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Connie looked up from her computer. “And?”

“He wanted a date.”

“I’m havin’ heart palpitations,” Lula said. “That is one fine man. Fact is, that is the hottest man I ever saw. You did the nasty with him last night, right? I want to know everything.”

“I didn’t do anything with him. He wanted a date for tonight.”

“Holy crap,” Lula said.

“And?” Connie said.

“And I had a restless night thinking about it,” I told them.

“I bet,” Lula said. “If it was me I would have been burning out the motor on my intimate appliances.”

I checked out the box of donuts on Connie’s desk and chose a maple glazed. “Last time I agreed to be Ranger’s date his friend blew himself up in my apartment.”

“Yeah, but Ranger brought in a cleaning crew to get the brains and guts off the walls,” Lula said. “That was real thoughtful.”

“What’s new?” I asked Connie. “Anything good come in for me?”

I don’t get paid a salary. I make my money by retrieving felons for Vinnie. When someone is accused of a crime they can sit in jail until trial or they can give the court a bucketload of money as a guarantee they’ll return. If they don’t have the money, they go to my cousin and he puts up a bond for a fee. If the bondee doesn’t show for court, the court keeps Vinnie’s money. This doesn’t make Vinnie happy, so he sends me out to find the guy and drag him back to jail. Then I get a percentage of the money Vinnie gets back from the court.

“Nothing interesting,” Connie said. “Just a couple low money bonds. Ziggy Radiewski didn’t show up for court, and Mary Treetrunk didn’t show up for court.”

“What’d Ziggy do this time?” Lula asked.

“He relieved himself on Mrs. Bilson’s dog,” Connie said. “And then he mooned Mrs. Bilson. He said it was accidental, and he was a victim of temporary insanity due to alcohol poisoning.”

“He probably got that right,” Lula said.

“I don’t care about any of those,” Vinnie yelled from his inner office. “Why haven’t you grabbed Uncle Sunny? He’s a big bond. He killed a guy, for crissake. What the hell are you waiting for? Put the freakin’ donut down and go to work. You think I pay you to sit around eating donuts?”

“You keep talking like that and I’m gonna come in your office and sit on you and squish you into nothing but a ugly grease spot,” Lula said.

The door to Vinnie’s office slammed closed and the bolt thunked into place.

“He’s not having a good morning,” Connie said. “We’re running in the red, and Harry is unhappy.”

Harry the Hammer owns the bonds office. He also happens to be Vinnie’s father-in-law. Legend has it Harry got his name when he was a mob enforcer and persuaded customers to meet their financial obligations on time by hammering nails into their various body parts. I assume this was back in the days before pneumatic nail guns became the tool of choice for carpenters and wis

eguys.

I took the two new files from Connie and stuffed them into my messenger bag.

“We did a four-hour stakeout on Uncle Sunny last night,” I said to Connie. “The only thing that came of it was a new handbag for Lula.”

“Jimmy Spit was selling Brahmins and he gave me a good price,” Lula said to Connie. “I always wanted a Brahmin, and this is from their new designer Atelier line. This here’s a pricey handbag.”

Lula hung the handbag from her shoulder and modeled it for Connie.

“I’ve never seen a Brahmin bag with rhinestones,” Connie said.

“That’s on account of these are crystals and they’re going in a new direction,” Lula said. “You can tell it’s a Brahmin by the little silver nameplate on it says ‘Brahmin.’ ”

Connie looked at the nameplate. “It doesn’t say ‘Brahmin.’ It says ‘Brakmin.’ ”

“Hunh,” Lula said, glancing down at the bag. “Must be a misspelling. Things like that happen, and it don’t matter anyways, because it’s a excellent bag, and it goes with my shoes.”

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