Banker's.' And I took off after Banker, pushing around Beverly, following Banker out the back door. Banker was running fast, long legs gobbling up ground. He jumped a section of chain-link arid disappeared around the end of the building. I scrambled to follow and got snagged on a piece of wire as I cleared the top of the fence.
I ripped myself free and kept going. Banker was maybe half a block ahead of me, but I had him in view. He was on the street, doubling back, running toward his car. And he was slowing down. Good thing, too, because I was dying. I really needed to do more aerobics. The only time I actually worked out was when I was in bed with Morelli. And even then I spent a lot of time on my back.
Lula was between Banker and the car. She was in the road, looking like a big pissed-off bull about to charge. If I was Banker I would have thought long and hard about getting around Lula, but I guess Banker didn't feel like he had a lot of options, because he never broke stride. Banker ran straight on, into Lula. There was a sound like a basketball hitting against a brick wall. Lula went on her ass, and Banker bounced back about five feet.
I tackled him from behind, and we both went down. I had cuffs in my hand, and I was trying to grab a wrist, but Banker was flailing around.
'Help me!' I yelled to Lula. 'Do something.'
'Out of my way,' Lula said.
I rolled free of Banker, and Lula sat down hard on him, simultaneously expelling every molecule of air out of both ends of Banker's body.
'Oooff,' Banker said. And then he went dead still, spread-eagled on his back, looking like roadkill.
I cuffed him, and stood free. His eyes were open but glazed, and he was breathing shallow.
'Blink if you're okay,' I said.
'Fuck,' Banker whispered.
'Well, what were you thinking?' Lula asked down at him, hands on hips. 'You don't just run into a woman like that. Didn't you see me standing there? I got a mind to sit on you again. I could squash you like a bug if I wanted.'
'I think I messed myself,' Banker said.
'Then you aren't riding in my car,' Lula told him. 'You can walk your sorry behind all the way to the police station.'
I hauled Banker up onto his feet and searched his pockets for his car keys. I found the keys plus twenty dollars. 'Give the money to Beverly,' I told Lula. 'I'll drive him to the station in his car, and you can follow.'
'Sure,' Lula said.
I dragged Banker to the crappy car parked curbside and turned to Lula. 'You're going to wait for me at the police station, right?'
'Are you implying I don't always wait?'
'You never wait.'
'I can't help it. I got a thing about police stations. It's from my troubled past.'
An hour later I had Banker securely behind bars, and I had the body receipt in my hand, guaranteeing that Vinnie wouldn't be out his bond money. I searched the parking lot, but I couldn't find Lula. Big surprise. I called her cell phone. No answer. I tried the office.
'Sorry,' Connie said. 'She's not here. She stopped in to say that you had Banker, but then she took off again.'
Great. I had half the ass ripped out of my jeans, my shirt was covered with grass stains, and I didn't even want to think about the state of my hair. I was standing in the middle of the public parking lot across from the police station, and I had no car. I could call my father. I could call Morelli. I could call a cab. Problem was, they were all a temporary fix. When I woke up tomorrow I would be back to square one with no car.
Of course there was still one more choice available to me.
Ranger's truck. It was big and black and brand new. It came fully loaded with all sorts of toys and customized options. And it smelled like expensive new leather and Ranger… an aroma second only to chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven. Too bad there were a lot of really good reasons not to use the truck. At the top of the list was the fact that Joe would be nuts.
My cell phone chirped in my bag. It's me,' Connie said. 'Vinnie just left for the day, and his last directive was that you're responsible for Carol Cantell. He doesn't want any screw-ups.'
'Sure,' I said. 'You can count on me.' I disconnected, blew out a sigh, and dialed Ranger's man, Tank. The conversation with Tank was short. Yes, Ranger had given him instructions to turn the truck over to me. Delivery would take about twenty minutes.
I put the time to good use by rationalizing my actions. I had no choice. I had to take the truck, right? How else would I do my job?
And if I didn't do my job I wouldn't get paid. And then I wouldn't be able to make my rent payment. True, my sister was paying the rent these days on my apartment, and I was living rent-free with Morelli. But that could change at any moment. Suppose Valerie suddenly moved out?
What then? And it wasn't as if I was married to Morelli. We could have a big fight, and I could be on my own again. In fact, now that I was getting the truck a big fight was almost a certainty. This was an exhausting thought. Life was fudging complicated.
The truck arrived exactly on time, followed by the black SUV. Tank got out of the truck and handed me the keys. To say that Tank is a big guy is oversimplification. Tank is a tank.
His freshly shaved head looks buffed up with Pledge. His body is perfectly toned and fat free. His ass is tight. It's rumored that his morals are loose. And his black T-shirt looks painted onto him.
Hard to tell what Tank thinks of me. Or, for that matter, if Tank thinks at all.
'Call me if there's a problem,' Tank said. Then he got into the
SUV and took off.
Just like that… I had a truck. Not just any old truck, either. This was a wicked, bad-ass, four-door supercrew with oversized cast aluminum wheels, a whole herd of horses under the hood, tinted windows, and GPS. Not to mention a slew of gadgets about which I was clueless.
I'd ridden with Ranger, and I knew he always had a gun tucked away, hidden from view. I climbed behind the wheel, felt under the seat, and found the gun. If it had been my truck and my gun, I'd have removed the gun. Ranger left it in place. Trusting.
I cautiously turned the key in the ignition and eased the truck into the flow of traffic. The Buick drove like a refrigerator with wheels. The truck drove like a monster Porsche. I decided if I was going to drive the truck I was going to need a whole new wardrobe.
My clothes weren't cool enough. And I needed more basic black.
And I should trade in my sneakers for boots. And probably I needed sexier underwear… a thong, maybe.
I crossed town, drove a couple blocks on Hamilton, and slipped into the Burg. I was taking the long way home to Joe's house. Always procrastinate the unpleasant. Morelli wouldn't be happy about me going off with Lula, but he'd understand. Going off with Lula when he'd asked me to stay in the house would generate the sort of anger that could be worked off with a half hour of vicious channel surfing.
The truck was going to provoke a full-blown contest of wills.
I turned the corner onto Slater and felt my heart roll over in my chest. Morelli was home. His SUV was parked in front of the house. I lined up behind the SUV and told myself it might not be so bad. Morelli was a reasonable guy, right? He'd see that I had no choice. I had to take Ranger's truck. It was the sensible thing to do. And besides, it was my business. Just because you lived with someone didn't mean they ran your life. I didn't tell Morelli how to conduct his business, did I? Well, okay, maybe once in a while I stuck my nose in there. But he never listened to me! That's the important point here.
Problem was, it wasn't actually about the truck. It was about Ranger. Morelli knew he might not be able to help me if I was standing next to Ranger when Ranger was operating outside the law. And Morelli had enough of his own wild years to understand the feral side of Ranger's sexuality. Another good reason not to have me standing too close to Ranger.
I swung out of the truck, beeped it locked, and marched up to the house. I opened the door, and Bob rushed up to me and bounced around. I gave him some hugs and got some Bob slobber on my jeans. I didn't mind about the slobber. It seemed like a small price to pay for unconditional love. And besides, you could hardly notice the slobber mixed in with the grass and dirt stains and God knew what else. Bob sniffed at the God knew what else and backed
