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I crossed the railroad tracks, drove past the train station, and turned left onto Grimly. A plus-sized hooker wearing pink sweats and black patent leather platform stilettos was standing on the corner.
“Do you know her?” I asked Lula.
“No,” Lula said. “I never got in with the train station girls.”
I pulled over and lowered my window. Pink Sweatsuit walked over and looked in at Lula and me.
“I don’t usually do girls,” Sweatsuit said. “They take too long. I make exceptions if you want to pay by the hour or go electric.”
I waved a twenty at her. “I’m looking for a friend. Maybe you’ve seen him.” I replaced the twenty with Shine’s photo.
“Nope. Never seen him,” she said. “Not for a twenty anyways.” She looked into the backseat. “Is that Georgy Potts back there? Hey, Georgy, how’s it going?”
Potts looked at me and I pretended to unzip my lips.
“Hey, Leticia,” Potts said.
“All the girls been missing you, honey. Where you been? How’s your asthma?” Leticia turned her attention to me. “He has PTSD. I hope you’re taking good care of him.”
“The best,” I said. “He’s special.”
“You bet your ass he’s special,” Leticia said.
Potts leaned forward. “So, have you seen this guy? We’d really like to get in touch with him.”
“Sure, just for you, Sweetums. He’s got a thing for Patches. She’s good with the older folks. She usually hung on the corner here with Jody and me, but I haven’t seen her in a while. You might try Lizzy on Stark. Lizzy and Patches were tight.”
“Thanks,” Potts said. “You’re the best.”
“Don’t be a stranger,” Leticia said, taking my twenty, stuffing it into her pocket.
“That girl has no curbside manners,” Lula said when I drove away. “I would never have approached a prospective client like that.”
“She’s nice when you get to know her,” Potts said. “She has a cat named Kiki.”
Lula turned in her seat and looked at Potts. “Are you a regular or something?”
“No,” Potts said. “I mostly only have sex with myself. Before the bakery pooping incident, I had a job delivering pizza and the ladies were big pizza eaters. Sometimes I would run errands for them when they had an emergency or a special request… like chocolate syrup or a package of frozen hot dogs. That was a tough one because hot dogs aren’t usually frozen. And once Samantha forgot her paddle and I had to buy her a spatula at the grocery store.”
“That Samantha is a trip,” Lula said. “She’s been around for a long time. That’s on account of she’s a specialist. Specialists like her got a longer shelf life than an ordinary service provider.”
“Do you know Patches?” I asked Potts.
“No, but I know Lizzy. She used to work the train station.”
“Do you know Lizzy’s corner on Stark?”
“No,” he said. “I would never deliver on Stark Street. It’s too scary. I went there once, and I accidentally ran over a big rat. It was so big I thought it was a cat, so I got out to see if I could help. And while I was looking at the squished rat, someone stole my car.”
“Yeah, you gotta give it to the Stark Street boys,” Lula said. “They’re fast. Did you get your car back?”
“No. The police said it probably got taken apart right away.”
Lula added, “There’s good money to be made on auto body parts.”
I drove through town and turned onto Stark Street. The first two blocks of Stark are okay, with small businesses on the ground floor and apartments above them. After that it deteriorates.
“I’m not comfortable,” Potts said. “I’m feeling anxious. I might have a panic attack coming on.”
