18 Explosive Eighteen (17 page)

“Maybe it was the two double-sausage, extra-grease breakfast sandwiches you ate,” Connie said.

“Fol owed by a dozen doughnuts.”

“I didn’t eat the whole dozen,” Lula said. “There’s two left in the box. And I wouldn’t have eaten so many if they weren’t al different. I hate when I miss a culinary experience.”

“I have a new stun gun,” I said. “I thought I’d test-drive it on Buggy.”

“Wham!” Lula said. “Let’s do it.”

Lula and I walked out of the office, and Lula climbed into my truck while I crossed the street and went to the Lincoln to talk to Lancer.

“You look like you got run over by a truck,” Lancer said.

“I took a meeting with Razzle Dazzle.”

“Did you give him the photograph?”

“I don’t have the photograph to give.”

“You’re lucky you’re alive. He’s a real freak.” Not what I wanted to hear.

“Lula and I are going after an FTA. In case you want to catch some breakfast, I’l be back in an hour or two.”

“No way. We’re sticking to you like glue,” Lancer said. “We go where you go.”

“Then why weren’t you in my apartment building parking lot this morning?”

“We got chased out by some old guy. He said it was a private lot, and we weren’t al owed to park there. And besides, we were in his parking space.”

“Was he driving a big burgundy Cadil ac?”

“Yeah. And he was yel ing at us, threatening to cal the police.”

Mr. Kolakowski, from 5A, God bless him.

Crankiest man to ever walk the earth.

“In case you lose me, I’m going to Orchard Street,” I said to Lancer.

“That’s north Trenton, right?”

“Yeah.”

I jogged across the street, hoisted myself up behind the wheel, and drove off. I wasn’t going anywhere near Orchard Street. Buggy was on the other side of town. I pul ed away from the curb, drove a block, and hooked a left. Lancer was behind me. I took a right turn and sailed through the light at the next intersection. Lancer was stopped on the red. I took a left at the next block, left again, and Lancer was good-bye.

I cut across Hamilton and turned onto Pul ing.

“I don’t feel so good,” Lula said. “It was that last doughnut. There was something wrong with it. It was one of them cream-fil ed, and I think they used old cream.”

“You ate ten!”

“Yeah, and none of the others bothered me. I’m tel ing you, it was that last doughnut. I’d feel better if I could burp.”

I parked and sat looking at the Bugkowski house for a couple minutes. No activity. I was betting Buggy was holed up inside, wishing he had a way to get food. I should have brought the last two doughnuts. I put the truck in gear, made a U-turn, and drove to Pino’s. Twenty minutes later, I was in front of the Bugkowski house with a steaming hot pizza.

“Here’s how it’s going down,” I said to Lula.

“You’re going to get into the back of the truck with the pizza box. Then I’m going to ring his bel and tel him we want to rebond him. He’s going to say no, but he’l smel the pizza, and he’l go after it. As soon as he gets himself up into the back of the truck, I’l zap him and cuff him.”

“You tried to zap him before, and it didn’t work.”

“I have a bigger zapper now.”

I lowered the tailgate and got Lula up into the truck bed. I stuffed the key into my pocket, so Buggy couldn’t grab it, and I went to his door.

Buggy opened the door and looked past me.

“Nice truck.”

Lula waved a piece of pizza at him. “Yoohoo, Buggy honey.”

“She got pizza,” Buggy said. He pushed past me and went straight to the truck. “You got more?” he asked Lula.

“I got almost a whole pie,” Lula said. “You want some?”

“Yuh,” Buggy said, climbing over the tailgate.

I scrambled after him, and when he reached for a piece of pizza I pressed the stun gun to the back of his neck and hit the go button. He went dead stil for a beat, and I swear his hair lit up, and then he crumpled face-first into Lula’s lap.

“He got his nose in my lady parts,” Lula said, holding the pizza box to the side. “Not that I haven’t been in this predicament before, but there’s a time and place for everything, you see what I’m sayin’?” I looked at the pizza box. There were two pieces missing.

“Did you eat two slices of pizza?” I asked Lula.

