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Lula looked over at Sunny. “Do you think he’s the killer? It wouldn’t be much of a stretch for him, being that he probably kills people all the time business-wise.”
“Hard to believe,” Grandma said. “He’s so gallant. And look how cute he is in his red socks.”
The bachelor pad was a floor-through efficiency consisting of one large loft-type room and bath. Windows looked out at the street and also at the alley. A shadow passed by an alley-si
de window.
“It’s Kevin!” Lula said. “I bet he knows I’m here. I’ll be right back.”
And she ran out the rear door and down the rear stairs.
“Now what?” Grandma asked.
“Now we get Sunny to the car without her. I’m not waiting.”
“Are you going to put his shoes on him?”
Dead people aren’t on my favorite-things list. I could drag Sunny’s body down the stairs if I really had to, but putting shoes on him was at a whole other creep level.
“Do you think it’s necessary?” I asked Grandma.
“Maybe not. It’s not like we have to worry about his feet getting cold.”
The lock tumbled on the front door, the door opened, and Shorty and Moe stepped in.
“What the heck?” Moe said.
I was holding the Venetian blind cord in my hand, Sunny was looking a little droopy in the chair, and Grandma did a little finger wave to Moe.
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Moe said to me.
It was starting to fall into place. I had a bad feeling Moe and Shorty were here to pick up Grandma’s dead body and prepare it for a Dumpster burial.
“We were just leaving,” I told Moe. “Grandma needed a ride home.”
“Oh yeah? What have you got in your hand?”
I looked at the cord. “Sex toy?”
Moe slid a glance at Sunny. “What’s wrong with Sunny? He doesn’t look good.”
“He’s dead,” Grandma said.
Shorty took a closer look. “Hey!” he yelled at Sunny. No reaction. Shorty poked him. Still no reaction. “Yep, he’s dead all right,” Shorty said.
Moe was looking disgusted. “Perfect. We come to do a simple cleanup, and we end up with this.”
“Don’t let us stop you,” I said, grabbing Grandma’s hand, yanking her toward the front door. “We’ll be on our way.”
“You’ll be going nowhere,” Moe said, pointing his gun at me. “You know too much. You’ve been trouble from the start. Always sticking your nose in where it don’t belong. And nothing ever goes right with you. Everyone else dies when we drop them off the bridge, but not you. You have to have some hotshot Batman rescue you.”
“I might have made it on my own,” I said.
“You would have dropped like a rock to the bottom of the river without him,” Moe said.
“What are we going to do with Sunny?” Shorty asked.
“Sunny can wait,” Moe said. “We need to take care of these two first.”
