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I hit the child lock button and opened all the windows. “No one’s getting out until we’re at the municipal building.”
“It’s all your fault anyway,” Lula said to Bella. “You made him poop his pants.”
“Seemed like good idea,” Bella said. “I was tired of standing there. I wanted lunch. I didn’t think ahead to sitting in backseat.”
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot for the municipal building, and everyone jumped out of the car. I cuffed Walburg, walked him across the street to the police station, and apologized to the desk cop.
“Sorry about the smell,” I said. “Not my bad.”
Lula and Bella were standing at a distance from my car when I got back to the parking lot.
“Anyone still want lunch?” I asked.
“We should go to Cluck-in-a-Bucket and get takeout,” Lula said. “That way we can replace the Walburg smell with fried-chicken-and-onion-rings smell.”
I cut through town to Hamilton Avenue and got buckets of fried chicken, onion rings, fries, and coleslaw. We took it to the office and set it all on Connie’s desk.
Vinnie popped out of his office, spied Bella, and instantly retreated, slamming his door shut and locking it.
“Va fancul,” Bella said to the closed door, hand gesture included.
“Amen to that,” Lula said.
We pulled chairs up to Connie’s desk and dug into the food.
“I got good stuff,” Bella said, taking a flask out of her pocketbook. “Who want some?”
“I’ll take a hit,” Lula said, pouring out a shot glass of hooch. She threw it back and gasped. “Fire,” she said. “I’m on fire. That’s one hundred percent grain alcohol.”
“Amateur,” Bella said to Lula, chugging some down.
Connie and I passed.
“Why was Walburg considered a flight risk?” I asked Connie.
“He has clients who value his expertise and would prefer not to see him come to trial,” Connie said. “They have the ability to relocate him.”
“Or terminate him?” Lula said.
“It’s possible but not likely. I hear he’s very clever. A bomb savant,” Connie said.
Bella ate two pieces of chicken and drained her flask. “I’m done,” Bella said. “What now? You got any more job to do?”
“Not today,” I said.
“Okay. Take me home.”
I was half a block away from the Morelli house when I saw Joe’s mom pull into her driveway. Hooray! I turned Bella over to Joe’s mom and drove the short distance to my parents’ house. I’d promised to take Grandma shopping for a new pocketbook.
“This is just in time,” Grandma said, getting into my car. “I’m going to bingo tonight and I want to look nice. Mort Blankowski is calling numbers. He’s a cutie and his wife just died so he’s up for grabs.”
I cruised out of the Burg and headed for Route 1.
“This car smells bad,” Grandma said. “It smells like fried chicken and doody.”
I opened the windows. “It’s been a hard day.”
“You should take some probiotic pills,” Grandma said. “They say yogurt is good too.”
