with the Lovelies, but it's pretty cool.'
'What's with the assault charge?'
'It's bogus, man. I was having a discussion with this dude and all of a sudden he started coming on to me. And I was 'Hey, man, that's not where I live,' you know. I mean, okay, so I was wearing a dress, but that's my professional persona. Wearing a dress is my thing. It's my trademark now. Sure, I was playing support for a rap group, but people still expect me to be in a pretty dress. I'm Sally Sweet, you know? I got a reputation.'
'I could see where it might be confusing,' Grandma said.
I was trying hard not to look appalled. 'So you hit him?'
'Only once… with my guitar. Knocked him on his keister.'
'Holy cow,' I said. 'Was he hurt bad?'
'No. But I broke his glasses. The guy was such a pussy. He started it all, and then he reported it to the police. He said I hit him for no reason. Called me a drugged-out guitar player.'
'Were you drugged out?'
'No way. Sure, I smoke weed between sets, but everybody knows weed doesn't count as drugs if you're a guitar player. And I'm real careful. I buy organic. I only do natural drugs, you know. It's okay if they're natural. Natural weed, natural 'shrooms…'
'I didn't know that,' Grandma said.
'It's a fact,' Sally told her. 'I think it might even be union rules that guitar players have to do weed between sets.'
'That makes sense,' Grandma said.
'Yeah,' I said, 'That would explain a lot.'
Sally was out of costume, wearing jeans and ratty sneakers and a faded Black Sabbath T-shirt. He was over six feet tall in flats and close to seven in heels. He had a large hook nose, and he had a lot of black hair… everywhere. He was an okay guy, but he was without a shadow of a doubt the ugliest drag queen in the tristate area. I couldn't imagine any man in his right mind coming on to Sally.
'Why didn't you show up for your court date?' I asked Sally.
'I had to drive the little dudes. It was a school day. I take this job very seriously.'
'And you forgot?'
'Yeah,' he said. 'I fucking forgot.' He closed his eyes and smacked his head with the heel of his hand. 'Darn.' He was wearing a thick elastic band around his left wrist. He snapped the elastic against his wrist and yelped. 'Ow!'
Grandma and I both did raised eyebrows.
'I'm trying to quit cussing,' Sally said. 'The little dudes were getting detention for talking trash mouth after getting off my bus. So my boss gave me this elastic band, and I have to snap it every time I cuss.'
I looked down at his wrist. It was solid red welts. 'Maybe you should think about getting a different job.'
'No fucking way. Oh shit! Damn.'
Snap, snap, snap.
'That's gotta hurt,' Grandma said.
'Yeah, it hurts like a bitch,' Sally said.
Snap.
If I brought Sally in now he'd have to overnight and wait for the courts to open before Vinnie could bond him out again. He didn't look like much of a threat to flee, so I decided to give him a break and bring him in during business hours. 'I have to get you rebonded,' I said to Sally. 'We can arrange a time between bus runs.'
'Wow, that would be awesome. I always have a couple hours off in the middle of the day.'
Grandma looked at her watch. 'We better get a move on if we want to get to the funeral home on time.'
'Hey, rock on,' Sally said. 'Who's laid out?'
'Lorraine Schnagle. I went earlier today but they had the lid down on the casket.'
Sally made a sympathetic sound. Tsk. 'Don't you hate that?'
'Drives me nuts,' Grandma said. 'So I'm going back, hoping the lid will be up for the night viewing.'
Sally had his hands in his pockets, and he was nodding his head like a bobble-head doll. 'I hear you. Give my best to Lorraine.'
Grandmas face lit. 'Maybe you want to come with us. Even with the lid down it should be a good viewing. Lorraine was real popular. The place will be packed. And Stiva always puts out cookies.'
'I could do that,' Sally said, still bobbing. 'Just give me a second to get more dressed up.'
Sally disappeared into the bedroom, and I made a deal with God that I'd try to be a nicer person if only Sally didn't return in sling-back heels and a gown.
When Sally reappeared he was still wearing the faded T-shirt, jeans, and ratty sneakers but he'd added dangly rhinestone earrings and a vintage tuxedo jacket. I felt like God hadn't totally come through for me, but I was willing to take a shot at honoring the deal anyway.
We all piled into the Buick and headed across town to Stiva's.
'I'm hungry,' Grandma said. 'I wouldn't mind having a burger.
We haven't got a lot of time, though, so maybe we could do a drive-by.'
A quarter mile later I swung into the drive-thru lane of a McDonald's and ordered a bag of food. A Big Mac, fries, and a chocolate shake for Grandma. Cheeseburger and Coke for me. A chicken Caesar salad and Diet Coke for Sally.
'I have to watch my weight,' Sally said. 'I have this to-die-for red gown, and I'd be pissed if I fucking grew out of it.' He grimaced.
'Oh shit.' Snap, snap, snap.
'Maybe you should try not to talk,' Grandma said, 'You're gonna give yourself a blood clot with all that snapping.'
I handed the bag of food over to Grandma for distribution and pulled forward. A guy dressed out in a black do- rag, homeboy jeans, new basketball shoes, and a lot of gold jewelry that flashed in the overhead streetlight exited the McDonald's and headed for a car with a high bling rating. It was a brand-new black Lincoln Navigator with gleaming chrome wheel covers and black tinted windows. I rolled closer to get a better look and confirmed my suspicion. It was Red Devil. He was carrying a huge bag of food plus a drink holder with four cups.
Now I know the Red Devil's held up fourteen deli-marts, and I personally saw him toss a flaming Molotov cocktail into a store. So on the one hand, I had to think that this was a bad guy. Problem was, it was hard to take someone seriously when he was going around doing his robbing wearing a cheap rubber mask, riding on a mountain bike.
'Hey!' I shouted at him. 'Wait a minute. I want to talk to you.'
When I got close enough to talk, I was going to reach out and choke him until he turned blue. I didn't care all that much about his deli-mart robbing career, but I was really unhappy about my yellow Escape.
He stopped and stared at me and suddenly placed me. 'You!' he said. 'You're one of the dumb bitches who trashed my bike.'
'You're calling me dumb?' I yelled back at him. 'You're the one going around robbing stores dressed up in a stupid mask, riding a lad's bike. I bet you're too dumb to get a driver's license.'
'Dumb bitch,' he said again. 'Dumb punk-ass bitch.'
The passenger side door opened on the Navigator, and I could hear guys laughing inside the car. Red Devil got in, slammed the door shut, and the car came to life.
I was itching to jump out of the Buick, run over to the SUV, wrench the door open, and drag the devil guy out of the car. Since, by my cup tally, there most likely were at least three other people in the Lincoln, and they might all have guns, and they might be cranky about me ruining their dinner, I decided to go with the more conservative plan of getting the license plate number and following at a respectful distance.
'Was that the devil bandit?' Grandma wanted to know.
I said, 'Yes.'
Grandma sucked in some air. 'Let's get him! Ram him from behind, and then when he stops we'll drag him out of the car.'
'I can't do that. I have no authority to capture him.'
'Okay, so we don't capture him. How about we just kick him a couple times after we get him out of the