“I thought it might settle my stomach, but I was wrong.”

I wrapped the Flexi-Cuffs around Buggy’s wrists, shackled his ankles, and rol ed him off Lula.

“We don’t want a repeat of Lahonka,” I said. “Take the stun gun and stay in back with Buggy. If he comes around and gets unruly, give him a shot.”

“I don’t know if I’m gonna make it to the police station,” Lula said. “You got antacids? You got Pepto?”

I searched my bag.

“What’s that pink stuff in there?” Lula said. “It looks like Pepto.”

“It’s the stuff Annie Hart gave me.” Lula reached in and took the bottle. “Whatever.” She chugged it down and burped. “Oh yeah, that’s better.”

My eyes were wide and my mouth was open.

“What?” Lula asked.

“You drank the stuff Annie gave me. I have no idea what was in it. The woman is a kook. She makes love potions. For al I know, you just drank yak eyes and buffalo piss.”

“It didn’t look like buffalo piss,” Lula said. “It was a pretty pink color. How do those love potions work?”

“I don’t know.”

“Like, do they make you have love at first sight?

Because I like that idea. There’s not enough romance in the world. I always said that when I was a

’ho. I always threw in some romance for free if the customer wanted. And some of those customers didn’t inspire romance, if you know what I mean. Like take Buggy, for instance. He’s kinda cute.” Buggy’s eyes were half open, he was drooling, and he farted.

“He’s a bridge trol ,” I said.

“Yeah, but I just drank a love potion, so I could be excused for havin’ bad taste. And besides, bridge trol s are in now. What about Shrek? Everybody loves Shrek. Remember when he blew bubbles in the bathtub? He was adorable.”

“He was a cartoon.”

“I’m feeling warm,” Lula said. “It might be on account of I sort of had a romantic experience just now with Mr. Cutie Pie here. And much as I hate to admit this, my love life has been a barren wasteland for at least a week.”

I was going to pretend I didn’t hear that. I was going with the assumption there was grain alcohol in the pink stuff. I jumped down, closed the tailgate, and got behind the wheel. I had no confidence that I could drag Mr. Cutie Pie across the street and into the municipal building if I parked in the lot, so I drove to the police station drop-off and asked for help.

• • •

Vinnie was in the office when Lula and I returned.

“I just brought Lewis Bugkowski in,” I said to Vinnie.

“He already cal ed,” Vinnie said. “He wants to get bonded out again, but he has no one to post the bond. His parents won’t put up any more money.

They said it’s bad enough they have to feed him.” Lula’s hand shot up. “I’l do it. I’l post the bond. Let me do it.”

“That’s a shame,” Connie said. “She was clean for so long.”

“It’s not drugs,” I said. “She’s developed this weird attachment to Buggy.”

“He’s adorable,” Lula said. “Like Shrek. I could just love him to pieces.”

“That’s wrong,” Connie said. “That’s very, very wrong.”

“I’m al excited,” Lula said. “I’m getting my first bondee. It’s like going to the animal shelter and adopting a kitten.”

“This isn’t a good idea,” Connie said. “Buggy isn’t a kitten. Buggy is a …”

“Dul ard?” I suggested. “Slackard, vil age idiot, leach on society, clod, brute, oaf, dumb ox, not to mention purse snatcher and car thief?”

“You be careful what you say about my honey,” Lula said. “And makin’ him my bondee is a perfectly good idea. I got a right to adopt a felon. I’m gonna take care of him, too.”

“How are you going to post bond?” Vinnie asked.

“Where are you going to come up with the money?

What are you going to put up as col ateral?”

“I got my Firebird,” Lula said.

We al gasped. Lula
loved
her Firebird.

“This is serious,” Connie said. “You need to take her to the clinic and get a blood test. Or maybe she just needs to go home and lay down for a while. She could be having some sort of reaction from al the sugar in the doughnuts.”

“I just got a big heart,” Lula said. “I got a heart of gold, and I recognize goodness in places it don’t seem to be. Like, you look at Lewis and you see apple-cider vinegar, and I see a big apple dumpling.”

