Lula was fanning her face and flapping her hands. “I’m gonna cry. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get so emotional. Maybe I could have a little stove so I could make a roast chicken. And I always wanted to bake a cake.”
“I’ll draw up a plan,” Julio said. “I know someone who happened on some almost-new appliances so it might not cost you a lot.”
“When can you start?” Lula asked. “I’m living with Stephanie right now. I’m sort of homeless.”
“I can start right away,” Julio said. “I have an opening. Usually, it’s the appliances that take time, but these are available. And I can get a deal on cabinets if you don’t mind slightly used. We’ll give them a coat of paint and they’ll be like new.”
The translation of this was that the appliances were hijacked off a truck last week, and in the dark of night, the cabinets would be removed from a house that had been foreclosed on and abandoned. Not that any of this was so terrible. At least they’d be finding a good home. Besides, it was environmentally friendly, like recycling.
“This is one of those things that was meant to be,” Lula said when we were back in the Rangeman SUV. “At first the fire looked like a bad thing, but now it’s a good thing. I’m going to start practicing cooking as soon as we get home. I’ve got to be ready to have a stove. I didn’t see any sign of Grendel either. There were no tufts of ogre hair sticking to anything.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
I dropped Lula off at the office and I drove to my parents’ house. It was midmorning and my mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway. I parked at the curb, let myself into the house, and yelled hello.
“I’m in the dining room,” Grandma yelled back.
She was at the table, surfing on her laptop.
“Your father is at his lodge and your mother is at the grocery store,” she said. “I stayed home so I could catch up on my socials.”
“Anything fun happening?”
“The usual blah blah blah,” Grandma said, “but Mitchell Zelinsky has a viewing tonight at the funeral home. It’s going to be a good one. He was a big deal in the Knights of Columbus. They’re putting him in slumber room number one. That means they’re expecting a crowd. I thought I would wear my new blue dress. It’s a copy of the dress Princess Kate wore for some shindig. I got it online. You can’t go wrong with Princess Kate.”
CNN, MSNBC, CBS, and Fox paled in comparison to the amount of news that was passed along the Burg gossip line. And Grandma was a premier member. Originally, I’d planned to get her to plant a rumor about Plover and fake jewelry, but now I had something better. There was only one thing that could top the gossip line, and that was a major viewing at the funeral home. A Plover rumor dropped there would spread like wildfire.
“You should come with me,” Grandma said. “I could use a ride.”
“Are dogs allowed?”
“I don’t know. I never saw a dog at a viewing. I guess if you say he’s a service dog it would be okay. He could be one of those comfort dogs. Like an emotional support dog but he could be a bereavement dog.”
I looked over at Bob, not sure if he could pull it off. He’d probably be okay if I kept him away from the cookie table.
“Doors open at seven,” Grandma said. “There’s going to be a rush to get in, but I’ll bet we could use the side door if we’ve got a bereavement animal with us.”
“I’ll pick you up at six forty-five.”
I left my parents’ house and drove to my apartment building. When I’d packed for my move to Rangeman I hadn’t included anything my mother would consider to be suitable for wearing to a viewing.
Lula was in the kitchen when I let myself in. There were candles in jars on the counter and Lula had a spray can in each hand.
“I’m trying to decide on the scent we want in our apartment,” she said. “I’m torn between Woodland Spring and Lemon Verbena. Do you have a preference?”
My preference was to have no scent.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s overwhelming right now. My eyes are burning, and my nose is running.”
“It’ll be better once I make a decision.”
Nutsy was on the couch with his laptop.
“Remember you need to talk to Plover at noon,” I said to him. “If he wants to set up a jewelry exchange, tell him you want more money. Do whatever it takes to delay a meeting.”
“No problem,” Nutsy said. “I’m on it.”
I ran into the bedroom and shoved heels, a black skirt, a white shirt, and a royal-blue jacket into a tote bag. It was my go-to outfit for events I hated and times I wanted to be invisible. It was unremarkably pleasant.
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 pi?ata 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 pi?ata. I’m sorry I missed that. I’m not a fan of bridal showers, but I’d go to one if I thought someone was going to empty a clip into a pi?ata.”
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.”