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He nodded and shuffled around a little.
“There’s a parking place on the other side of the street,” Lula said. “Go around the block and come back the other way.”
I drove around the block and parked two doors down and across the street from Briggs. He was still clutching his cellphone, and he was pacing the length of Buster’s building. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“He don’t look natural,” Lula said. “Nobody’s gonna shoot him with him looking like that.”
“We don’t want him shot,” I said. “We just want to drag Poletti out into the open.”
“I guess that’s one way to go.”
A half hour later a black SUV cruised down the street and stopped in front of Briggs and the pizza place.
“I can’t see Briggs anymore,” Lula said. “That big-ass black car is in my way.”
“Give me your gun.”
“What?”
“Your gun!”
Lula stuck her hand into her purse and rooted around. “It’s in here somewhere.”
I was out of the Buick, running across the street, when the SUV took off. No Briggs on the sidewalk. I ran back to the Buick, jumped behind the wheel, and roared after the SUV.
“They’ve got him,” I said to Lula. “Have you found your gun yet?”
“I might have left it in my other purse. At the last minute I decided to wear these purple shoes, and you know how important it is to coordinate properly.”
I have two purses. One is a messenger bag I use every day. The other is a little evening bag I use three times a year. They’re both black.
The Buick has no pickup, but once it gets rolling it’s a tank. I was half a block behind the SUV when it stopped for a light. I rammed the Buick into the back of the SUV, bouncing it halfway into the intersection. One of the doors opened on the passenger side, and Briggs was tossed out. The light changed, and the crumpled SUV drove off.
Lula and I got out and picked Briggs up off the road.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
“No thanks to you. I just got kidnapped.”
“Was it Poletti?”
“No. It was two whacked-out guys who said they always wanted to kidnap a midget. I mean, what the heck is wrong with this world? What has it come to?”
“Did you explain to them you aren’t a midget no more?” Lula asked. “That you are a very short person now?”
“No. I punched one of them in the nuts, and he threw me out of the car. I thought you were supposed to be protecting me. Suppose that was Poletti?”
“Hey, she crashed into that car for you,” Lula said. “She didn’t even care about damaging her own personal property.”
We all looked at the Buick. Not a scratch on it. The Buick is invincible.
Cars were pulling around us, beeping their horns. Briggs was giving them the finger.
“We should get in the car,” Lula said. “Not a good idea for a little white man to be giving the finger to people in this neighborhood.”
I drove us the length of Stark and turned left at State Street. I cut through town and took a small detour to check out Ranger’s building. The street was still cordoned off and filled with emergency vehicles. My heart stuttered in my chest, and a chill ripped through me. I circled the block and continued on to the bail bonds office. I dropped Lula off and brought Briggs back to my apartment.
“I thought we were going to your parents’ house for dinner,” he said. “Why are we here?”
