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“So, it’s not a problem.”
“No, it’s not a problem. Put the sign in the window.”
The office was dark when I parked at the curb. Lula usually showed up halfway through the morning on Saturday. Vinnie showed up never. I unlocked the door, switched the lights on, and made coffee. I didn’t want to drink it. I wanted to smell it. It humanized the office. It made things feel a little more normal.
I got theI HAVE ITsign from the storeroom and taped it on the window. I texted Lula and told her to bring doughnuts. Doughnuts made everything better. I sat in Connie’s chair and opened her computer. I waded through the junk mail, the invoices, and the threatening letters to Vinnie. There were two new FTAs. Grand theft auto and armed robbery. Both carried a high bail bond. Ordinarily I’d have been all about them, but right now I just wanted a doughnut. Actually, I wanted a miracle. I wanted Connie to walk in and tell me that the kidnappers had decided the coin wasn’t worth the effort and they were getting on with their lives.
I printed the information on the two FTAs and shoved the papers into my messenger bag. I looked out the front window and saw Lula park the red Firebird behind my Honda. Seconds later she swung into the office and set the box of doughnuts on Connie’s desk.
“You’re early,” I said. “You usually sleep in on Saturday.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I kept wondering if you put the sign inthe window. And then when you texted about the doughnuts, I figured you were sitting here cracking your knuckles, waiting to get the phone call.”
I looked in the box. “You got an assortment. What happened to all the Boston creams?”
“I felt like we needed some color today. I got a pink glazed, one with rainbow sprinkles, a butterscotch, a couple chocolate, and some with powdered sugar.”
I chose the butterscotch. “I imagine Ranger is doing surveillance,” I said to Lula. “Did you notice any vans when you parked?”
“No, but I wasn’t looking for any either. I was keeping my eyes open for a drone.”
“They might not be using a drone after the shooting incident,” I said.
“Did you do the emails?” Lula asked.
“Yes. There was grand theft auto. Some guy borrowed a fire truck and drove it into Garden of Life Flowers on Comstock Street.”
“Good one,” Lula said.
“And an armed robbery.”
“Anybody we know?”
“Sylvester Brown. Held up a convenience store on Stark Street.”
Lula took another doughnut. “This is boring, sitting here waiting for some fool to call. It’s going on six days. It goes on this long and there’s things that come into consideration. Like, who’s doing Connie’s laundry? And what happens if it’s her time of the month? Some kidnapper’s gonna have to go out and get tampons and Midol.”
I looked around the office, wondering if Ranger was listening in and cracking up. You never knew where he had equipment.
The call came in at eleven o’clock.
“Talk to me,” the man said.
“What do you want to hear?” I asked him.
“I want to hear that you have the right coin.”
“I have the right coin. It has a small notch in the edge.”
“Text me a photo,” he said.
He gave me a cell number and hung up.
I took a photo of both sides of the coin and sent it to him.
I’ll call back with instructions, he texted back.
“Smart,” Lula said. “He never stays on long enough to get traced.”
