“Watch that you don’t get his shoes onto my leather upholstery,” Lula said. “I just had it detailed.”
We hefted Chopper onto the backseat and did a high five.
“This is what I’m talking about,” Lula said, getting into the Firebird. “We’re on a roll now. It’s the bottle. You got it, right?”
I slid onto the passenger seat and clicked my seat belt in place. “It’s in my shoulder bag.”
Lula drove two blocks and pulled into a convenience store lot. “I got a idea. The bottle’s working for us, right?”
“I guess.”
“Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna go get a lottery ticket while we’re hot. I bet you anything we win a ton of money.”
“Who’s paying for the ticket?”
“You,” Lula said.
“I don’t think so.”
“I spent my last twenty on burgers.” Lula looked in the rearview mirror. “I bet Chopper got money.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
Lula unsnapped her seat belt and lurched out of the car. “It’s just borrowing. I’ll pay him back right away with our winnings.”
“What if we don’t win?”
“Of course we’ll win. You got the bottle.” Lula leaned over Chopper and came out with his wallet. She took a twenty and stuffed the wallet back into Chopper’s jacket pocket. “We’re just borrowing,” she told Chopper. “We’ll be right back.”
“There’s no we,” I said. “I want no part of this.”
“There you go with the scruples again. You gotta learn a real scruple from a worthless scruple.”
“We don’t steal from people we capture.”
“Borrow,” Lula said. “We’re borrowing. And it’s for a good cause. That always makes a difference.”
I had my arms crossed over my chest, holding firm.
“You’re gonna have to get out of the car and come with me,” Lula said. “You’re the one with the lucky bottle. And besides, I’m not getting back behind the wheel until we do this. And I’m gonna hold my breath, too.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” I said, unsnapping my seat belt. I got out of the car, slammed the door, and stomped into the store.
“We want lottery tickets,” Lula said to the clerk. “Here’s our borrowed twenty, which is okay because we got a lucky bottle. And we haven’t got time for the Powerball. We’re gonna take those five-dollar scratch things.”
Lula took her tickets and stepped back and started scratching. Nothing on the first ticket. Nothing on the second ticket. Nothing on the third ticket.
“This is it,” Lula said. “I can feel it. This here’s the lucky ticket.” She scratched the ticket and shrieked. “I won! I won! I knew I’d win. What did I tell you?”
I looked over her shoulder. “How much did you win?”
“Ten dollars.”
“I don’t want to rain on your parade, but you spent twenty to win ten.”
“Yeah, but I won. We need more money, now that we’re on a roll. This is just the beginning.”
“We haven’t got more money.”
“Chopper has money. His wallet was full of money. We just need to borrow more.”
“No!”
“Yeah, but how are we going to pay him back if we don’t borrow more?”
“I’ll mail it to him,” I said.
Lula handed her lottery ticket in and got her ten dollars.
“Hold on,” Lula said. “I need a cookie. I got a cookie craving.” Lula went to the cookie aisle and came back with a bunch of bags and boxes.
“That’s twelve-fifty,” the clerk said.
Lula looked at me.
I blew out a sigh, dug into my purse, and came up with two dollars and change.
“Now we can celebrate our winnings,” Lula said.
We took our cookies and went back to the Firebird.
“What the heck?” Lula said.
No Chopper.
“Did we put him in the trunk and I forgot?” Lula asked.
“He’s on foot, probably trying to get back to his car. Maybe we can catch him.”
Lula peeled out of the lot and drove the two blocks to Meat & Go. The black Lexus SUV was gone.
“Yeah, but you gotta look on the bright side,” Lula said. “We won the lottery.”
I took a package of Hostess Snowballs out of the plastic bag and stuffed one into my mouth.
“See if you can find him,” I said to Lula.
We cruised the other lunch locations, and Lula did a loop past Chopper’s apartment. No Lexus SUV parked there, either. He was most likely somewhere getting my cuffs removed.
“No disrespect intended. And I don’t mean to blaspheme your bottle. But I’m starting to think it sucks as a lucky bottle,” Lula said.
I was glad she felt that way, because between the bottle and my Smith & Wesson, my shoulder bag was giving me a neck cramp. I’d be more than happy to leave them home tomorrow.
Connie called on my cell phone. “I have some information on Butch Goodey,” she said.
I hoped the information was that he was seen boarding a plane for Antarctica. It wouldn’t bother me if I never saw Butch Goodey ever again. It was like trying to capture King Kong.
“I have a current address off his employment record, and I have siblings. You should have the siblings on his original bond document,” Connie said.
A current address. Crap. I hung up and slumped in my seat.
“What?” Lula wanted to know.
“Connie has a current address for Butch.”
“Crap,” Lula said. “I’m not liking any of these people we gotta catch. They’re too big and sneaky. And no one wants to get caught. On the other hand, the big dummy knocked me over, and I got a smudge on my skirt. I’m gonna have to take it to the cleaners. He should pay for that.”
“He lives on Keene Street, in one of those little row houses.”
“I’m on it,” Lula said.
FIFTEEN
THE WHITE TAURUS was parked at the curb in front of Butch’s row house. Originally, these were company houses for a company that made porcelain pipe. They were single-story, twelve units hooked together, maroon asbestos shingle roof and siding. No yard. No porch, front or back. Street parking. A little bleak, but the plumbing worked in almost all of them.
“We need a plan,” Lula said. “I don’t want to get knocked on my ass again.”
“The stun gun doesn’t work on him, so I’ll ring the bell, and when he answers, I’ll give him a blast with pepper spray. We’ll both step back to let the spray settle, and then we’ll wrap the FlexiCuffs on him.”
“If I have to shoot him, I’ll shoot him in the foot,” Lula said.
“No shooting!”
“You always say that.”
“Shooting isn’t good. It hurts people. It could get you in jail.”
Lula had her lower lip stuck out. Eyes narrowed. “He made me smudge my skirt.”
“You don’t shoot someone over a smudged skirt.”
“I was only gonna shoot him in the foot.”
