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“I guess you might say I killed him. He was sort of in the throes of passion when he keeled over.”

I gave a gurgle of laughter, more out of horror than humor. “Did you dial 911?”

“Not yet. I was waiting for him to get normal, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“Normal?”

“Yeah, let’s just say he was stiff way before rigor mortis set in.”

“Are you sure he’s… you know?”

“Got a boner?”

“No! Dead.”

“Yep. He’s dead all right.”

“Don’t move. I’ll be right there.”

“Grandma’s fine,” I said to my mother on my way through the dining room. “I’m going to pick her up.”

“Take your father,” my mother said.

“Not necessary. He hasn’t finished eating.”

My father picked his head up. “What? Did I miss something?”

I grabbed my messenger bag and ran out to the new loaner SUV that was parked at the curb.

I called Lula from the road. “I found Sunny,” I said. “He’s on Sixteenth Street. I might need help. Are you home?”

“Yeah. You want me to meet you?”

“I’ll pick you up on my way across town.”

Once a felon dies and is in the hands of the coroner, the paperwork is staggering, and it takes forever to get the bail bond released. If I could manage to get Sunny to the police station, claiming he died on the way, the whole process would be simplified.

Lula was waiting for me in front of her apartment house. “I see you got a new car,” she said, buckling herself in. “It looks like another Rangeman car. You ever wonder where all these new cars come from?”

“I try not to think about it.”

“How’d you come to find Uncle Sunny?”

“Grandma found him. And that’s another thing I don’t want to think about.”

I parked in front of the wine shop, and Lula and I took the stairs to the second floor. Grandma had the door open when we reached the landing.

“I was looking out the window, and I saw you park,” she said. “Snazzy new car. I bet it belongs to Ranger.”

We stepped into the apartment and closed and locked the door behind us. Sunny was stretched out on the floor, covered by a white sheet.

“Is that what I think it is sticking up like a tent pole?” Lula asked.

“It won’t go down,” Grandma said. “I even tried bending it. I was gonna try smashing it with a fry pan, but it seemed disrespectful of the dead.”

“Yeah, the dead don’t like that,” Lula said. “How’d he get in this condition?”

“Well, we started out at the movies,” Grandma said, “and then we came here to his bachelor pad for some action.”

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