Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIX
Lula was standing on the sidewalk in front of the office when I pulled to the curb. The platinum wig was on straight and even from a distance I could see that she was wearing two eyelashes.
“Connie left early,” Lula said, sliding in next to me. “She said not to forget about the new FTA.”
“I haven’t looked at it yet. It’s in my bag. Pull it out and read it to me.”
Lula found the file and flipped it open. “Zoran something. I can’t pronounce his last name.”
I joined the traffic on Hamilton and headed for the Fleck house on Elm Street. “Spell it.”
“D-j-o-r-d-j-e-v-i-c.”
“Okay, we’ll call him Zoran.”
“He’s Caucasian,” Lula said, “five foot ten, forty-six years old, brown hair, brown eyes, divorced. Owns a laundromat. And he’s a vampire.”
“That’s different,” I said. “We don’t get a lot of vampires.”
“Maybe never,” Lula said. “We had a couple werewolves, but I can’t remember no vampires.”
“What’s the crime?”
“According to the police report, he’s accused of biting a woman in the neck and trying to drink her blood. There’s a picture here of her neck with fang marks in it.”
“Is there a picture of him?”
“Mug shot,” Lula said. “He looks angry. Got a lot of hair. Description said brown but it looks black and shot with gray in the picture.”
“Any priors?”
“Bunch of parking tickets.”
I drove down Elm Street and idled in front of the Fleck house. The white Corolla was parked in the driveway and a silver Nissan Sentra with a bashed-in right fender was parked at the curb. I pulled in behind the Sentra and cut the engine.
“Do you know what would be good?” Lula said. “We should have body cams. GoPros or something. Then we could put this on YouTube and get rich and famous for taking down Robin Hoodie.”
“That would be a nightmare. Remember how you said I’ll be lucky if I don’t get my apartment firebombed again?”
“Oh yeah. I forgot that part. Maybe I can get a selfie with him just for my own personal remembrance. It could be a historic moment.”
“No selfies. No request for an autograph. No sneaking a souvenir into your tote bag. We aren’t arresting Robin Hoodie. We’re arresting Eugene Fleck.”
“But he might be Robin Hoodie,” Lula said.
“Forget Robin Hoodie. Our job is simple here. Eugene is in violation of his bond, and we’re bringing him back into the system.”
“Boy, you aren’t any fun now that you’re pregnant. You got a lot of rules.”
“We don’t know if I’m pregnant.”
“Remember how you said you would marry the baby daddy? Suppose you have twins and they each have a different daddy. It could happen, right? What would you do?”
“I’m pretty sure that only happens with rabbits, but if it did happen, I guess I’d be a single mom with twins,” I said.
“I’d be their auntie,” Lula said.
That kind of choked me up. “Yes,” I said. “You would be their auntie.”
“Okay, now that we got that settled, let’s go ruin the Flecks’ dinnertime.”
I got out of the Trailblazer and went to the sidewalk. “It’s our job.”
“Damn straight it is,” Lula said, joining me. “Are you going to ruin their dinner big-time with cuffs and everything or are you gonna try to be classy?”
“I’m aiming for classy.”
“I got classy in fucking spades.”
I rang the doorbell and Mrs. Fleck answered it.
“Stephanie and Lula,” she said. “What a nice surprise. We were just sitting down to dinner. It’s Taco Tuesday. Would you like to join us? I always make extra.”
“Hell yeah,” Lula said. “I love tacos.”
“Actually, we’re here to reschedule Eugene,” I said.
“Of course,” Mrs. Fleck said. “He’s at the table. His friend Kevin is here as well. Take a seat and I’ll add two more place settings.”
Mrs. Fleck went to get plates and I grabbed Lula by the back of her shirt.
“We didn’t come here for dinner,” I said. “We came to arrest Eugene.”
“Yeah, but he hasn’t eaten his dinner yet. You said we were gonna be classy and seems to me it would be rude not to let everyone eat dinner before you drag Eugene’s skinny ass out of here. Especially after Mrs. F. went to so much trouble. She’s got sour cream and shredded cheese and lettuce and hot sauce and all kinds of stuff on the table. I can see it from here.”
