I took a giant step away from Lula and scanned the room. I walked down an aisle formed from crates of iceberg lettuce, turned the corner, and found Bollo off-loading a pallet of tomatoes.
“Gordo Bollo?” I asked.
“Who wants to know?”
“We want to know,” Lula said. “Who the heck do you think?”
I gave Bollo my card. “I represent your bail bondsman,” I told him. “You missed your court date, and you need to reschedule.”
“The whole thing is bogus,” he said. “My foot got stuck on the accelerator.”
“You run over that guy twice,” Lula said.
“Yeah, my foot got stuck twice. It was an accident.”
“It really doesn‘t matter,” I said to him. “You‘ll have a chance to explain all that if you‘ll just come with me to get a new date.”
“I can‘t go now. I‘m working.”
“These look like real nice tomatoes,” Lula said.
And then she sneezed and farted again.
“Cripes, lady,” Bollo said. “You just cut the cheese on the tomatoes.”
“I didn‘t do no such thing,” Lula said. “I was facing the other direction.” She turned and looked behind her. “I laid one on these grapefruits from Guatemala. And anyways, it‘s not my fault. I got bad juju going. I‘m waitin‘ on a call from Miss Gloria.”
“This won‘t take long,” I said to Bollo.
“I‘m not coming with you. Go away. Leave me alone.”
“I gotta get out of here,” Lula said. “There‘s something in here making my nose twitch.”
“Go out to the car. I‘ll be there in a minute.”
“You sure you don‘t need me?” Lula asked.
“I‘m sure!”
Bollo went back to sorting tomatoes.
“Listen up,” I said to him. “You are required by law to return to the court, and I‘m authorized to use force if necessary.”
“Oh yeah? Force this,” he said.
And he hit me square in the forehead with a tomato. I turned and SPLAT-I took another in the back of the head. By the time I reached the door, I‘d taken at least three more tomatoes.
“Uh-oh,” a Connie clone said when I staggered into the office. “Looks like you pissed Gordo off. That man could use some anger management.”
“I‘ll be back,” I told her. “How late does he work?”
“He‘ll be here until four.”
I left the office and settled myself behind the wheel of the Jeep.
“What the Sam Hill happened to you?” Lula wanted to know.
“Bollo needs anger management.”
“I‘d go shoot him or something for you, but I‘m waiting on Miss Gloria.”
I wheeled out of the lot, turned onto Broad, and Miss Gloria called Lula back.
“Yeah?” Lula said to Miss Gloria. “Un-hunh, un-hunh, un-hunh.”
“Well?” I asked her when she disconnected.
“It‘s my moons. Miss Gloria ran my numbers, and they didn‘t look so good, so then she did my chart, and it turns out my moons are all screwed up.”
“So?”
“I just gotta wait it out. She said I need to be extra careful during this time and not make any big decisions on account of they could be life changing and I could decide the wrong thing.”
“Because of your moons?”
“Yeah, and we‘re on the cusp of something right now, but cell reception wasn‘t good, so I didn‘t get it all.”
I parked curbside at the office and followed Lula through the front door.
“Omigod,” Connie said. “What happened? Is that blood?”
“Tomatoes.”
“Gordo Bollo had issues with takin‘ a ride with us,” Lula said.
“I need cuffs and pepper spray and a stun gun,” I told Connie.
“You haven‘t got any?”
“She lost them when someone stole her purse at the mall last week,” Lula said. “I was with her. One minute, we were in the food court, eating pizza, and next thing, she didn‘t have no purse. Lucky she just paid for the pizza, and she had her wallet in her pocket, or she wouldn‘t have no credit cards.”
“Take what ever you need,” Connie said.
I got myself outfitted, and walked outside into the midday sunshine. A black Porsche turbo slid to a stop behind my Jeep, and Ranger angled out from behind the wheel and stood hands on hips, looking me over.
“Babe,” Ranger said. And he almost smiled.
Ranger dresses in black. The rest of him comes in varying shades of brown. Silky dark brown hair, light brown skin, and brown eyes that are more often than not hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. He‘s two months older than I am and years ahead in life experience. He‘s a security expert and part own er of Rangeman, a protective ser vices company located in a stealth town house in center city.
“Tomatoes,” I said by way of explanation.
“Do you need help?”
“No. But thanks for asking.”
“Diesel is back,” Ranger said.
“Yes. How did you know?”
“I woke up with a migraine this morning.” Ranger picked a chunk of tomato out of my hair. “Word on the street is that you‘re looking for Munch, and Munch is looking for pure barium. And he‘s willing to pay serious money. There are a couple vendors who deal in this sort of thing. Solomon Cuddles and Doc Weiner. If you watch one of these guys, you might run into Munch. You can find Cuddles at the mall somewhere between the food court and the Gap. Weiner operates out of the Sky Social Club on Stark. Don‘t go in there alone. In fact, don‘t go in there at all.”
“Why would Munch want barium?”
“I don‘t know. It‘s commonly used in X-ray imaging. And it‘s useful in making certain kinds of superconductors. I‘m sure it has other uses, but I‘m not a barium expert.”
A shiny black SUV rolled to a stop behind Ranger‘s Porsche. Tank was in Rangeman black fatigues behind the wheel, and Hal was next to him.
“I have to go,” Ranger said. “Try not to stand too close to Diesel. He has some bad enemies. You don‘t want to get caught in the cross fire.”
SEVEN
DIESEL OPENED THE door to my apartment before I had a chance to plug my key in.
“Did you feel my sensory imprint approaching?” I asked him.
“No. I was looking out the window, and I saw you pull into the parking lot. What‘s with the tomatoes?”
“Uncooperative FTA. I tried to take him down in a produce ware house.”
“If we put some mayo on you, I could eat you for lunch. Which reminds me… there‘s no food here.”
“That‘s because you and your monkey have eaten it all.”
“Hey, he‘s not my monkey,” Diesel said.
“Speaking of the monkey, where is he?”
“I think he‘s in the bathroom.”
I heard the toilet flush, the bathroom door banged open, and Carl walked into the living room. He waved at me, climbed onto the couch, and remoted the tele vision on.
“Did you wash your hands?” I asked him.
He held his hands above his head and gave me the finger.
“He‘s not normal,” I said to Diesel.
“And?”
“I need to take a shower.”
“I‘m going to use your Jeep to do some shopping. Do you want anything special for lunch?”
“Anything but tomatoes. My keys are in my bag in the foyer.”
“Thanks, but I don‘t need keys.”
A half hour later, I pulled my clean hair into a ponytail and dressed in jeans and a black V-neck stretchy T-shirt. Diesel was still out, so I checked in with Morelli.
“How‘s it going?” I asked.
“Would you consider getting married and moving far away from my family? Maybe France or Phoenix?”
“Not working out with your brother?”
“I‘m locking my gun in my car when I get home so I‘m not tempted to shoot him. He‘s an even bigger slob than I am. I‘ve got empty beer cans all over the house, and he‘s only been with me for twenty-four hours. Last night, I took him bowling, and he hit on everything that moved and was remotely female. And by the time we got home, he was crying because he missed his wife. Crying! Then he watched tele vision until three in the morning and charged two porn films on my cable account.”
“You need to talk to him.”
“My brother? Are you kidding?”