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Lula followed me into the bedroom. “Looks to me like you’re going to a viewing,” she said. “You just crammed your blue jacket into that bag.”
“I promised Grandma I’d go with her. I thought it would be a good place to snoop for gossip and start a couple rumors about Plover.”
“Plover’s not going to be happy about that. And while we’re on the subject of unhappy, Connie got two FTAs in right after you left.”
“Anything good?”
“I don’t know. I just know they came in. I didn’t have time to learn about them on account of I wanted to come home and do my scent testing.”
“A woman has to have priorities,” I said.
“Damn skippy.”
I grabbed a couple granola bars out of the kitchen and Bob and I drove to the office.
“Hey,” Connie said. “I have two new FTAs.”
“Lula told me.”
“Jenny Johnston. Twenty-three years old. Wasn’t invited to a bridal shower so she trashed it. Shot the crap out of the heart-shaped piñata and pushed the bride-to-be face-first into the sheet cake. Didn’t show up for court yesterday. Second one is even better,” Connie said. “Henry Scargucci. Hijacked an eighteen-wheeler loaded with electronics and tried to sell them to an undercover cop. Also didn’t show for court.”
I took the two files, crammed them into my messenger bag, and called Lula.
“I’m going after one of the FTAs,” I said. “Do you want to ride with me?”
“I might as well being that I decided on our scent. I’m going with Woodland Spring. It works better with your subdued color palette of gently used beige.”
Lula parked her Firebird in front of the office and got into my Rangeman SUV. I handed the Johnston file over to her and pulled into traffic.
“Johnston is a bartender, working the evening shift at Danielo,” I said. “This should be a good time to catch her at home.”
Lula flipped through the file. “I like the part where she shot up the piñata. I’m sorry I missed that. I’m not a fan of bridalshowers, but I’d go to one if I thought someone was going to empty a clip into a piñata.”
Johnston lived in an apartment complex that was popular with singles. It had a pool, tennis courts, and a clubhouse with a bar and a gym.
“We should be living here,” Lula said. “They have all kinds of facilities. I could play tennis. And I might find Mr. Right at the bar.”
Finding Mr. Right wasn’t a selling point for me. I already had two Mr. Rights in my life. I was conflicted enough. And while I have delusional visions of myself looking fantastic in tennis attire whacking the ball around, realistically I can’t see it happening.
“That’s her building on the right,” Lula said. “It looks like she’s on the second floor. I bet she’s got a balcony that looks over the pool.”
I was on the second floor in my building, and I had a fire escape that looked over the parking lot. I told myself it was retro. And honestly, I liked my stodgy no-frills building. It had a good mix of people.
I wasn’t sure if this was a pet-friendly complex, so we left Bob in the SUV with strict instructions.
“I guess this is one of those situations where you’re going to give her the baloney about how we’re just going to get her rescheduled.”
“It’s not baloney,” I said. “If everything goes right, it’s the way it will play out.”
“It never plays out right,” Lula said. “These are people who don’t want to go to jail.”
“Humor me,” I said. “It’s our opening move.”
“That’s okay with me,” Lula said. “It’s okay as an opening move. You just don’t want to count on it working.”
I rang the bell twice and Jenny Johnston opened her door. She looked like her photo. Blond, slim, angry.
“What?” she said.
