I held the door open a crack, and Lula and I peeked in. No dogs in sight.
'Not likely Banker's in here,' Lula said, following me through the front door. 'The door would be locked up. And anyway, jail would look good compared to this pigpen.'
We stepped over a suspicious stain on the rug and stared into the jumbled mess that passed for Lowanda's home. There was a mattress on the floor in the far corner of the living room. The mattress was covered with a tattered yellow chenille spread. An open, empty pizza delivery box was on the floor by the mattress.
Clothes and shoes were scattered everywhere. A couple rickety folding chairs had been set up in the living room. The backs of the chairs said 'Morten's Funeral Parlor.' A big brown leather recliner had been placed in front of the television. The recliner had a gash in one arm and in the seat, and some of the stuffing was spilling out.
Lowanda was in the recliner with her back to us, a phone to her ear and a bucket of chicken nuggets balanced on the roll of fat that circled her waist. She was wearing gray sweats decorated with ketchup stains.
'Yeah, honey,' she said into the phone. That's good, baby. Oh yeah. Oh-h-h-h yeah. I just got myself all naked for you. An' I got love oil on myself 'cause I'm gonna get hot.'
'Hey!' Lula said. 'Lowanda, you paying attention here?'
Lowanda jumped in her seat and whipped around to look at us.
'What the hell?' she said. 'What are you doing scaring me like that when I'm trying to earn a honest living?' She returned to the phone. 'Excuse me, sugar. Lowanda's got a small problem. Could you just work on yourself some? I be right back.' She covered the phone with her hand and got up, some of the chair stuffing sticking to her double-wide ass. 'What?'
'We're looking for Roger Banker,' Lula said.
'Well, he isn't here. Does it look like he's here?'
'Maybe he's hiding in the other room,' Lula said.
'You got a search warrant?'
'We don't need a search warrant,' Lula said. 'We're bounty hunters.'
'Whatever,' Lowanda said. 'Just do your search and get out. I gotta get back to my caller. Soon as you stop talking to Mr Stiffy he turns into Mr Softy. And I get paid by the job. I do a volume business here.'
Lula moved through the house while I stayed with Lowanda.
`I'm willing to pay for information,' I told Lowanda. 'Do you have any information?'
'How much you paying?'
'Depends on the information,' I said.
'I got an address. I know where he's at if you hurry over there.'
She handed the phone over to me. 'You talk to this guy, and I'll write down the address.'
'Wait a minute
'Hello?' Mr Stiffy said. 'Who's this?'
'None of your business.'
'I like that,' he said. 'Spunky. I bet you'd like to spank me.'
'Wait a minute. I know your voice. Vinnie?'
'Stephanie? Christ.' Disconnect.
Lowanda came back with the paper. 'Here it is,' she said. 'This is where he's staying.'
I looked at the paper. 'This is your sister's address.'
'And? What happened to my caller?'
'He hung up. He was done.'
Lula returned to the living room. 'Lowanda,' she said, 'you better do something about your kitchen. You got a cockroach as big as a cow in there.'
I gave Lowanda a twenty.
'This is it? This is all I get?' Lowanda said.
'If Banker's at Beverly's house, I'll be back with the rest of the money.'
°Where's the dogs?' Lula wanted to know.
'Out,' Lowanda said. They like to go out when the weather's nice.'
Lula opened Lowandas door and looked around. 'How far out do they go?'
'How the hell do I know? They go out. And they stay out all day. Out is out.'
'Just asking,' Lula said. 'No need to get touchy. You don't exactly have the best-mannered dogs, Lowanda.'
Lowanda had her hands on her hips, lower lip stuck out, eyes narrowed. 'You dissin' on my dogs?'
'Yeah,' Lula said. 'I hate your dogs. Your dogs are rude. Those dogs hump everything.'
'Wasn't so long ago people was saying that about you,' Lowanda said. 'You got some nerve coming around here asking for information and then dissin' my dogs. I got a mind to never give you no more information.'
I grabbed Lula before she removed Lowanda's eyes from her eye sockets, and I shoved Lula out the door.
'Don't provoke her,' I said to Lula. 'She's probably got guns.'
'I got a gun,' Lula said. 'And I got a mind to use it.'
'No guns! And get moving. I don't like standing out here in the open where the dogs can find us.'
1 think she insulted me,' Lula said. `I'm not ashamed of my past.
I was a damn good 'ho. But I didn't like the tone of her voice just now. It was an insulting tone.'
'I don't care what tone she had... move your butt to the car before the dogs get us.'
'What's with you and the dogs? Here I just been insulted, and all you can think about is the dogs.'
'Do you want to be standing here when those dogs come running around the corner of the building?'
'Hunh. I could take care of those dogs if I had to. It's not like I'm afraid of those dogs.'
'Well, I'm afraid of those dogs, so haul ass.'
