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“What did your mystery boss want to talk to me about?”
“I don’t know. I just ride around with Lou. We go for coffee, and we snatch people sometimes.”
“Bob is getting impatient,” I said. “I need to move on.”
“Sure,” he said. “Have a real nice day.”
Bob and I walked to the corner, and a Rangeman SUV pulled up.
“Everything’s okay,” I told them.
“Ranger would like us to escort you home. Would you like to ride, or would you rather walk?”
“We’ll take the ride,” I said. “Bob has already pooped. We have nothing important left to do.”
CHAPTER FOUR
RANGEMAN DROPPED ME at Morelli’s house and waited until I was safely inside. I closed and locked the door and looked out the window. They were still at the curb.
“Whatever,” I said to Bob.
I poured his dinner kibble into his bowl, gave him fresh water and a hug, and told him Morelli would be home soon. Maybe. I left the house, got into my borrowed Buick, and chugged away. The Rangeman SUV followed me. Okay by me. As far as I was concerned, they could follow me for the rest of my life. Or at least until my life improved.
I parked in my apartment building lot, gave the Rangeman SUV a friendly wave, and took the stairs to my apartment. Rex was asleep in his soup can when I walked into the kitchen. I tapped on his cage and some hamster bedding moved, but Rex stayed snug in his nest. I lifted the lid on my brown bear cookie jar, looked in at my gun, and thought maybe I should put bullets in it. Just in case. I searched my junk drawer. No bullets. I could go out to buy bullets, but I wasn’t sure where one went to do this. Dick’s Sporting Goods, maybe. Dick’s had everything. I went to the window. The Rangeman SUV was still there. They’d follow me to Dick’s. And then they might follow me inside and see me wandering around, trying to figure out where to buy bullets. It would be embarrassing. I’d look like a moron.
I put the lid back on the cookie jar. At this time of the day the traffic would be horrible getting to Dick’s. And did I really want to shoot someone? No. So, what was the point in getting bullets? If I felt like I needed bullets tomorrow, I’d have Lula get some for me. They sold ammo at her hair salon.
* * *
—
Bingo doesn’t start until seven o’clock, but Grandma likes to get there ear
ly so she can get her lucky seat. I rolled to a stop in front of my parents’ house at six-thirty and Grandma was waiting on the porch. She had her big patent leather purse hung in the crook of her arm. This meant she was carrying. It was the only purse that could accommodate her .45 long-barrel.
“How’d you get out of the house with that purse?” I asked her when she climbed in.
“I waited until your mother went to the bathroom and then I sneaked out.”
A glass repair truck was parked in the driveway, and two men were on the porch fixing the broken window.
“Fast service,” I said.
“The guy with the ball cap is in the same lodge as your father. They stick together.”
Five minutes later I pulled up to the fire station.
“Evelyn isn’t going to be here tonight,” Grandma said, “so there’ll be an extra seat next to me if you want to play. It’s going to be a good night. Marvina is calling, and they got a grand prize donated by Dittman’s Meat Market.”
I imagined my mother whispering in my ear. “Do not leave your grandmother’s side. I’m holding you responsible. Do not let her break any more fingers or shoot anyone.”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll play. Hold the seat for me while I park the car.”
I dropped Grandma off and circled around to the lot behind the firehouse. Rangeman followed. I parked and walked up to their SUV.
“I’m going to be a couple hours,” I told them. “I’m making sure Grandma doesn’t shoot anyone at bingo.”
There was a moment of silence while they digested this.
