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“Only if he didn’t turn into a demon. I could live with an ogre, but a demon would creep me out.”
A cop car sped past the office, lights flashing. Sirens were screaming in the distance.
“Something’s going down,” Lula said.
We walked outside and checked the street.
“I see some flashy lights by the hospital,” Lula said.
Bob lifted his leg on my right rear tire, and we all went back into the office.
“We should make a list of things we need,” Lula said. “I don’t need clothes anymore, but I need furniture and accessories. I’m thinking about getting a little dining table with two chairs in case Grendel Doppelgänger wants to come to dinner.”
“I need clothes,” I said. “I brought some to Rangeman but not enough to get me through a week. And I need furniture.”
“And you need a television,” Lula said. “Yours got melted.”
“And I need a car,” I said. “I can’t use the Rangeman car forever.”
“That’s a big-ticket item,” Lula said. “Good thing you made some apprehensions this week.”
Connie walked in and dumped her purse on her desk. “I got Scargucci bailed out and when I turned onto Hamilton on my way back here there was a car up on the sidewalk, smashed into a light post.”
“We saw the lights,” Lula said.
“I was stuck there while they got the guy out of the car. BuckyBalog was there directing traffic, and he said the guy had been shot. Upper arm. He said it was road rage.”
“What kind of car?” I asked Connie.
“Blue Maserati.”
“Am I good or what?” Lula said. “I didn’t think I got him.”
“Did I miss something?” Connie asked.
“Frankie Plover came in and pulled a gun on us,” I said. “There were shots fired and he ran out and drove off in his blue Maserati.”
“I used your gun,” Lula said to Connie. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“This has to be the first time in the history of the world that you actually hit your target,” Connie said.
“She took out the front window,” I said. “And Frankie put a couple rounds in your desk.”
“This never happened,” Connie said. “Some random took a hit from a guy needing anger management. We know nothing about it.”
“Works for me,” I said.
“Freakin’ A,” Lula said.
“Get out of my chair,” Connie said to Lula. “I need to check out my gun. It probably needs an exorcist after you’ve handled it.”
“Where are you staying tonight?” I asked Lula. “And do you know where Nutsy is staying?”
“Nutsy is with his parents. He figures if he hides and never goes out, no one will know he’s there. I have options. I could crash here, or I could go to a hotel, or Julio could turn out to be the man of my dreams, or at least he could be Mr. Good Enough, and all my problems are solved. And if Julio doesn’t work out, I got backups.”
I slouched onto the couch and took up Lula’sStarmagazine. I wanted to be Lula. She navigated life better than I did. If somethingdidn’t work out exactly as planned, she moved on to door number two. No problem. She had backup men. I had backup men, and it gave me an eye twitch.
“Do you want to get married?” I asked Lula, returning to our conversation that Frankie had interrupted.
