Fearless Fourteen - Janet Evanovich [77]
I didn’t respond.
“Well?” he said.
“I’ll get the van.”
“No police. If you bring the police in on this, I’ll know. And it won’t be good for Loretta.”
“I have to make sure she’s okay.”
“She’s as okay as anyone could be who just had two toes removed, and that’s as close as you’re going to get to her.”
My newly washed car was at the curb. No more Zook decorations. Just rust and faded paint and a bunch of dings and dents. I drove to the office and got there just as Connie was unlocking the door. No sign of Lula. I called Morelli on the office phone, and he called me back from a landline.
“He’s left the keys on a bench at the train station. I’m to pick them up and get the van. When I have the van, I’m supposed to call him. His number will be with the keys.”
“We can do this,” Morelli said. “We have video of the van. We can duplicate it and have it in the garage. Get the keys and I’ll get back to you when we’re ready.”
The door to the bonds office banged open and shut and Lula stormed in.
“I swear,” she said. “I have a mind not to get married. That man came to my house stinking drunk last night. I opened the door, and he called me Charlotte. Who the hell is Charlotte? He said it was his mother, but I don’t believe it for a minute. And then when I said I wanted to meet his mother, he said she was dead. And I don’t think that’s true. I think he don’t want me to meet his mama.”
“We’ve got a stack of filing,” Connie said. “Are you up to filing?”
“I’m up to murder. I’m in a vicious mood. I was ready for a good time, if you know what I mean. And he fell asleep in the bathroom. I thought he was getting ready. You know how sometimes men need to get ready?”
I didn’t have that problem. The men in my life were always ready. In fact, I could do with a little less ready.
Connie looked confused by it, too. “Ready for what?” Connie asked.
“Whatever,” Lula said. “How the hell do I know what they do in there? Anyway, he’s not coming out and he’s not coming out, and finally I go in and he’s asleep on the floor. So I said to him, Hey! And he never even twitched. And then I pushed him around. And that didn’t do nothing. So I watched some television and went to bed, and when I got up he was gone. Good thing, too, because I wasn’t happy. I’m not marrying no alcoholic.”
I couldn’t imagine Tank or Ranger drunk. They were always in control. They ate vegetables. They exercised. They didn’t eat butter, and they ate whole wheat bread. What on earth could drive Tank to drink? The answer was clear. The answer was . . . Lula. Big, tough Tank was no match for Lula.
“I have an errand to run,” I said. “I’ll be back.”
The train station wasn’t far away, and the bench was easy to find. There was only one with a Nike ad. I illegally parked, ran over, and sat on the bench. I had my choice of feeling around or bending over and looking. Neither was appealing, considering what might be stuck there besides the keys. I went with the looking and had good luck. The keys and the phone number were in an envelope held to the seat with electricians tape. I shoved the envelope into my pocket and motored back to the office. Connie was on the phone and Lula was filing when I walked in.
I sunk into the couch and paged through one of Lula’s bride magazines. Connie got off the phone and looked over at me.
“Vinnie’s coming home on Wednesday, and he’s not going to be happy about the number of skips out there,” Connie said. “We have a stack of low-money losers that adds up to a lot of money.”
I knew she was right. I had a list in my purse. Loretta had been taking precedent over the job.
“Susan Stitch would be a good place to start,” Connie said.
“No way,” Lula said from behind a file cabinet. “That’s the monkey lady. I’m not going back there. I hate monkeys. And I especially hate that monkey. That monkey is the spawn of the devil.”
“It was Brenda’s fault for letting him out of the bathroom,