And that was when we heard them. Yipping, yipping, yipping in the distance. On the move. Getting closer. Somewhere out of sight, to the side of the building.
'Oh shit,' Lula said. And Lula started running for the car, knees up, arms pumping.
I was two steps in front of her, running for all I was worth. I could hear the dogs round the corner. I turned to look, and I saw them galloping after us, eyes wild, mouths open, tongues and ears catching wind. They were closing ground fast, the biggest of them in the lead.
Lula let out a shriek. 'Lord help me!'
I guess the Lord was listening because they ran past Lula and took me down. The first dog hit me square in the back, sending me to my knees. Not a good position to be in when you're attacked by a pack of humpers. I tried to regain my footing, but the dogs were on me, and I couldn't get up. I had humpers on both legs, and a bulldog that looked like Winston Churchill humping my head.
There was a humper on a humper.
'Keep going. Save yourself!' I yelled to Lula. Tell my mother I love her.'
'Get up!' Lula yelled at me. 'You gotta get up! Those dogs'll hump you to death.'
She was right. The pack was vicious. It was in a humping frenzy.
Dogs in inferior humping positions were snarling and nipping, jockeying for better locations. The leg humpers held tight, grimly determined to finish the job, but the head humper kept losing his grip. The head humper was drooling and panting hot dog breath in my face. He'd hump some and slide off, and then he'd come scrambling back, trying to hump again.
'I can't get up!' I said. I've got seven humping dogs on me. Seven. Do something!'
Lula was running around, hands in the air. 'I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do.'
'Get the dog off my head,' I yelled. 'I don't care about the leg humpers. Just get the dog off my head!'
'Maybe you should let them have their way with you,' Lula said.
They'll go away as soon as they're done. That's the way it is with male humping.'
'Maybe you should goddamn grab this horny humping bulldog and get him the hell off my freaking head!'
The door to Lowanda's apartment crashed open, and Lowanda yelled out to us. 'Hey!' she said. 'What are you doing to my dogs?'
'We aren't doing nothing,' Lula said. They're humping
Stephanie.'
Lowanda had a bag of dog kibble in her hand. She shook the bag and the dogs stopped humping and looked around. Lowanda shook the bag some more and the dogs gave a couple last halfhearted humps and took off for the kibble.
'Dumb-ass bounty hunters,' Lowanda said, disappearing into the house with the dogs, slamming and locking the door behind her.
/> 'I thought you were a goner,' Lula said to me.
I was on my back, breathing heavy, eyes closed. 'Give me a minute.'
'You're a mess,' Lula said. 'Those dogs humped all over you. And you got something in your hair from that bulldog.'
I got to my feet. `I'm going with drool. It looks like drool, right?'
'If you say so.'
Lula and I moved to the safety of the car, and Lula drove the distance to Beverly's apartment. Beverly's apartment looked a lot like Lowanda's, except Beverly didn't have a recliner. Beverly had a couch hauled up to her television. The couch was partially covered with a blue sheet, and I feared there was a gross stain under the sheet, too terrible for even Beverly to overlook.
'You can't come in here now,' Beverly said, when she opened the door. `I'm busy. I got my honey here, and we were just getting it on.'
'More information than I need,' Lula said. 'I just watched a pack of dogs hump Stephanie. I about reached my humping limit for the day.'
Those must be Lowanda's dogs,' Beverly said. 'I don't know what the deal is with those dogs. I never seen anything like it. And three of them is female.'
'We're looking for an FTA,' I said to Beverly.
'Yeah, that's what you're always doing here,' Beverly said. 'But
I'm not FTA. I didn't do nothing wrong. Swear to God.'
'It's not you,' I said. I'm looking for Roger Banker.'
'Hunh,' Beverley said. That's inconvenient. You gonna arrest him?'
'We're going to take him to the station to get rebonded.'
Then what? Then you gonna let him go?'
'Do you want us to let him go?' Lula asked.
'Well, yeah.'
Then that's what we'll do,' Lula told her. 'He'll be in and out.
And on top of that, we'll give you a twenty if we get to take him in.'
Lowanda and Beverly would give their mother up for spare change.
'Okay, I guess I could tell you then,' Beverly said. 'He's the honey in the back room. And he might be a little indisposed.'
'Roger,' Beverly called out. I got a couple ladies out here want to see you.'
'Bring them back,' Roger said. `I can handle them. More is better when it comes to ladies.'
Lula and I looked at each other and did some eye rolling.
Tell him to get dressed and come out here to meet us, I said to
Beverly.
'You should put some pants on and come out here,' Beverly said.
They don't want to meet up with you in the back room.'
We could hear some rustling and fumbling, and Banker strolled out. He was wearing khaki pants and sneakers. No socks, no shirt.
I was betting on no underwear.
