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“I got a theory,” Lula said. “They haven’t found any of his parts, right?”
“Right.”
“I think that’s because they turned him into a zombie, and he’s hanging with the rest of them. You find the zombie pack, and you’ll find Slick.”
“That’s a disturbing thought.”
“You bet your ass. And it’s a problem on account of zombies don’t like a lot of light so they skulk around in the shadows during the day. They could be holed up inside somewhere with the shades pulled down. And they could be watching MTV.”
“Or they could have found a nice, dark building where Slick would be able to cook more meth.”
“Exactly. Imagine a zombie on meth! That’s epic crazy.”
“I wasn’t serious,” I said.
“I get it. That was sarcasm. In my opinion that’s not a healthy form of expression. It’s filled with negativity. And anyways, I was serious. Something got Slick, and it makes sense it was the zombies.”
“Assuming it was zombies, where would we find them?”
“Ordinarily I’d think to look in the cemetery, but they might have temporarily vacated it with all the cops roaming around.”
“Any other ideas?”
/> “Diggery’s woods. It’s the perfect place for a bunch of zombies. And already we know they go there sometimes.”
“Okay, do you want to go zombie hunting with me in Diggery’s woods?”
“No. No way. No how. I don’t think so. Not gonna happen. Also, I usually only work half a day on Saturday, and I’m past the halfway mark. I got an appointment to get my nails done this afternoon.”
“No problem. Drop me at my car, and I’ll see if I can talk Morelli into going with me.”
“How about if I drop you at Morelli’s house, and you’ll be one step ahead of the game?”
“That won’t work. I need my car so I can feed Ethel.”
“About your car . . .” Lula said. “You know how it’s such a nice sunny day?”
“Yeah.”
“And you know how exceptionally warm it’s got?”
“Yeah.”
“And you know how a locked-up car can get overly hot inside when it’s parked in the sun? Well, your car got parked in the sun, and the groundhog exploded.”
“What?”
“Exploded. At least that’s what we think happened. Hard to tell from what’s left. Looked to Connie and me that you don’t leave a dead groundhog in a hot car. Who would have thought?”
“Is it bad?”
“It isn’t good,” Lula said. “There’s putrefied groundhog guts and gravy all over the place. I wouldn’t want to be the one to detail it.”
Lula eased to the curb behind my car, staying a good distance away.
“I need to park back here so I don’t contaminate my baby with groundhog stink,” she said.
“There are turkey vultures sitting on it.”
