“What were you doing on Broad?” I asked him.

“I was handing out fliers. I got some for you, too.” Mooner put a stack of papers on Connie’s desk. “The Alliance is having its annual Hobbit Con, and I’m in charge this year. It’s an awesome honor.”

“I’ve never been to a Hobbit Con,” Lula said. “What do you do there?”

“You dress up like a Hobbit,” Mooner said. “And you get a Hobbit name. And there’s all kinds of Hobbit food. And there are Hobbit games. And Hobbit music.”

“I might like that,” Lula said, taking a flier off Connie’s desk and reading it. “I’m always open to new experiences. Do you got a Hobbit name?” Lula asked him.

“Bungo Goodchild,” Mooner said.

“I could see that,” Lula said. “What would my name be?”

“You could be Alvyan Jumpswell of Fair Downs,” Mooner said. “And Connie could be Primula Boffin.”

“What if I don’t want to be Primula Boffin?” Connie said.

“What about Stephanie?” Lula wanted to know. “What’s her Hobbit name?”

“Ysellyra Thorney.”

“Yeah, she looks like a Ysellyra Thorney,” Lula said.

“I have a problem,” I said to Mooner. “Vinnie’s wife kicked him out of the house, and he hasn’t got any place to stay. Do you suppose you could babysit him for me this afternoon and maybe tonight?”

“Whoa, I’d be honored,” Mooner said. “Vinnie’s the dude. He’s like famous. He runs ASC.”

“What’s ASC?” I asked Mooner.

“Alternative Sex Convention. It’s like cutting-edge.”

“That’s a shocker,” Connie said.

“Yeah,” Mooner said. “ASC is huge. Maybe Vinnie can give me some pointers.”

“Unless you got Hobbits that wear chaps and nothin’ else, you probably don’t want any of Vinnie’s pointers,” Lula said.

“Do you remember where my parents live?” I asked Mooner.

“Yep. I could find it with my eyes closed.”

I wrote the address on the back of my card and gave it to Mooner. “Just in case,” I said. “Call me if there are problems. Don’t let Vinnie out of your sight, and stay away from Stark Street.”

Mooner ambled out of the office, and moments later, we heard a backfire and the Moon Bus chugged down the street.

“Do you think you can trust him to keep Vinnie under wraps?” Lula asked me.

“If Vinnie wants to stay alive, he’ll make sure he stays hidden.”

I called my parents’ house and asked for Vinnie.

“Mooner is coming to get you,” I told Vinnie. “He’s going to let you stay in his RV. Do not leave the RV!”

I glanced at my watch. “It’s coming up to lunchtime,” I said to Lula. “Let’s look for Chopper.”

“What about Butch?” Connie wanted to know.

“I need an address. I doubt he’ll go back to work. And if I’m going to get him, I need to do it fast. He doesn’t want to go to jail. He’s going to run again.”

FOURTEEN

LULA AND I left the bonds office, and Lula looked up and down the street. “I thought for sure there’d be a new black car delivered by now,” Lula said. “You don’t suppose Ranger ran out of cars, do you?”

“Maybe I’ve reached my monthly quota.”

A green SUV pulled in behind Lula’s Firebird, and Morelli got out.

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” I told Lula, and I went to meet Morelli.

Morelli stepped close to me, hands at my waist, and he nuzzled my neck.

“Is this a social visit?” I asked him.

“Not entirely. I wanted to see if you smelled like cow.”

I stepped away and looked at him. “Well?”

“Nope.”

“Is it against the law to smell like cow?”

“It is if you let a herd of them loose in the city.”

“How did you know?”

“Several of the workers who were interviewed remembered seeing a black woman with red hair and big boobs and a pretty girl with a brown ponytail.”

“They thought I was pretty?”

“Everyone thinks you’re pretty,” Morelli said.

“How about you?”

“Especially me,” he said. “What the hell were you doing at the packing plant?”

“I was after Butch Goodey. And it was all an accident.”

“You accidentally started a stampede?”

“Not me, exactly. Butch was working the holding pen, and he panicked when he saw me. And he bolted. And the cows bolted with him.”

Morelli put his hand to his chest. “Heartburn,” he said. “You have any Rolaids?”

“Too much stress,” I said. “It’s your job.”

“It’s not my job. It’s you. You’re a magnet for disaster.”

“So find a new girlfriend. Some nice, boring woman who remembers to buy bread.”

“Maybe I will,” Morelli said.

“Fine!”

“Fine, yourself.”

“Hmmph,” I said, and I turned on my heel, marched back to Lula’s Firebird, and got in.

“That looked like it went well,” Lula said.

“Just drive.”

“Don’t be Miss Crankypants with me just because you aren’t gettin’ any.”

“I could get plenty if I wanted.”

“You know what your problem is? You got too many scruples. One or two scruples is okay, but you get too many of them, and it clogs everything up.”

What she said made no sense at all, but was probably right.

“I got some scruples,” Lula said, “but I know when to stop. There’s a point where you have to say enough is enough and screw scruples.”

“Is this conversation going somewhere?”

“If it was me, I’d sleep with both of them, and when they found out, I’d move on. Sayonara, sweetie.”

“Jeez.”

Lula looked over at me. “Maybe that don’t work for you.”

I sprang forward in my seat. “It’s him! Chopper just drove past us. Black Lexus, tinted windows, fancy wheels, and his plate starts with CH.”

“I’m on it,” Lula said. “Keep your eye on him.”

There were three cars between us. Traffic was moderate on Hamilton at this time of the day.

“He turned right on Chambers,” I said to Lula.

“He’s going for one of his burger places,” Lula said. “I bet he’s heading for Meat & Go. It’s just ahead.”

We lost sight of the Lexus on Chambers, but spotted it parked at Meat & Go. Chopper was a big-ticket bond, and I was tired of getting skunked. No way was this one getting away.

“Park behind him so he’s blocked,” I said to Lula.

“What are you, nuts? This is my baby. I’m not getting my baby rammed. We saw what happened with Ranger’s Jeep. I’m parking far away, where no one’s gonna park next to me and ding my door.”

“Okay, fine,” I said. “Just park.”

We got out of the Firebird and took inventory. Lula had cuffs, pepper spray, stun gun, Glock, pearl-handled Derringer, switchblade knife, and brass knuckles. I had my.45, cuffs, pepper spray, and stun gun. Lula wanted to use everything in her arsenal. I wanted to use nothing.

“No excessive force,” I said to her.

“Sure, I know that,” Lula said. “Just get outta my way. I’m gonna bag this idiot.”

“No! Let me talk to him. He’s a professional. He’ll cooperate.”

“You always say that, and then they run over your toes.”

I put my hand to my chest and grunted.

“Something wrong?” Lula wanted to know.

“I think I have heartburn. What does heartburn feel like?”

“Pain.”

“I’ve got it. Do you have Rolaids?”

“No. I never have trouble with heartburn on account of I keep a positive attitude. And I got good digestion from eating right.”

“You eat everything.”

“Exactly. I get variety in my diet. Even when I was on that one diet, which I’m not anymore, I made the most of it.”

This was true.

“Stay behind me,” I said to Lula. “I’m going in.”

I had the cuffs at easy access, and I had the stun gun in hand. True, it didn’t work on Butch, but that was a fluke. I crossed the lot and rapped on the tinted driver’s side window. The window rolled down, and Chopper looked out at me. I knew Chopper by sight. He looked like Joe Pesci, if Joe Pesci was Cuban.

“Mortimer Gonzolez?” I asked.

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Bond enforcement,” I said. “You need to come with me to set a new court date.”