AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“One of us gotta keep an eye on the prisoner,” Lula said to me. “Pick your poison.”
“Hey!” Briggs said. “Look at that guy who just got out of the black SUV and is going into Cluck-in-a-Bucket. That’s Jimmy Poletti. That’s the son of a bitch who blew up my apartment.” Briggs was out of his seat belt and out of the car. “You son of a bitch!” he yelled at Poletti.
Poletti turned, saw Briggs and company, and took off at a run.
Lula and I bolted out of the car and ran after Poletti, chasing him around the building and across the street. I was in sneakers and jeans, and Lula was in five-inch stiletto heels and a skirt that came just two inches below her ass. I was gaining on Poletti. Lula was pounding the pavement behind me. And Briggs was running third, yelling obscenities and threats at Poletti.
The black SUV careened around the corner and slid to a stop, Poletti jumped in, and the car sped away.
“Shit!” Briggs said. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!”
Lula tugged her skirt down. “That Poletti has no luck at all. He’s shot off two rockets so far, and neither of them’s put a dent in Mr. Short, Pale, and Creepy here. And not only that but he got no guts. He obviously don’t want to kill Briggs in front of witnesses. What’s with that?”
We walked back to Cluck-in-a-Bucket, got our order, and carried it to the Buick. No Stanley.
“Somebody stole Stanley,” Lula said.
“Yeah,” Briggs said. “There’s high demand for a fat guy wearing handcuffs and a hospital gown.?
?
I drove the route from Cluck-in-a-Bucket to Stanley’s parents’ house, but we didn’t see Stanley.
“Call me crazy,” I said, “but I don’t feel like putting any more effort into capturing Stanley today.”
“It’s no problem anyway,” Lula said. “I got a date with him for Sunday night. I’ll let you know when we get out of the movies, and you can come get him.”
TWELVE
I WAS AT the office, finishing my lunch, when Morelli texted to tell me I could return to my apartment. I left Briggs with Lula and Connie, trudged out to the Buick, and slowly drove down Hamilton. I drove slowly because I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to see the destruction. It was depressing. I’d done this drill too many times. I was tired of it. At least this time there would be no blood spatters, I told myself. That was good, right? And honestly, why was I so upset? It’s not like I was in love with the couch that got cooked. And it’s not like the rocket was personally directed at me. I was a victim, but I wasn’t the targeted victim. That would be Briggs.
Morelli was leaning against his car, waiting for me, when I pulled into the lot.
“You’re talking to yourself,” he said when I got out. “I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad sign.”
“I was trying to talk myself out of being morbidly depressed.”
“Did you succeed?”
My eyes filled with tears.
Morelli wrapped his arms around me and held me close. “It’s not so bad,” he said. “A coat of paint and it’ll be like new. And you never liked that couch anyway.”
“Yes, but the apartment was just painted after that guy blew himself up in my foyer. I liked the new color.”
Morelli took my hand and tugged me toward the building. “We’ll paint it the same color.”
We took the stairs to the second floor and ran into Dillan Ruddick, the building super. He had a wet vac going, sucking up water from the soggy hall carpet.
“Thanks for saving my apartment,” I said to him.
“No problemo,” Dillan said. “I’ve got it down to a science. The alarm goes off and I run straight to your apartment and grab the fire extinguishers.”
“Nice to know,” I said to Dillan. “I’m a disaster!” I whispered to Morelli.
“Yeah, you keep life interesting,” Morelli said, unlocking my apartment. “Be careful where you walk. The carpets are soaked. We’ll get a restoration team in here tomorrow. As you can see, most of the damage is confined to the living room.”
“There’s a hole in my wall! I can see daylight through it.”