I cut my eyes to the dining room. Everyone was watching us. Eugene did a little wave.
“That must be the Mr. at the head of the table,” Lula said. “He looks like he could eat a lot of tacos.”
Go with it, I told myself. Take a seat and wait for the moment. These are nice people. No reason to cause any more stress than is necessary.
I went to the table and sat in the seat next to Eugene. “I’m sure you know why we’re here,” I said to him.
“Not a problem,” he said. “I was going to get in touch with you anyway. I got swept away by the Merry Men. They were so happy to see me that I didn’t have the heart to tell them I wasn’t Robin.”
“Are you sure you aren’t Robin?” Lula asked from across the table. “I’ve been watching Robin on YouTube, and you look like you could be Robin.” She turned to Kevin, sitting next to her. “You look like you could be Robin, too. Put a hood on you and be hard to tell the two of you apart. Without the hood it’s easier on account of you have all that curly red hair. I’ve got a wig with hair just like yours.”
Kevin rolled his eyes up, as if he could see his hair. “This is mine,” he said.
Kevin’s build was slim. His skin was pale and freckled. His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. He looked like a red-haired ghost sitting next to Lula.
Mrs. Fleck returned with plates and silverware. “Everyone help yourselves. There’s more in the kitchen.”
Lula filled her taco shell and did a taste test. “This is real good chicken,” Lula said to Mrs. Fleck. “I bet you marinated it to get it this tasty.”
“I have a secret recipe,” Mrs. Fleck said. “I have a special sauce for my beef tacos too.”
“I’m impressed that you take your tacos seriously,” Lula said. “That’s an admirable quality.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Fleck said. “It’s nice to have young ladies at the table. Eugene has never had a girl visit him before this.”
“Jeez, Mom,” Eugene said. “That’s embarrassing. And anyway, they came to arrest me. They’re from the bail bonds agency. You’re going to have to bail me out again.”
“You should have remembered your court date,” Eugene’s father said. “This is going to cost us more money. And it’s irresponsible.”
“I had reasons,” Eugene said.
“How does this rescheduling work?” Mrs. Fleck asked. “Is it done online? Do we sign more papers and give you a check?”
“I have to go to the police station with them,” Eugene said. “It’s after court hours, so I’ll have to spend the night in jail, and then in the morning I’ll go before a judge, and he’ll give me a new trial date and set a bail bond amount.”
“That’s terrible,” Mrs. Fleck said, her voice raised, clearly upset. “I had no idea. You didn’t have to stay in jail last time.”
“Court was in session when he was brought in last time,” I said. “We were able to write an immediate bail bond.”
“This is terrible,” Mrs. Fleck said. “He’s been accused of a crime he didn’t commit. He can’t even go out in public without people pointing him out and wanting to take a selfie with him. And now he has to get locked up in jail!”
Oh boy. This was going south fast. I pushed back in my chair and stood, reaching for my cuffs. “It’s just overnight.”
“Overnight!” she shrieked. “No. That’s terrible. He hasn’t even finished his taco.”
“Hold on here,” Lula said. “Let’s all calm down a minute and consider things. Do you got dessert?” Lula asked Mrs. Fleck.
“Of course,” Mrs. Fleck said. “Chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream. It’s our tradition on Taco Tuesday.”
“Did you hear that?” Lula said to me. “Chocolate cake. It would be a shame for Eugene to miss having chocolate cake. Look at how skinny he is. And I bet he was thinking about having a second taco after he finishes the one he’s got. I bet we were all thinking about that.”
“There’s always next Tuesday,” I said.
“Yeah, but there might not be a next Tuesday if he gets a speedy trial and conviction,” Lula said. “Something like that’s never happened before in Trenton but you never know.”
