Hot Six

'So what about it?' Grandma said to Vinnie. 'Do I get the job?'

'No can do, Edna. Not that I wouldn't want to help you out, but being a bounty hunter takes a lot of special skills.'

'I have skills,' Grandma said. 'I can shoot and cuss and I'm real nosy. And besides, I've got some rights. I've got a right to employment.' She gave Vinnie the squinty eye. 'I don't see where you got any old people working for you. That don't look like equal opportunity to me. You're discriminating against old people. I've got a mind to get the AARP after you.'

'The AARP is the American Association of Retired People,' Vinnie said. 'The 'R' stands for 'Retired.' They don't care about old people working.'

'Okay,' Grandma said, 'how about this? How about, if you don't give me a job I'll sit on that couch over there until I starve to death.'

Lula sucked in a breath. 'Whoah, hardball.'

'I'll think about it,' Vinnie said. 'I'm not promising anything, but maybe if the right thing comes in…' He ducked back into his office and closed and relocked the door.

'Well, that's a start,' Grandma said. 'I gotta go now and see how Melvina's doing. We have a big afternoon planned. We have some apartments to look at and then we're going to stop in for Stiva's afternoon viewing. Madeline Krutchman just got laid out, and I hear she looks real good. Dolly did her hair, and she said she gave her a tint to add some color around her face. She said if I like it, she could do it for me too.'

'Rock on,' Lula said.

Grandma and Lula did one of those complicated handshakes, and Grandma left.

'Anything new on Ranger or Homer Ramos?' I asked Connie.

Connie opened a bottle of top coat for her nails. 'Ramos was popped at close range. Some people are saying it smells like an execution.'

Connie comes from a family that knows a lot about executions. Jimmy Curtains is her uncle. I don't know his real last name. All I know is if Jimmy is looking for you… it's curtains. I grew up hearing stories about Jimmy Curtains like other kids heard stories about Peter Pan. Jimmy Curtains is famous in my neighborhood.

'How about the police? What's their angle today?' I asked.

'They're looking for Ranger, big time.'

'As a witness?'

'As far as I can tell, as an anything.'

Connie and Lula looked at me.

'Well?' Lula asked.

'Well, what?'

'You know well, what.'

'I'm not sure, but I don't think he's dead,' I said. 'Just a feeling I've got.'

'Hah!' Lula said. 'I knew it! Were you naked when you got this feeling?'

'No!'

'Too bad,' Lula said. 'I would have been naked.'

'I have to go,' I said. 'I need to give Mooner the bad news about the wind machine.'

THE GOOD THING about the Mooner is that he's almost always home. The bad thing is that, while his house is occupied, his head is frequently vacant.

'Oh, wow,' he said, answering the door. 'Did I forget my court date again?'

'Your court date is two weeks from tomorrow.'

'Cool.'

'I need to talk to you about the wind machine. It's sort of dented. And it's missing a rear light. But I'll fix it.'

'Hey, don't worry about it, dude. These things happen.'

'Maybe I should talk to the owner.'

'The Dealer.'

'Yeah, the dealer. Where's he located?'

'He's at the end row house. He's got a garage, dude. Can you dig it? A garage.' Since I'd just spent the winter scraping ice off my windshield, I could appreciate Mooner's garage excitement. I thought a garage was a pretty wondrous thing, too.

The end row house was about a quarter-mile away so we drove.

'Do you think he'll be home?' I asked Mooner when we got to the end of the block.

'The Dealer's always home. He's gotta be there to deal.'

I rang the bell, and Dougie Kruper opened the door. I went to school with Dougie but hadn't seen him in years. In fact, I'd heard a rumor that he'd moved to Arkansas and died.

'Jeez, Dougie,' I said, 'I thought you were dead.'

'Naw, I just wished I was dead. My dad got transferred to Arkansas, so I went with them, but I'm telling you, Arkansas was no place for me. No action, you know what I mean? And if you want to go to the ocean it takes days.'

'Are you the dealer?'

'Yessiree. I'm the Dealer. I'm the man. You want something. I got it. We make a deal.'

'Bad news, Dougie. The wind machine was in an accident.'

'Girl, the wind machine is an accident. Seemed like a good idea at the time, but I can't unload it on anyone. Soon as you brought it back I was gonna push it off a bridge. Unless, of course, you want to buy it.'

'It doesn't actually suit my purposes. It's too memorable. I need a car that disappears.'

'A stealth car. The Dealer might have such a vehicle,' Dougie said. 'Come around back, and we'll take a look- see.'

Around back was wall-to-wall cars. There were cars on the road, and cars in his yard, and a car in his garage.

Dougie led me to a black Ford Escort. 'Now this here is a genuine disappearing car.'

'How old is it?'

'I don't exactly know, but it's got a few miles on it.'

'Isn't the year on the title?'

'This particular car doesn't have a title.'

Hmm.

'If you need a car with a title, that would adversely effect the price,' Dougie said.

'How adversely?'

'I'm sure we can come to terms. After all, I'm the Dealer.'

Dougie Kruper was the big geek of my graduating class. He didn't date, and he didn't do sports, and he didn't eat like a human being. His greatest accomplishment in high school was being able to suck Jell-O into his nose through a straw.

Mooner was walking around laying his hands on the cars, divining karma. 'This is it,' he said, standing by a small khaki-colored jeep. 'This car has protective qualities.'

'You mean like a guardian angel?'

'I mean, like, it has seat belts.'

'Does this car come with a title?' I asked Dougie. 'Does it run?'

'I'm pretty sure it runs,' Dougie said.

THIRTY MINUTES LATER I had two new pairs of jeans and a new watch, but no new car. Dougie was also willing to make a deal on a microwave, but I already had one.

It was early in the afternoon, and the weather wasn't terrible, so I walked to my parents' house and borrowed Uncle Sandor's '53 Buick. It was free, and it ran, and it had a title. I told myself it was a very cool car. A classic. Uncle Sandor had bought it new, and it was still in prime condition, which was more than could be said for Uncle Sandor, who was deep in the ground. Powder blue and white with gleaming chrome portholes and a big V-8 engine. I hoped I'd have my insurance money by the time Grandma got her license and needed the Buick. I hoped the