'Roger Banker,' Lula said. This here's your lucky day on account of we come to give you a free ride to the clink.'
Banker blinked once at Lula and once at me. And then he whirled around and ran for the kitchen door.
'Cover the crappy car in the front,' I yelled to Lula. 'It's probably
Banker's.' And I took off after Banker, pushing around Beverly, following Banker out the back door. Banker was running fast, long legs gobbling up ground. He jumped a section of chain-link arid disappeared around the end of the building. I scrambled to follow and got snagged on a piece of wire as I cleared the top of the fence.
I ripped myself free and kept going. Banker was maybe half a block ahead of me, but I had him in view. He was on the street, doubling back, running toward his car. And he was slowing down. Good thing, too, because I was dying. I really needed to do more aerobics. The only time I actually worked out was when I was in bed with Morelli. And even then I spent a lot of time on my back.
Lula was between Banker and the car. She was in the road, looking like a big pissed-off bull about to charge. If I was Banker I would have thought long and hard about getting around Lula, but
I guess Banker didn't feel like he had a lot of options, because he never broke stride. Banker ran straight on, into Lula. There was a sound like a basketball hitting against a brick wall. Lula went on her ass, and Banker bounced back about five feet.
I tackled him from behind, and we both went down. I had cuffs in my hand, and I was trying to grab a wrist, but Banker was flailing around.
'Help me!' I yelled to Lula. 'Do something.'
'Out of my way,' Lula said.
I rolled free of Banker, and Lula sat down hard on him, simultaneously expelling every molecule of air out of both ends of
Banker's body.
'Oooff,' Banker said. And then he went dead still, spread-eagled on his back, looking like roadkill.
I cuffed him, and stood free. His eyes were open but glazed, and he was breathing shallow.
'Blink if you're okay,' I said.
'Fuck,' Banker whispered.
'Well, what were you thinking?' Lula asked down at him, hands on hips. 'You don't just run into a woman like that. Didn't you see me standing there? I got a mind to sit on you again. I could squash you like a bug if I wanted.'
'I think I messed myself,' Banker said.
'Then you aren't riding in my car,' Lula told him. 'You can walk your sorry behind all the way to the police station.'
I hauled Banker up onto his feet and searched his pockets for his car keys. I found the keys plus twenty dollars. 'Give the money to
Beverly,' I told Lula. `I'll drive him to the station in his car, and you can follow.'
'Sure,' Lula said.
I dragged Banker to the crappy car parked curbside and turned to Lula. 'You're going to wait for me at the police station, right?'
'Are you implying I don't always wait?'
'You never wait.'
'I can't help it. I got a thing about police stations. It's from my troubled past.'
An hour later I had Banker securely behind bars, and I had the body receipt in my hand, guaranteeing that Vinnie wouldn't be out his bond money. I searched the parking lot, but I couldn't find
Lula. Big surprise. I called her cell phone. No answer. I tried the office.
'Sorry,' Connie said. 'She's not here. She stopped in to say that you had Banker, but then she took off again.'
Great. I had half the ass ripped out of my jeans, my shirt was covered with grass stains, and I didn't even want to think about the state of my hair. I was standing in the middle of the public parking lot across from the police station, and I had no car. I could call my father. I could call Morelli. I could call a cab. Problem was, they were all a temporary fix. When I woke up tomorrow I would be back to square one with no car.
Of course there was still one more choice available to me.
Ranger's truck. It was big and black and brand new. It came fully loaded with all sorts of toys and customized options. And it smelled like expensive new leather and Ranger... an aroma second only to chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven. Too bad there were a lot of really good reasons not to use the truck. At the top of the list was the fact that Joe would be nuts.
My cell phone chirped in my bag. It's me,' Connie said. 'Vinnie just left for the day, and his last directive was that you're responsible for Carol Cantell. He doesn't want any screw-ups.'
'Sure,' I said. 'You can count on me.' I disconnected, blew out a sigh, and dialed Ranger's man, Tank. The conversation with Tank was short. Yes, Ranger had given him instructions to turn the truck over to me. Delivery would take about twenty minutes.
I put the time to good use by rationalizing my actions. I had no choice. I had to take the truck, right? How else would I do my job?
And if I didn't do my job I wouldn't get paid. And then I wouldn't be able to make my rent payment. True, my sister was paying the rent these days on my apartment, and I was living rent-free with
Morelli. But that could change at any moment. Suppose Valerie suddenly moved out?
What then? And it wasn't as if I was married to Morelli. We could have a big fight, and I could be on my own again. In fact, now that I was getting the truck a big fight was almost a ce
rtainty. This was an exhausting thought. Life was fudging complicated.
The truck arrived exactly on time, followed by the black SUV.
Tank got out of the truck and handed me the keys.
To say that Tank is a big guy is oversimplification. Tank is a tank.
Ten Big Ones Page 9