don’t smell like roses, either.”
