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Stretch picked up a garbage bag and flung it at the dumpster. It hit on the top corner and burst, spewing garbage onto the pavement. Two raccoons and a pack of rats as big as barn cats suddenly appeared and ransacked the mess. We all jumped back, and I closed and locked the back door.
“Okay then,” I said. “Everyone takes a bag of garbage home with them.”
“It might not make it all the way to my home,” Raymond said.
“As long as it’s not in the deli,” I told him. “Try to get it at least a block away.”
Lula and I set our bags of garbage in the trunk of my car, I locked the front door to the deli, and I drove Lula back to the bonds office to get her car. I made a brief stop at Giovichinni’s dumpster to deposit the garbage, and I noticed Hal was following me.
I dropped Lula off and texted Morelli, telling him I still had both of my shoes, and I was on my way home. Maybe we could get together tomorrow. He texted me back a thumbs-up.
Hal was still behind me when I parked in the lot attached to my apartment building. He got out of his SUV and walked me to my door. He waited until I was in and the lights were on and I told him everything was okay.
“Thanks for keeping me safe today,” I said.
“No problem,” he said. “I got pie.”
I waved him off and locked my door. I said hello to Rex and gave him a couple Froot Loops.
“The escort home was overkill,” I said to Rex. “You have nothing to worry about. We’re perfectly safe here.” Especially since there was probably a Rangeman guy sitting in a patrol car in my lot, taking over for Hal. Ranger could sometimes be obsessive.
CHAPTER NINE
LULA WAS AT the window when I got to the office. It was a little after nine A.M. and the single Boston Kreme donut was long gone.
“I see you’re being followed,” Lula said. “This is the second day in a row you’ve had a Rangeman escort.”
I blew out a sigh. “Ranger is in full-on protective mode.”
“It doesn’t look like Hal in the car.”
“Hal’s shift doesn’t start until the deli opens at ten.”
“What the heck is this thing going on between you and Ranger?” Lula asked. “He gives you cars and security escorts and you get to stay in his personal Batcave when you want. I know he likes you but dang, you must be really good at something we don’t know about.”
I thought it was just the opposite. I’m not really good at anything. I’m like an inept pet. Beloved but pretty much a disaster. And in spite of this, or maybe because of it, there’s a lot of festering sexual attraction. Mostly the attraction goes unfulfilled, which I suspect contributes to the intensity of the festering.
“Do you notice anything different about me?” Lula asked.
Connie looked over at her. “Is your hair a different color?”
Lula changed her hair so often it was hard to remember from one day to the next.
“It’s called Metallic Magenta,” Lula said. “And I had Shanika brush it out to full volume.”
I had to admit, the hair was spectacular. It looked like her head was a brilliant sunset that had exploded.
“I went to get it done first thing this morning so I’d be all set for going to the Snake Pit tonight,” Lula said. “I’m all about Rockin’ Armpits now that I’m a personal friend of the drummer, and the pizza guy, and what’s-his-name from the coffee shop.”
Crap! It was Thursday. Rockin’ Armpits was at the Snake Pit tonight. I blew out another sigh. The day was going so good until I remembered this. I’d slept in. I’d had a luxurious shower. I’d had a second cup of coffee with a strawberry Pop-Tart. The sun was shining.
Now I was back to bounty hunter reality. Thursday had arrived. I told myself that I should be happy. I needed the money, and this was my best shot at getting Victor Waggle. Problem was, I knew it was also an opportunity for epic failure. I would have to attempt a takedown at the Snake Pit. There would be a lot of people in a small space. Some of those people would be scary. Many of them would be armed. Most of them would be high. I would want to create the least possible disturbance. That meant I would need to make my capture before or after the performance. And that meant I needed to be familiar with the stage area.
At least I had Hal. He was big, and he knew his way around the Snake Pit, and he actually had some skills. Like he probably knew how to shoot his gun and sucker punch a guy in the throat. Me, not so much.
“Looks like it’s a good thing we’ve got the job at the deli,” Lula said to me. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have anything to do. You let Annie Gurky slip through your fingers, and you got Wayne Kulicki snatched. So now the only FTA we have left is Victor Waggle.”
“Do we have any new cases?” I asked Connie.
