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“They got good shopping at a flea market there,” Lula said. “I wouldn’t mind going with you.”
“I wasn’t planning on shopping.”
“Yeah, but you never know when the urge might hit you,” Lula said. “They got a kick-ass rib place there, too.”
TWENTY-THREE
I DITCHED LANCER AND SLASHER in midtown Trenton, and got onto Broad. We picked Route 295 up in Whitehorse and went south.
“I’m feeling like those guys aren’t trying real hard to tail you,” Lula said. “Seems to me they don’t got a lot of motivation.”
“They’re security guards who got promoted beyond their level of incompetence.”
“Why are we going to look at this warehouse?”
“Lancer and Slasher are employed by a guy named Chester Billings. Billings owns a gourmet food-distribution company, and his warehouse is in Bordentown. Turns out Brenda Schwartz is his sister.”
“Hunh,” Lula said. “What’s all that mean?”
“Haven’t a clue.”
“So we’re goin’ pokin’ around his warehouse?”
“Not so much poking around as riding by. I’d like to get a sense of the operation.”
The Billings warehouse and office were in a light industrial park. I found the service road and wound my way through the complex, finally coming to Billings Gourmet Food at the end of a cul-de-sac. The buildings were relatively new. Grounds were minimally landscaped but neat. The office was attached to the warehouse. Maybe two thousand square feet for the office. A lot more for the warehouse. Large parking lot. I drove around back to see the loading docks. Two loading docks and two roll-up garage doors. Woods behind. I thought about the charge of receiving stolen goods. He had the perfect setup.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ve seen enough.”
Lula looked at me. “That’s it?”
“Yep.”
“We rode all the way down here to do this? You don’t want to go in or nothin’?”
“Nope.”
What would I say to big bad Chester Billings? I haven’t got the photograph, but I’m pretty sure the guy looked like either Tom Cruise or Ashton Kutcher. And I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone. I couldn’t see Chester Billings having a sense of humor about that message.
“I got the ribs place programmed into my phone,” Lula said. “Just in case you’re interested.”
• • •
Ninety minutes and ten pounds later, we were back on the road.
“That was excellent,” Lula said. “Nothing like lunching on ribs and fries and all that other shit to make me feel like a new woman.”
I’d had absolutely no self-control. I’d eaten everything that was put in front of me, with the exception of the napkin, and I felt like two new women.
“What wild-goose chase we going on next?” Lula asked.
“I want to break into Brenda’s house.”
“Now you’re talking! WHAM. What about the nosy neighborhood, and the fact it’s daylight?”
“We’ll be in disguise.”
“A covert operation,” Lula said. “I like it.”
