“This comes on you every time you see Tank.”

“It never used to.”

Lula’s hard-working, low-income neighborhood was bordered by a slackard, no-income neighborhood. Since there were no legal drugs to be had in the no-income neighborhood, I drove back toward Hamilton and Broad, where there were a couple all-night con ve nience stores. I stopped at the first store with lights blazing, and Lula lurched out of the Jeep and went inside.

Lula was wearing big, pink, fluffy slippers, pink sweatpants, and a white down-filled quilted coat. A red flannel nightgown hung two inches under the coat. Her hairstyle was yikes.

It was almost six A.M. Morelli and Ranger would be up. Diesel was most likely still asleep. Diesel wasn’t a morning person. I dialed Morelli’s cell phone while I waited for Lula.

“Yo,” Morelli said. “What’s up?”

“Just calling to say hello.”

“That’s a relief. I was afraid your apartment was fire-bombed again. You’re not usually up this early.”

“Lula is sick, and I had to take her out on a drug run.”

“Maybe you can bring some over for me. I’m ready to start taking Anthony’s happy pills.”

“Is he feeling any better?”

“He’s bitching less when he goes to the can. Did you really tell him to get his broken ass out to the kitchen and get his own ice cream?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re my hero,” Morelli said.

“Do you want me to take phone calls again today?”

“Thanks, but no. I can manage Anthony today. I do have another huge favor though. Do you suppose you could talk to his wife? Maybe you can get her to take him back.”

“You’re kidding. What on earth would I say? He’s a womanizing, cheating, perverted idiot. My advice to her is to run like hell and don’t look back.”

“Cripes, Stephanie, I’m trying to get rid of this guy. Help me out here. Lie. You do it all the time on your job. You’re good at it.”

“You want me to lie to your sister-in-law?”

“Hell, yes!”

“Okay, I’ll try to find time to talk to her.”

Lula wrenched the door open, and I said good-bye to Morelli.

“I got a bag full of stuff,” Lula said, holding the bag open for me to see. “Pick one for me.”

I chose one that was for allergies.

“Tank is probably up by now,” I said. “Do you want to stop in and get your purse?”

“Yeah, that would be great. I need my car keys.”

“Where does Tank live?”

“He’s in a house on Howard Street, two blocks from Cluck-in-a-Bucket.”

Good deal. There was a Dunkin’ Donuts alongside Cluck-in-a-Bucket. I was ready to kill for coffee, and I wouldn’t mind a couple dozen doughnuts, either.

I pointed the Jeep in the right direction and drove with renewed motivation. Lula took a pill from the box I picked and then sampled a couple more meds.

“You should go easy on that,” I said. “I don’t think it’s good to mix and match.”

“I figure I’ll keep taking them until I find one that works.”

“They don’t work right away. You have to give them a chance.”

“I don’t have all day for some dumb pill. I got things to do. I got no patience for this.”

“If you stop taking pills, I’ll get you a bag of doughnuts and a nice greasy breakfast sandwich.”

“I like the sound of that. And we could get some of them home fries, too.”

“Right. Home fries. And coffee. Lots of coffee.”

“I feel better already,” Lula said.

I drove to Tank’s house first. It was a small yellow-and-white Cape Cod. Far from what I would imagine for Tank. It had a tiny front yard and a front porch with a white railing. It was a total little-old-lady house.

“You sure this is the right house?” Lula asked. “This don’t look like no Tank house.”

“This is the address you gave me.”

Lula set her bag of cold aids on the floor, got out of the Jeep, and walked to the front door. She rang the bell and looked in the front window. She rang the bell a second time, and Tank opened the door. He was dressed in Range-man black, ready to go to work. Hard to see his expression from where I sat, but he had to be surprised. Not only was Lula on his doorstep unannounced, she looked like she’d just escaped from the electroshock room of the loony bin.

Lula went into his house, and he closed the door. Minutes later, the door banged open, and Lula stormed out. She had her purse in her hand, and she was wasting no time getting to the Jeep. She ripped the door open and rammed herself into the car.

“I need food,” she said. “A lot of it.”

Hard to tell what that meant. Lula ate when she was pissed off, happy, sad, tired, or bored. Food solved it all for Lula.

“Dunkin’ Donuts okay?” I asked.

“It’s perfect. I love Dunkin’ Donuts.” And then she sneezed and farted. “Excuse me,” she said.

“Well?” I asked her. “Was Tank responsible for that sneeze?”

“He’s got cats! Three of them. Suzy, Miss Kitty, and Applepuff. It’s no wonder I’m dying here. I’m allergic to cats.”

“I thought you said you weren’t allergic to anything.”

“Yeah, except for cats.”

“I didn’t know Tank had cats.”

“He said that’s why he moved. He adopted this family of cats, and he couldn’t keep them at Rangeman. So I told him I was allergic to cats, and he was gonna have to make a choice.”

“And then what happened?”

“He said he couldn’t get rid of the cats on account of they didn’t have any other home. He said I should get allergy shots.”

“And?”

“I’m not getting no allergy shots for a man who chooses a cat over me.”

“What are you going to do? Is the wedding off?”

“I don’t know. I gotta call Miss Gloria. She always said my numbers weren’t so good with Tank’s anyway. And our moons didn’t line up, either. I should have listened to her right from the start.”

I pulled into the Dunkin’ Donuts lot and parked.

“Maybe you should go in and get the stuff,” Lula said. “Tank wasn’t real complimentary about my appearance.”

“What did he say?”

“He said I was scarin’ his cats.”

“Shouldn’t you be crying or something?”

“I guess, but I don’t feel like crying. I feel like eating,” Lula said.

“What do you want?”

“Everything.”

“You got it.”

I gave my order in and waited while the food and coffee were gathered together and bagged.

“Office party?” the girl behind the counter asked.

“No,” I told her. “Pity party.”

Lula was on the phone with Miss Gloria when I got back to the Jeep.

“Okay” she said to Miss Gloria. “I appreciate your taking the time for me like this.”

I set the coffee out and unpacked the sausage-and-egg sandwiches first.

“I feel much better,” Lula said. “Turns out it wasn’t nobody’s fault. It was just to do with me being on the cusp of something, and Tank being in the wrong quadrant. Miss Gloria said it was good the cats came because me and Tank were on a collision course with our moons and shit.”

“Does this mean the wedding is off?”

“Yeah. I was thinking I might not want to spend eternity with Tank anyway. I can’t sleep with that man. He snores, and he sweats. Is that something I want to look forward to for the rest of my life? I don’t think so.” Lula polished off her sandwich and went to the doughnut box. “You can count on Dunkin’ Donuts,” she said. “I’ll take a doughnut over a man any day of the week.”

“Your allergy sounds better.”

“Yeah. I think one of them pills did the trick.”

I dropped Lula off at her house and headed for home. Lights were on in the bonds office when I drove by, so I made a U-turn and parked. Connie was booting up her computer when I walked in. I gave her the body receipt for Denny Guzzi, and I looked through the new FTA files on her desk.

“Nothing interesting,” she said. “Domestic violence, grand theft auto, destruction of personal property.”

“Did you get an address on Gordo Bollo?”

“His employer has him residing at 656 Ward Street in Bordentown. I verified it with his sister. She posted the bond.”