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Got tired of sitting here so I took the last two pieces of pizza to Buster. Maybe I can get him to adopt a dog. Bring the dogs up when you get back.
Crap.
I looked up at Buster’s windows and called Lula. No answer. I didn’t trust Buster, and I had no idea what was going on with the hoodie guy. He didn’t look any different from the rest of the men on the street, but truth is, those guys were sort of scary-looking.
I crossed the street and pushed the intercom buzzer. No answer. I pushed it again.
“Yes,” someone said. Not Buster.
“Is Buster there?”
“No. Come back later.”
The intercom went dead.
I leaned on the button.
“What?”
“Is Lula there?” I asked.
“Who?”
“Lula.”
There was some static and muffled talking. And the door buzzed open. I stepped inside, took Morelli’s gun out of my messenger bag, and crept up the stairs, feeling like an idiot. I had eight Chihuahuas and a gun in my hand. Could it get any more ridiculous?
I stopped at the head of the stairs and listened. Dead silence. I stepped into the apartment and my heart flipped. Buster was sitting on a chair from the dining table with his arms handcuffed behind his back. Lula was out cold on the floor, twitching. The hoodie guy had a gun trained on me.
“What’s going on?” I said, trying hard to control my voice so I didn’t sound like Minnie Mouse.
“Put the gun down,” the hoodie guy said.
“Nope.”
“I’ll shoot you.”
“Maybe I’ll shoot you first,” I said. “Who are you anyway?”
“Miguel.”
“What happened to Lula?”
“Stun gun,” Miguel said. “I think she knocked herself out when she went down. She got no muscle coordination. What’s with the dogs?”
“We thought Buster might want to adopt one.”
“Buster’s not going to be in shape to take care of a dog. You don’t pay up to your creditors, you die. That’s our message. We give him girls and drugs, and we expect payment. That’s fair, right?”
The Chihuahuas were in a pack, pressed against my ankles, shaking bad enough for their eyes to pop out of their heads and roll across the floor.
“Yeah,” I said, “that’s fair, but he can’t pay you if he’s dead.”
“Our accountant writes it off as a bad debt and we move on,” Miguel said. “You can only spend so much time on these losers. Time is money.”
“Okay,” I said. “So how about if I drag Lula out of here and let you get on with your business transaction.”
“No can do that. It wouldn’t be good for my health to leave witnesses like this. I’m going to have to kill all of you. Good thing I got a lot of bullets.”