“I’ve never been in jail overnight,” Eugene said. “It sounds scary. It would be great if you would let me stay home tonight and reschedule tomorrow. I swear, I’ll be at the courthouse first thing in the morning.”
“I wasn’t thinking of anything so drastic,” Lula said. “I was just thinking of not rushing through the meal with dessert and all. A night in jail isn’t that bad. I spent a bunch of nights in jail. They usually give you a Happy Meal. If you’re lucky it could even be a Big Mac. And you get a blanket, and you get to meet new people if you’re in the tank. Sometimes you even get to bunk with an old friend. When I was a ho it was like girls’ night out in the tank sometimes.”
Kevin did a nervous giggle and everyone else looked horrified. Even I was horrified. I went into damage-control mode, sucked in some air, and sat down.
“You’re absolutely right,” I said to Eugene. “There’s no reason why we can’t all enjoy our tacos and reschedule you tomorrow.”
“Amen,” Lula said. “Could someone pass me the hot sauce?”
“That went well,” Lula said when we were back in the Trailblazer. “I was afraid for a minute there that it wasn’t gonna be our finest hour, but it turned around and turned out okay. This was a satisfying evening.”
“We didn’t apprehend Eugene.”
“No, but we got chocolate cake,” Lula said. “Sometimes you gotta go with the way fate evens things out.”
“What do you think the chances are that Eugene will show up tomorrow morning?”
“There’s a lot of things to take into consideration on that, but I’d say fifty-fifty.”
“I’m getting a bed delivered tomorrow. What do you think the chances are I’ll have the bed repossessed if I can’t make the minimum payment on my credit card because I didn’t apprehend Eugene?”
“They don’t usually repossess a bed. They’ll just put you in collection and ruin your credit score and make your life a living hell,” Lula said.
I drove to the office, dropped Lula off at her car, and drove home. Morelli was expecting me to spend the night with him but that wasn’t going to happen. Truth is, I would have loved to spend the night with him. I missed him. I missed the easy comfort of being with him and Bob. Unfortunately, the easy comfort would turn into something more intimate, and that would be terrific but not good.
Rex was running on his wheel when I let myself into my apartment. I said hello and told him about the taco dinner party while I searched through the fruit basket. I found a bag of caramel-coated popcorn and gave some to Rex along with another slice of pear. I turned to go into the dining room and spotted Herbert Slovinski standing in my foyer.
“You didn’t lock your door,” Herbert said. “You should be more careful. Anybody could walk in. There are crazy people out there.”
“I always lock my door,” I said. “How did you get in and what are you doing here?”
“I was worried about you being constipated. After I sent you the flowers, I thought I should have sent you stool softeners instead. Or I should have sent you both. Are those my flowers in your kitchen? Do you like them? I didn’t know what flowers were your favorites. Some people don’t like lilies. Lilies are best if you cut their sex parts off. I know that sounds terrible, but I don’t think lilies mind. I see you have a fruit basket. That’s the best thing for constipation. I should have thought of that but it’s a good thing I didn’t since you already have one.” He stepped away from the door and looked into my living room. “This is the first time I’ve seen something that was firebombed. I thought there would be more damage… like a room that was gutted and charred black. Whoever did this probably was an amateur. I mean, if you’re going to firebomb something you should at least do a good job of it, right? It looks like your furniture didn’t even get burned.” He adjusted his glasses. “You haven’t got much furniture. I expected you would have more. You look like a more-furniture person.”
“This is new furniture. The fire was mostly contained in my bedroom and living room and none of the furniture survived.”
“Gee, that’s too bad. I could help you get furniture if you want. I have a lot of connections. I can get anything practically for free.”
“Thanks, but I have furniture ordered.”
“How about a television?” Herbert said. “I bet you don’t have a television ordered. I can have one here for you tomorrow. A big flat-screen. Where do you usually put your television? Not that it matters. I’ll get you a nice big console to go under it. Then you can hang it or put it on the console. Do you want one for your bedroom too? Lots of people like a television in their bedroom.”
