“I'm working on it.”
“Yeah, and it's not her fault,” Lula said, “on account of he's wily.”
“You have until eight o'clock Monday morning,” Vinnie said. “Briggs' ass isn't in the slammer by Monday morning, I'm giving the case to somebody else.”
“Vinnie, you know a bookie named Bunchy?”
“No. And trust me, I know every bookie on the East Coast.” He pulled his head back into his office and slammed the door shut.
“Tear gas,” Lula said. “That's the way to get him. We just lob a can of tear gas through his dumb-?ass window and then wait for him to come running out, gagging and choking. I know where we can get some, too. I bet we could get some from Ranger.”
“No! No tear gas,” I said.
“Well, what are you gonna do? You gonna let Vinnie give this to Joyce Barnhardt?”
Joyce Barnhardt! Shit. I'd eat dirt before I'd let Joyce Barnhardt bring in Randy Briggs. Joyce Ba
rnhardt is a mutant human being and my arch enemy. Vinnie hired her on as a part-?time bounty hunter a couple months ago in exchange for services I didn't want to think about. She'd tried to steal one of my cases back then, and I had no intention of letting that happen again.
I went to school with Joyce, and all through school she'd lied and snitched and was loosey-?goosey with other girls' boyfriends. Not to mention, I'd been married for less than a year when I'd caught Joyce woman-?superior on my dining room table with my sweating, cheating exhusband.
“I'm going to reason with Briggs,” I said.
“Oh boy,” Lula said. “This is gonna be good. I gotta see this.”
“No. I'm going alone. I can do this by myself.”
“Sure,” Lula said. “I know that. Only it'd be more fun if I was there.”
“No! No, no, no.”
“Boy, you sure do got an attitude these days,” Lula said. “You were better when you were getting some, you know what I mean? I don't know why you gave Morelli the boot anyway. I don't usually like cops, but that man has one fine ass.”
I knew what she meant about my attitude. I was feeling damn cranky. I hitched my bag onto my shoulder. “I'll call if I need help.”
“Unh,” Lula said.
THINGS WERE QUIET at Cloverleaf Apartments. No traffic in the lot. No traffic in the dingy foyer. I took the stairs and knocked on Briggs' door. No answer. I moved out of sight and dialed his number on my cell phone.
“Hello,” Briggs said.
“It's Stephanie. Don't hang up! I have to talk to you.”
“There's nothing to talk about. And I'm busy. I have work to do.”
“Look, I know this court thing is inconvenient for you. And I know it's unfair because you were unjustly charged. But it's something you have to do.”
“No.”
“Then do it for me.”
“Why should I do it for you?”
“I'm a nice person. And I'm just trying to do my job. And I need the money to pay for a pair of shoes I just bought. And even more, if I don't bring you in, Vinnie is going to give your case to Joyce Barnhardt. And I hate Joyce Barnhardt.”
“Why do you hate Joyce Barnhardt?”
“I caught her screwing my husband, who is now my ex-?husband, on my dining-?room table. Can you imagine? My diningroom table.”