'There!' Sally yelped. 'She's coming!'
We scrunched down in our seats, but it wasn't necessary. Mrs. Nowicki was parked in the front on the other side of the lot. And she wasn't being careful. Just another day in the life of a housewife. Out to do the marketing, scoring some dope from Businessman Bernie.
She was driving an old, beat-up Escort. If she was flush with funny money, she sure wasn't spending it on transportation. I let her get some space on me, and then I crept out of the lot after her. After a half mile I had a depressing feeling about her destination. After another half mile I was sure. She was going home. Maxine wasn't Albert Einstein, but I also didn't think she was dumb enough to hide out at her mother's house.
Mrs. Nowicki parked in front of her house and shuffled inside. If I thought Maxine was on the premises I had the right as a bounty hunter to break down the door and go in guns drawn. I wasn't going to do this because, first off, I didn't have a gun with me. And secondly, I'd feel like an idiot.
'Guess it wouldn't hurt to talk to her,' I said.
Sally and I knocked on the door and Mrs. Nowicki stepped into view. 'Look what the cat drug in,' she said.
'How's your head?' This was my friendly approach, designed to throw drunken, pothead Mrs. Nowicki off guard.
She drew on her cigarette. 'My head's peachy. How's your car?'
So much for friendly. 'The insurance company felt sorry for me, so they gave me this Porsche.'
'Yeah, up your ass,' she said. 'The Porsche belongs to the freak.'
'Seen Maxine lately?'
'Not since she took off at the beach.'
'You left the house early.'
'Got tired of sand,' Maxine said. 'What's it to you?'
I moved past her, into her living room. 'You don't mind if I look around?'
'You got a search warrant?'
'Don't need one.'
Her eyes followed me as I moved through the house. 'This is harassment.'
It was a small bungalow. All on one floor. Easy to see Maxine wasn't there. 'Looks like you're packing.'
'Yeah, I'm cleaning out my Dior stuff. I decided I was only wearing Versace from now on.'
'If you see Maxine . . .'
'Right. I'm gonna call you.'
There was an end table and chair by the door. A .38 had been placed on the end table.
'You think you need that?' I asked.
Mrs. Nowicki stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray by the gun. 'Doesn't hurt to be careful.'
We got back in the car and my pager beeped, displaying my mother's number.
Grandma answered my callback. 'We just wanted to know if you'll be home for dinner,' Grandma said.
'Probably.'
'And what about Sally?'
'Sally, too.'
'I saw he was wearing rhinestones when he went out today. You think I should get dressed up for supper?'
'Not necessary.'
I took off and drove back to the supermarket. I had one last detail to check out with Bernie.
Sally and I staggered through the heat into the air-conditioned store. Bernie was ripping leaves off heads of lettuce when he saw us. His eyes got round, and by the time we got up to him, he was jiggling around, unable to stand still.
'Oh man,' Bernie said, 'you're back! Holy cow!' He was beaming at Sally, and he was wringing his hands. 'I thought I recognized you, but I wasn't sure. And then when I saw you just now I knew! You're Sally Sweet! Jeez, I'm a big fan. A
'Sugar's a guy,' I said.
'Get out!'
'Hey,' I said. 'I know about these things.'
'Oh yeah. I forgot. You look so normal.'
'Did Francine Nowicki pay you with another twenty?'
'Yep. I got it right here.' He took it out of his shirt pocket. 'And I did what you said. I only gave her a couple pieces of fruit. Too bad, too, because I could have made a real killing. She had a lot of money on her. She took out a roll of twenties big enough to choke a horse.'
