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I missed the Boston Kreme donut by five minutes. Lula was enjoying it when I walked into the office. Just as well, I thought. It wouldn’t hurt to clean up my act with diet as well as everything else. All part of the new Stephanie. The new Stephanie is adventuresome, with metallic extensions in her hair. The new Stephanie doesn’t pay attention to body shaming because she has dainty breasts. And now the new Stephanie is going to be a model of good health.
“There’s a chocolate frosted in there if you want it,” Lula said. “It’s not a Boston Kreme but it’s got sprinkles on it. You don’t often see that on a chocolate frosted donut.”
I took the donut and ate it. Slight setback for the new Stephanie.
“I have a guy I’d like you to run through the system for me,” I said to Connie. “Sylvester Lucca. He belongs to the feet in the red Air Jordans.”
“And you’re looking to connect him to someone associated with Jimmy,” Connie said. “You want to know who hired him.”
“Yes.”
“I got my day planned out,” Lula said. “I’m going to find that snot-nosed Carol Joyce. Just because he made fools out of us two times, I bet he thinks he can always make fools out of us.”
“Always is a long time,” I said.
Lula took another donut. “You bet your ass.”
I checked the time. “It’s too early for shoplifting. We can make a run past his house to see if he’s home. I’ll drive. Ranger took pity on me and gave me a loaner.”
“I’m all about it,” Lula said.
We left the office and went to the Macan.
“This here’s some good wheels,” Lula said, sliding onto the passenger seat. “You have to do anything special to get this?”
“No. Everyone felt I needed a safer car that was easier for me to steer with my bad arm.”
“Too bad. I wouldn’t mind doing something special for Ranger. He wouldn’t even have to give me a car.”
I bypassed the center of town and took Liberty to Cherry Street. Mrs. Joyce was in front of her house with a fat Chihuahua that was all hunched over.
“That don’t look good at all,” Lula said. “They need to give that dog some prunes.”
“The Escalade isn’t in the driveway,” I said, pulling to the curb.
Lula rolled her window down. “Hey, Mrs. J.,” she said. “Where’s your boy, Carol?”
“He’s at his office,” Mrs. Joyce said. “Are you still looking for him?”
“Yep,” Lula said. “We just haven’t had any luck catching him. Where’s his office at?”
“I don’t know exactly. I’ve never been there. I know it’s by the outlet mall, because he’s always saying how convenient it is when he wants to be thrifty.”
“I bet,” Lula said. “Is it in an office building?”
“No. Carol doesn’t like those high-rises where he has to cart everything up in the elevator. His office is in one of those strips of offices. More like little garden apartments. I saw a picture of it once. All the units were painted a salmon color.” She looked down at the dog. He was slowly turning in circles, still hunched over. “Go poopoo,” she said. “Make a poopoo for Mommy.”
“Okay, we gotta go now,” Lula said. “Good luck with the dog. I had an uncle who looked like that once. He had to get an enema, and then he about exploded. You might want to stand back a little, just in case.”
I drove to the end of the street and got a bird’s-eye view of the outlet mall up on my cellphone. I moved around the area until I found something that looked like strips of offices.
“I know where that is,” Lula said. “It’s a mix of self-storage units and office units. I was at a studio there a couple times during my short but highly acclaimed adult film career.”
“It looks like it’s off Rosewood.”
“Yep. There’s a whole complex between Rosewood and the highway. Must be a hundred of these little units that people use for all kinds of things.”
