money is here. I didn’t take the time to look. I just stuffed everything in the bags and ran. I got there at a good time. The safe was open but empty. They were either getting ready to put the money away or move it.”
“I can’t believe we did this,” Lula said. “This was totally the shit. This was the bomb. And it don’t even look like we’re being followed.”
Connie and I turned and looked to make sure.
“I think we pulled it off,” Connie said.
And she giggled. And then Lula and I giggled. This was pretty weird, because we’re not necessarily gigglers, but men spit and scratch their nuts and do high-five hand slaps when they get away with stupid shit… and women giggle. I’m not sure which is worse, but I’m glad I’m not inclined to scratch myself in private places in public.
“We’re good,” Lula said. “How many bitches could steal all this money and not get caught? I’m telling you, I’m talking about a new career. We could be the Three Mouseketeers.”
“I think you mean Musketeers,” I said to Lula.
“Whatever. We could give ourselves a cool name, and we could do heists and capers. Only thing is, next time we gotta call a cab for Stephanie, so she doesn’t smell up the car. I’m glad we’re not in my Firebird.”
“I can’t help it,” I said. “I was stuck in the building. For that matter, you don’t smell like roses, either.”
“Me?” Lula said. “Are you telling me I stink?”
“Yeah.”
Connie cut her eyes to Lula. “She’s right. You reek.”
“I might have spilled some on my shoe,” Lula said. “You just filled up old olive bottles, and they didn’t pour perfect. Next time, you want to invest in a beaker or something with a spout.”
“I don’t want to hear about next time,” I said. “I’m retiring from a life of crime.”
“But we’re so good,” Lula said. “I bet we made ourselves millionaires.”
“Only for half a day. Tomorrow, the money goes back to Sunflower,” I told her.
“Oh yeah, I forgot for a minute,” Lula said. “Are we sure we want to do that? I could buy a lot of shoes that don’t smell bad with that money.”
There was silence while the thought hung in the car. Keeping the money had a lot of appeal. If we had the money, we wouldn’t actually need Vinnie or the bonds office. Unfortunately, there was Grandma Plum and Aunt Mim to consider. Not to mention the nagging need to do the right thing, and the fear that God would get me if I didn’t.
Lula pulled into the Cluck-in-a-Bucket drive-through, and we got a large tub of extra crispy, triple coleslaw, and biscuits.
“Now where to?” Lula wanted to know.
“To the office,” Connie said. “We need to count the money. Park the car in the back.”
There was an alley behind the office with parking for a couple cars. The back door led to the storeroom, and beyond the storeroom were banks of file cabinets. You could sneak in through the back door and not be seen, unless, of course, you walked through the front office, where Connie held court. Vinnie parked in the back because Vinnie was always hiding out from someone. Vinnie didn’t pay his bills on time. He messed around with married women. And he dated barnyard animals.
Lula parked Connie’s car, and we hauled the chicken and money and assorted weapons inside and locked the back door.
“Take it all into Vinnie’s inner office,” Connie said. “There aren’t any windows in there.”
I cleared Vinnie’s desk and dumped the money out.
“We need a system,” Connie said, helping herself to an extra crispy mystery piece of chicken. “First, let’s divide the money by amount. All the twenties over there in the corner. All the hundreds here by the desk. Just pile it up on the floor. Then we’ll use elastic bands to bundle them, so all the bundles are worth the same amount of money.”
Two hours later, the bucket of extra crispy was empty and we had all the money bundled, stacked, and counted.
“The latest demand was for one million three,” Connie said. “We have a little over one million two.”
“Ordinarily, Sunflower might be willing to make a deal,” Lula said, “but he just got robbed, and he’s probably in a bad mood now.”
“I’ll call him tomorrow,” Connie said. “I can’t imagine him not taking one million two.”
I looked at the pile of money heaped on Vinnie’s desk. “What are we going to do with this until tomorrow? It’s not going to fit in Vinnie’s safe.”
“We’ll put the stacks of high-denomination bills in the safe,” Connie said. “The rest can get hidden from view under his desk. I’ll lock Vinnie’s office door and set the alarm when we leave.”
I STOPPED AT the all-night supermarket on the way home and got everything on my list but bullets. I parked in the lot behind my apartment building, grabbed the grocery bags from the backseat, turned, and bumped into a rock-solid guy. Morelli.
“Jeez!” I said. “You scared the heck out of me. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“I didn’t sneak. You parked next to me and didn’t even notice.”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“Want to share it?”
I paused for a minute, hugging the bags to me, debating. “No,” I said. “I can’t.”
“You smell really bad,” Morelli said. “Like a stink bomb.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Where were you tonight?”
“I went out for dinner with Lula and Connie.”
“Someone set a stink bomb off in Bobby Sunflower’s funeral home,” Morelli said.
“And?”
“The only one I know who can build a stink bomb of that magnitude is Connie. She was in my graduating class in high school, and she was famous.”
“Why would Connie set off a stink bomb in Sunflower’s funeral home?”
“You tell me.”
Our eyes locked for a moment before I turned away. “Don’t know,” I said.
Morelli took the bags from me and walked me to the building. “That’s a fib.”
“It’s my story,” I said, “and I’m sticking to it.”
He held the door for me and followed me through the foyer and into the elevator.
“This could be a romantic moment if you smelled better,” he said.
I found it hard to believe a little stink would deter Morelli’s libido. Since becoming a bounty hunter, I’ve smelled like dog poop, garbage, blown-up funeral home, and monkey. It’s hard to believe stink bomb was any worse. The elevator doors opened, and Morelli tagged behind me.
“Here’s what’s confusing me,” he said. “I know Connie’s stink bombs pretty well, and you’re definitely smelling like a stink bomb, but there’s also a hint of fried chicken.”
“Cluck-in-a-Bucket,” I said. “Extra crispy.”
Morelli stopped in the middle of my hall. “Omigod. You’re the one who turned Mr. Jingles loose.”
I plugged the key into my lock and opened the door. “It wasn’t me, I swear.”
Morelli set the bags on my counter and helped himself to a beer. “Lula?”
“I’m not saying. Was anyone hurt? Did any dogs or cats get eaten?”
Morelli chugged some beer. “Negative. Mr. Jingles got caught without incident. Animal control went to serve Chopper with a ticket, and they said his door was open and there were grease stains all over his apartment and it smelled like fried chicken and alligator.”
“Go figure,” I said.
He lounged against the counter. “I don’t suppose I could persuade you to take a shower.”
“No persuading necessary. I can’t stand myself. I’m going to take a shower and throw my clothes away. It’s what might happen after the shower that would be a hard sell.”
“My specialty,” Morelli said. “I might even start the hard sell while you’re in the shower.”
“I thought you wanted to date other women.”
“I didn’t want to date other women. We decided in the heat of battle that we were no longer exclusively
