“Omigod,” I said. “I’m not going to drop you off at the bridge. You can stay with me too.”
While I was saying this, I calculated how much alcohol I had in my apartment. There was no way I was going to get through this sober.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Bob and I slept in my bed. Lula took the couch. Nutsy slept on the floor. At one o’clock Lula came into my bedroom.
“Are you awake?” she asked me.
“I am now,” I said.
“I can’t sleep out there with him,” she said. “He snores and he talks in his sleep. If you and Bob move over, I can fit in here. I won’t take up much room. I’ll stay way over here on my side of the bed.”
Ten minutes later, Bob and I were wide awake, and Lula was snoring like a buzz saw. Bob got up and went into the bathroom to sleep. I was left with Lula.
I dragged myself out of bed at six in the morning, staggered into the bathroom, and stood in the shower until the water ran cold. If it was necessary to sleep with Lula one more night, I would have to kill her. I got dressed, and Bob and I made our way past Nutsy to the kitchen. His socks, shoes, and assorted clothes were spread around the room. Plus, he’d helped himself to a late-night snack. Crumbs, wrappers, empty beer bottles, and cereal boxes were mixed in with the clothes on the floor. And he was snoring. I’d have to kill him too.
I poured some dog kibble into Bob’s bowl and stared into the fridge. I was tempted to go for the margarita mix and vodka, but I pulled myself back from the edge of the cliff and went with coffee and a frozen waffle. I toasted the waffle and added a slice of American cheese, which instantly turned to molten yellow sludge.
I took Bob for a walk, and when I came back everyone was still snoring. Good thing I didn’t have any bullets for my gun. I taped a note to the fridge door, telling Lula and Nutsy that Bob and I were going to my parents’ house and that they should call me when they woke up if they needed a ride somewhere.
My mom and Grandma were at the front door when I pulled up in the Explorer. They were holding white bakery bags and boxes. I knew the Sunday routine. Early Mass and then a stop at the bakery.
Every morning my father was in the kitchen at six o’clock. He had a bowl of cornflakes with a banana, half a glass of orange juice, and a cup of coffee. At six thirty he stuck a sign that said TAXI to the roof of his Honda, and he left to make his commuter pickups. Except Sunday. My father slept in on Sunday. On Sunday, my father got up after the bakery bags arrived and the smell of fresh brewed coffee drifted up to him.
“Just in time,” Grandma said to me when I joined them in the foyer. “They had those mocha and vanilla shortbread cookies that you like. Fresh baked. And we got almond croissants, powdered jelly doughnuts, a cream cheese coffee cake, and bear claws. The bear claws are for your father, but we got extra.”
My mom got coffee going, Grandma set out the pastries, and I kept a tight leash on Bob so that he didn’t go nuts and eat everything. My dad ambled in, put two bear claws on a plate, took a mug of coffee from my mom, and carted it all into the living room. He had Sunday shows to watch.
My mom, Grandma, and I sat at the little kitchen table.
“What’s new?” Grandma asked me.
“There was a fire in Lula’s apartment last night. It looks like it didn’t spread to the whole house, but there’s a lot of smoke and water damage throughout. Lula wasn’t home at the time, so she’s okay.”
“That’s terrible,” my mom said. “Can she still live there?”
“I don’t know. She spent the night with me. We’ll take a look at it later this morning.”
Grandma helped herself to a slice of the coffee cake. “What’s happening with Nutsy?”
“I found him and then I lost him,” I said.
Not a total lie. It was just that I lost him in my apartment. Sometimes Grandma had a hard time with keeping secrets, and I didn’t want to put Nutsy in jeopardy.
“The word on the street is that Plover is going a little wacko,” Grandma said. “Looking very nervous. Hired a new security guard and this one is armed.”
I could believe it. I had twelve text messages from him demanding action on Nutsy. The last one said, Get him or else! I had no clue what or else referred to.
I took a seat at the table and grabbed a jelly doughnut. Sunday is usually an odd day for me. The office and the courts are closed, but Lula and I frequently work anyway. Lots of times it’s because we haven’t got anything better to do. Most of the time it’s because we need the money. And some of the time it’s because we actually have a viable lead.
“Do you have any other fun news?” I asked Grandma.
“Veronica Shidig died. Aneurysm.”
I didn’t know Veronica Shidig.
“Anything else?” I asked her.
“It’s been a slow week. The best part was your mother chasing after Nutsy.”
“He cheated by cutting through that lot,” my mother said.
“You were a maniac,” Grandma said to my mother. “You were awesome. You were like a NASCAR driver.”
“I agree,” I said to my mom. “You were awesome.”
“I took the mirrors off the Camry,” my mom said.
“Just like NASCAR,” Grandma said. “Those guys are trashing cars all the time. They just pit and put some tape on the broken parts and keep going. If I was younger, and I had a driver’s license, I’d want to be a NASCAR driver. Some people want to be astronauts, but an astronaut just sits in a cushy seat and gets blasted into space. A NASCAR driver has skills and guts. Only way you could make a race more exciting would be to have the drivers naked. Now, that would be something.”
We all thought about that for a minute. Naked NASCAR drivers.
“The Romans used to have naked sporting events all the time,” Grandma said. “Those were the days.”
The conversation stopped when my father came in for a jelly doughnut and to refill his coffee mug.
“What’s for dinner tonight?” he asked.
“Roast chicken and apple pie,” my mom said.
This has been the answer for as long as I could remember. Roast chicken on Sunday, pot roast on Friday. The rest of the week was up for grabs.
I was on my second jelly doughnut when my phone rang. Lula wanted to go back to her apartment and Nutsy wanted to get his Yamaha.
“I have to go,” I said. “Things to do.”
My mom put the shortbread cookies in a plastic baggie and gave them to me. “I know you like these,” she said.
I hugged my mom and Grandma. Grandma gave Bob a kiss on the top of his head, and I left.
Lula and Nutsy were waiting at the building’s back door when I drove into the lot. Lula got into the front with me and Nutsy got into the back with Bob.
I drove across town and dropped Nutsy off at Sissy’s house. Nutsy went straight to his bike, removed the cover, and took off for who-knows-where. I didn’t see anyone in the vicinity doing surveillance. I assumed Nutsy was safe.
“Considering he’s a clown, he isn’t a barrel of laughs,” Lula said. “Of course, he said he’s more of a mime, and they’re sort of creepy.”
Next stop was Lula’s apartment house. There was still sooty water in the gutters and the crime scene tape hadn’t been removed. A lone car was parked in front of the house. The fire marshal was working early. Probably had plans for later in the day. I parked behind the fire marshal’s car, and Lula, Bob, and I got out.