“No. Really not necessary.” I looked down at my watch. “Gosh, look at the time. I need to be somewhere.”
“That’s too bad. I thought we could do something fun. Do you like Scrabble? I’m a Scrabble genius. I’m good at all board games. I always win at Monopoly. I have a whole collection of games. I even have Candy Land. I bet it’s been a while since you played Candy Land.”
“Yeah, forever,” I said, inching back to the door. “I hate to rush you out of here, but I’m already late.”
“Do you need a ride? I have a Prius.”
“Thanks again, but I need to take my own car.”
“Where are you going?”
I stared at him for a beat. Where was I going?
“I’m going to my boyfriend’s house,” I said.
“The one you’re engaged to?”
“Yes. The cop with the gun.”
“That’s too bad. We could have played a game or something. Did your games all get burned up too?”
“I’m not much of a games person.” I had the door open. “Thanks for stopping by,” I said, physically moving him into the doorway.
He leaned toward me, coming in for a kiss, and before he could get close enough, I shoved him into the hall and closed and locked the door.
“Okay then,” he yelled on the other side of my door. “Good visit. We’ll have to do this again sometime soon, right?”
I looked into the kitchen at Rex. He was stopped on his wheel, staring at me with his shiny little black eyes. Even Rex was appalled. I gave him a couple Froot Loops and told him not to worry. Everything was okay. The weird guy was going away. I went back to my door and looked out the peephole. No Herbert. That was a good sign. I went to a living room window, peeked out, and saw Herbert walk out of my building and go to his car. He got in and sat there. I watched for a couple minutes, and he didn’t drive away. I went to the kitchen and got a bottle of water. I took the water to the couch and checked my emails, text messages, and socials.
Morelli called. “Are we still on for tonight?”
I went to the window and looked down at the parking lot. Herbert was still there. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on the windowpane. Nothing short of a bullet was going to discourage this doofus. If he didn’t see me drive off, he was going to be back banging on my door asking me if I needed bathroom aids.
“Yep,” I said to Morelli. “I’m on my way.”
I said goodbye to Rex, locked up, and went straight to my Trailblazer. I didn’t look in Herbert’s direction. I left the parking lot and two blocks later I turned onto Hamilton Avenue. I glanced at my rearview mirror and saw Herbert behind me in his Prius. The moron didn’t even have enough sense to put a car between us. I wondered how much damage I would sustain if I put my car in reverse at the next light and rammed him. Tempting but not a good idea, I told myself. It would involve another annoying conversation with him, and at the very least I’d need a new rear bumper.
Ten minutes later I parked at the curb in front of Morelli’s house and Herbert idled at the corner. I traced down his phone number and called him.
“Hello,” he said. “Gosh. This is great. I didn’t expect a phone call so soon.”
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean? I’m in my car.”
“I know you’re in your car. I can see you. Why are you following me?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay. You didn’t look too good at the end of our visit.”
“I’m fine. I would be even better if you’d go away. Forever.”
“Hah! That’s funny. I was just waiting to make sure you got in the house okay. I mean, it’s not like I don’t have anything else to do tonight. There’s a viewing at Harrison Funeral Home in Mercerville that I might catch. It’s not my favorite funeral home but once in a while I check it out.”
I hung up, got out of the Trailblazer, and let myself into Morelli’s house. Bob rushed at me, put his giant paws on my chest, and knocked me back against the closed door.
“Good boy,” I said. “Good Bob.”
Morelli sauntered over and took Bob’s place against my chest. “Rangers are up by one,” he said.
He kissed me and I got all warm inside. “Rangers are going to have a good year.”
“Yeah. Me too,” he said. “What would you like? Wine? Beer? Have you had dinner? Want a quickie? Rangers are between periods.”
There it was! The ultimate out.
“None of the above,” I said. “Speaking of periods…”
Morelli looked stricken. “No.”
“Yes. Sorry.”
“I might be able to ignore it.”
“No way.”
“Cramps?”
“Big-time,” I told him. “Like childbirth.”