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We got Hooker and Rosa off the Dumpster and back into the Mini.
“There’s two more warehouses,” Felicia said. “One down the street and one on the next block.”
We drove to both warehouses and found the garage doors open on both of them. Rosa volunteered to go in and look around while she asked directions. “We’re lost,” she’d say. “We’re looking for Flagler Terrace. And what do you guys do here, anyway? And do you have a ladies’ room?”
Both warehouses came up zero.
We checked out a parking lot, a Laundromat, several deli marts, and two more slum apartment buildings. We skipped Salzar’s house and his girlfriend’s condo.
“The only thing left is an office building on Calle Ocho,” Felicia said. “That is where Salzar has his offices.”
We all did a silent groan. None of us wanted to run into Salzar.
“He don’t know me,” Felicia said. “I’ll go in and ask around.”
“I’ll go with you,” Rosa said. “He don’t know me either.”
There was a small, unattended parking lot adjacent to the office building. The lot was full so Hooker pulled the Mini into the lot and idled in an exit lane while Rosa and Felicia went into
the building. Hooker and I sat in the car, facing Calle Ocho. We watched the rush hour traffic and we kept an eye on the building’s front door.
A black Lincoln Town Car dropped out of the traffic and parked at the curb. Puke Face exited the building and held the front door open. Salzar strode through the door, crossed the wide sidewalk, and paused at the Town Car. He turned and glanced at the lot where we were parked. His face showed no expression but his eyes locked onto the Mini.
Hooker did a little finger wave. “Hi,” Hooker said, smiling. “Nice to see you survived the fire.”
Salzar turned from us, disappeared into the backseat of the Town Car, and the car eased from the curb and rolled down the street.
I looked over at Hooker.
“What?” he said.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“He was looking at us. I was being friendly.”
“Give me a break. That was announcing your dick was bigger than his.”
“You’re right,” Hooker said. “He brings out the NASCAR in me.”
Hooker put the Mini into gear and drove out of the lot and circled the block. Rosa and Felicia were waiting for us when we returned.
“We didn’t find anything,” Rosa said. “But Salzar has a fancy ass office. We didn’t go in. We just looked through the big glass door.”
“I could smell brimstone,” Felicia said. “Good thing I’m wearing my cross.”
We took Felicia back to the fruit stand, and we dropped Rosa off at her apartment.
“Now what?” I asked Hooker.
“I don’t know. I’m a race car driver. I’m not a detective. I’m just stumbling along here.”
“What about Columbo, James Bond, Charlie’s Angels? What would they do?”
“I know what James Bond would do.”
“Forget James Bond. James Bond probably isn’t a great role model for you.”
“Okay, how about this. Let’s find a convenience store and get a load of junk and park and eat.”