“You never saw apple dumplings before,” Connie said.

“Wel , I got my eyes open now,” Lula said.

“Hal elujah. And on top of that, I’m takin’ love at first sight for a test-drive. I might have drinked a love potion.”

“I like it,” Vinnie said. “If Buggy goes AWOL, I get the Firebird. I could give it to DeAngelo, and he might not kil me.” Vinnie passed papers over to Lula. “Sign where I made a mark.”

Lula was on her feet. “I want to go with you when you get my sweet patooti released,” she said to Vinnie. “I want to take him home.”

“I need you to help me capture Joyce,” I said to Lula.

“No problem,” Lula said. “This won’t take long.

Soon as I get my honeybee out of jail, I’l help you with Joyce.”

I was gagging on the sweet-patooti, honeybee, adorable-apple-dumpling stuff, but I needed to get Joyce out of my apartment, and I needed the money from her capture.

“Excel ent,” I said. “We’l fol ow Vinnie to the police station, we’l spring Buggy, take him home, and go get Joyce.”

“WHAM!” Lula said.

I stepped outside and waved at Slasher and Lancer. They were parked across the street again.

“You lied to me!” Lancer yel ed. “You’re not going to heaven if you keep fibbing to people.” Vinnie took off in his Cadil ac, Lula and I fol owed, and Lancer and Slasher brought up the rear. Vinnie went straight, I turned right, and Lancer fol owed me.

I drove two blocks, turned left, and zipped through a traffic light. Lancer wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. He ran the light and got T-boned by a Jeep. I pul ed to the side to see if anyone was hurt.

“They al look okay,” Lula said, “but they don’t look happy.”

SEVENTEEN

I DROPPED LULA off at the municipal building and waited for her in the truck. I checked my mail on my phone and listened to some music. I was afraid to nap. With my luck, Raz would stumble on me. I’d been sitting there for almost an hour when Connie cal ed.

“Your friends are back across the street,” she said. “And their car is al bashed in. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. They tried to run a light and got T-boned.

Have a pizza delivered to them and put it on my tab.” Minutes later, Lula, Vinnie and Buggy walked out of the building. Vinnie jumped into his Caddy and sped away. Lula and Buggy got into my truck. Lula took the front seat, and Buggy wedged himself into the smal jump seat behind us.

“I don’t fit here,” he said. “I want to drive.”

“Here are your options,” I told him. “You can stay where you are, or you can walk.”

“
I want to drive
!”

“Isn’t he the cutest thing,” Lula said. “You should let him drive. He’s a real good driver.”

“How do you know?” I asked her.

“I could tel . And al the times he stole your car, he never wrecked it.”

“He’s not driving,” I said. “End of discussion.”

“I’l hold my breath,” Buggy said.

I cranked the engine over and looked at him in the rearview mirror. “Fine by me. I don’t care if you turn blue and die.”

“I always pee my pants when I hold my breath,” Buggy said.

“That’s endearin’,” Lula said. “I bet Shrek pees his pants, too.”

I cut my eyes to Lula. “He’s going to have to get out and ride in the back.”

“Sweetums, you want to ride in the back?” Lula asked.

“No. I want to drive.”

Lula rooted through her purse and found a Snickers bar. She got out of the truck and threw the Snickers bar into the back. “Go fetch,” she said.

Buggy rol ed out of the cab, ran around, climbed over the tailgate, and I stepped on the gas just as he wrapped his hand around the Snickers.

I took Broad to Hamilton, turned onto Pul ing, and stopped in front of the Bugkowski house. I stuck my head out my window and yel ed at Buggy. “You’re home. You can get out now.”

“Nuh-ah,” Buggy said.

“Isn’t that special,” Lula said. “He doesn’t want to leave me. We bonded real good.”

“And now you’re going to have to unbond because we need to bring Joyce in.”

“It’s just so sad to have to leave him,” Lula said.

She pul ed another Snickers bar out of her purse and threw it out the window onto the Bugkowski front lawn. Buggy bounded out of the truck bed, snatched up the Snickers, and I put my foot to the floor. Adios, muchacho.