“She reminds me of my abuela,” Angelica said affectionately. “I like her spunk.”
“Good grief,” Jimmy said. “Who is this bag of bones? Someone should’ve put her out of her misery a long time ago.”
“Go ahead,” Scarlet said. “Torture me. You can’t pull out my teeth. They already did that. I got implants. Good luck removing those suckers. Want to burn me with a hot poker? My whole body is just about numb.”
“Is it weird that I want to test her and see if she’s telling the truth?” Jimmy asked.
“A little,” Bruce said. “But I can see the appeal.”
“Now look,” Rosemarie said, her dance with Bruce starting to escalate. “I’ve still got all my teeth, and I’m not numb anywhere. Stop all that talk about torture, Scarlet. You’re a damn freak show.”
“Don’t mind her. She always lashes out when she’s upset,” Scarlet said.
Rosemarie screamed an energetic hi-yah and elbowed Bruce in the breadbasket, and then she brought her knee up and slammed his face into it while he was bent over gasping for breath.
“Dang,” I said.
“I need more girl friends,” Angelica said. “Yours are very entertaining. Where’d you get them?”
“You just pick them up from time to time,” I said. “Kind of like pocket lint.”
I was pretty impressed by my calm outward demeanor because I was kind of freaking out on the inside. I was trying to figure out how to keep the baby and everyone else safe, and I was coming up with a big fat nothing. We needed help, and we needed help fast.
“That’s it,” Bruce said, holding a hand over his nose that was gushing blood. “No more Mr. Nice Guy.”
I started to scream, but Bruce found some energy out of nowhere, and before I knew it, Rosemarie was on her stomach with Bruce’s knee in her back, and then he slapped handcuffs on her. I’d forgotten he’d spent thirty years as a cop, but there were obviously some skills you never lost.
“Toss me another pair of cuffs,” Jimmy said. “I don’t know why I can’t just shoot her.”
“You can’t shoot an old lady,” I yelled. “You’ll go straight to hell.”
Angelica crossed herself, and I refrained from rolling my eyes considering this whole mess started with her.
“Get those things away from me,” Scarlet said, dodging Jimmy. “I’ve got delicate wrists. I bruise too easy. If you’ve got to restrain me let me get the ones from my purse. I bought myself one of those BDSM kits on the internet, and the cuffs were real good quality, and real soft too.”
I think the only reason Jimmy didn’t stop her from digging in her purse was because he was paralyzed at the thought of Scarlet and anything to do with BDSM. I knew what was going to happen before she did it, and I reached behind my back and grabbed my gun just as Scarlet brought her .44 out of her handbag. It fired before it left her handbag all the way.
The sound was deafening and echoed off all the metal buildings, but what sent chills down my spine was the bloodcurdling, high-pitched scream.
It was nothing but pure chaos while I waited for the dust to settle to see who was still standing. I kept my gun pointed at Jimmy and Bruce, but watched Angelica out of my periphery. She hadn’t moved a muscle. She was standing back, as if she was waiting to see what happened before she got in on the action.
“Will you shut up,” Jimmy screamed at Bruce.
Bruce had dropped his gun and was hopping around on one foot. “She shot off my toes!” he yelled.
Rosemarie had flipped onto her back and was spinning around like a turtle on its shell as she tried to get to Bruce’s weapon, but she finally gave up and gave it a mighty kick so it went skidding across the pavement in the opposite direction.
The kick of the gun had blown Scarlet clear back against the wall. Her lip was split and bleeding and her Madonna wig had finally heaved its last breath and was lying on the ground like a drowned rat. Her real hair stood up in a shock of white.
Jimmy moved to lift his gun.
“Drop it!” I told him. “I’ll shoot.”
Jimmy paused long enough to look at Angelica for backup, but she just laughed—the kind of laugh that only the truly crazy could perfect—and she slowly walked a circle around us, eyeing each of us in turn like we were rats in a cage.
I heard the whump, whump, whump before the sound faded again.
“I’m telling you to stop that screaming, Bruce, or I’m going to be the one to shoot you next time,” Jimmy said.
He had the panicked look of a man who’d lost control of the situation and he was trying to figure out how to get it back. He was waving his gun between Scarlet and me and Angelica, keeping us all in check. Every time the gun passed over me my heart stopped.
We all froze as we heard the rev of an engine and the squeal of tires just before metal crashed against metal. There was another squeal of tires, and then an orange blur turned down our row and headed straight for us. We were all trapped between the Corvette and my mother in the General Lee.
I could see my mother clearly behind the windshield, and her eyes were wide as she caught sight of us and slammed on the brakes. The smell of burning rubber was overwhelming as the car door flung open and my mother hopped out, pumping her shotgun.
“Where’s my husband, you filthy tramp?” she asked. It would’ve been a lot more intimidating if she hadn’t been dressed for her Jazzercise class. There was something about leg warmers and shotguns that was a crime against nature.
“You would be amazed how many times I’ve been in this exact same situation,” Angelica said, staring at my mom.
“This isn’t the time for sass,” my mother said. “I’ve had it up
