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“That’s insulting,” Lula said. “What does she look like, anyway? She’s a successful businesswoman. She don’t need your dumb-ass credit card. She got her own credit card. You need to learn some manners. Who the heck are you?”
“Sylvester Larder, also known as Sly Slasher,” I said.
He took his wallet from Lancer. “Everyone calls me Slasher.”
“Is that a work-related nickname?” Lula asked. “On account of you don’t look like a slasher. You look more like a insurance salesman. Or one of those guys who sets out the grapefruits in the supermarket.”
Lancer gave a bark of laughter.
“Real funny,” Slasher said. “Why don’t you ask her if you look like a Lancelot?”
I stood up from my seat. “Gotta go,” I said. “Sorry about your wallets and rearranging your neurons.”
“You better play ball with us before we have to get rough,” Lancer said. “We need results. Our boss doesn’t like being disappointed.”
• • •
Lula and I left the coffee shop, piled into the Buick, and headed for Buggy’s house.
“They could be in big trouble if their boss doesn’t like being disappointed,” Lula said. “And I don’t think they believe you about not having that photograph. You really don’t have it, right?”
“Right.”
“How come everyone thinks you have it, if you don’t have it?”
“Because I used to have it.”
“Like you used to have a ring on your finger,” Lula said.
I felt my blood pressure edge up a notch. “Give it a rest, okay?”
“Hunh,” Lula said.
I turned onto Pulling Street and saw my RAV4 at the curb in front of Buggy’s house.
“I guess he borrowed your car,” Lula said.
“Something like that.”
“We gonna do our bounty hunter thing on him?”
“Yeah. I’ll use my stun gun, we’ll cuff him when he goes down, and we’ll drag him into the Buick. It has a bigger backseat.”
“Let’s do it. I’m there,” Lula said. “If you notice, I’m wearing black again today. I’m in the Ranger zone. WHAM!”
I was glad Lula had such a positive attitude, because I was experiencing some self-doubt. And I appreciated that Lula was in the zone, although I suspected her outfit was from her S&M ’ho collection, since she was wearing over-the-knee black leather boots with four-inch heels, a black leather miniskirt, and a skintight black leather bustier.
I parked, and Lula and I went to the door. I had the Flexi-Cuffs ready, and I was holding the stun gun.
“You distract him,” I said to Lula. “When he looks over at you, I’ll stun him.”
“Sure,” Lula said. “I’ll distract the hell out of him.”
I rang the bell and Buggy answered.
“Howdy,” he said, opening the door, looking out at me. “What’s up?”
“I came to get my car.”
