“It’s Grendel!” Lula shrieked. “Holy hell! It’s Grendel. He’s come to get me.”
Lula fired off a shot that went wide of everything and put a hole and a spiderweb in the front window. Frankie put a bullet in Connie’s desk, and Grendel whacked Frankie in the head with a garbage bag.
“Hey,” Grendel said to Frankie. “Cut that out.”
Bob and I ran behind the file cabinets. Lula and Frankie got off a couple shots at each other and Frankie ran out of the office and took off in his car. Grendel stood firm with his garbage bags.
Lula looked out from behind her desk. “Grendel?”
“Who’s Grendel?” he asked.
“You are,” she told him.
“I’m not Grendel,” he said. “I’m Gordon Ruff. I’m your next-door neighbor.”
He was almost seven feet tall with a bushy black beard and bushy black hair. He was wearing a black workman’s jacket on his oversize body.
“Shania Brown is my next-door neighbor,” Lula said.
“I’m subleasing from her. She went to stay with her sister in Minnesota.”
“You look like Grendel,” Lula said.
“I don’t know anyone named Grendel. Does he live in the house too? I haven’t gotten to know anyone.”
“Why are you in my apartment at night?”
“My front door lock doesn’t work. I keep complaining but nothing ever gets done. I found out by accident that my key works in your lock, so when I want to get into my apartment I go through your apartment and out the window onto the roof over the back stoop. Then I can get into my apartment through my bedroom window. I always tried not to wake you, but you must be a real light sleeper.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I don’t know. I was sort of scared of you. You shot at me once.”
“How do you get out of your apartment?”
“The same way. Through your apartment. You’re never home when I go out, and you’re always asleep when I come home. I work the late shift at a meatpacking plant. It’s a terrible job, but I’ve saved up enough to open my own butcher shop. Anyway, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you ever since the fire. I was home when the fire alarm went off. It was my day off. I couldn’t get out my front door, so I went out my window, and when I got on the roof, I could see smoke in your closet, so I went in to make sure you weren’t in there. Your whole front room was on fire, so I closed the closet door and grabbed all your stuff and threw it out the window. I can’t help but notice your pretty clothes when I go through the closet. I figured you wouldn’t want to lose it all.” He held the two garbage bags out. “I got them all in here. And that includes a dress and jacket I accidentally knocked onto the floor a while back and stepped on. I had them cleaned. I finally met one of the other people in the house and she told me you work here.”
Lula took the bags from him. “I’m all flummoxed. I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think I’d ever see any of this again.”
“I got as much as I could. I got all the dresses and hair things, but I couldn’t get to all the drawers. I tried airing your stuff out, but it still smells a little smoky.”
“That was real heroic of you,” Lula said. “I don’t know how to thank you. Are you a single man?”
“Yes. I had a girlfriend once but working at the packing plant makes it hard for a relationship.”
“Maybe on your day off I could take you out to dinner as a thank-you. You’re living in your apartment now, right?” Lula asked.
“Yes. I have a couple big fans set up to dry out the carpet. It’s not so bad. Shania’s insurance company sent some people in to clean.”
“We definitely got to get together,” Lula said. “When is your day off?”
“Saturday,” Ruff said. “I gotta go to work now, but I’m always okay for lunch, and you can drop in any time you want. I finally got my door lock fixed.”
Lula and I watched him lumber down the street.
“You got to admit, he looks like Grendel,” Lula said. “And he has a growly voice like Grendel.”
“Do you still think he’s Grendel?”
“I’m leaning toward him being a doppelg?nger, and I’m willing to overlook the obvious similarities since he’s not married and conveniently lives next door. You never know when you’ll want to borrow something or when you’ll need a place to live.”
“You’d live with Grendel Doppelg?nger?”
“Only if he didn’t turn into a demon. I could live with an ogre, but a demon would creep me out.”
A cop car sped past the office, lights flashing. Sirens were screaming in the distance.
“Something’s going down,” Lula said.
We walked outside and checked the street.
“I see some flashy lights by the hospital,” Lula said.
Bob lifted his leg on my right rear tire, and we all went back into the office.
“We should make a list of things we need,” Lula said. “I don’t need clothes anymore, but I need furniture and accessories. I’m thinking about getting a little dining table with two chairs in case Grendel Doppelg?nger wants to come to dinner.”
“I need clothes,” I said. “I brought some to Rangeman but not enough to get me through a week. And I need furniture.”
“And you need a television,” Lula said. “Yours got melted.”
“And I need a car,” I said. “I can’t use the Rangeman car forever.”
“That’s a big-ticket item,” Lula said. “Good thing you made some apprehensions this week.”
Connie walked in and dumped her purse on her desk. “I got Scargucci bailed out and when I turned onto Hamilton on my way back here there was a car up on the sidewalk, smashed into a light post.”
“We saw the lights,” Lula said.
“I was stuck there while they got the guy out of the car. Bucky Balog was there directing traffic, and he said the guy had been shot. Upper arm. He said it was road rage.”
“What kind of car?” I asked Connie.
“Blue Maserati.”
“Am I good or what?” Lula said. “I didn’t think I got him.”
“Did I miss something?” Connie asked.
“Frankie Plover came in and pulled a gun on us,” I said. “There were shots fired and he ran out and drove off in his blue Maserati.”
“I used your gun,” Lula said to Connie. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“This has to be the first time in the history of the world that you actually hit your target,” Connie said.
“She took out the front window,” I said. “And Frankie put a couple rounds in your desk.”
“This never happened,” Connie said. “Some random took a hit from a guy needing anger management. We know nothing about it.”
“Works for me,” I said.
“Freakin’ A,” Lula said.
“Get out of my chair,” Connie said to Lula. “I need to check out my gun. It probably needs an exorcist after you’ve handled it.”
“Where are you staying tonight?” I asked Lula. “And do you know where Nutsy is staying?”