Vinnie and I lunged up the stairs after him, knocking into each other in the dark. We reached the top of the stairs and off to my right I saw the flash of gunfire and BLAM, DeChooch took a potshot at us. I shrieked and dropped to the ground and scuttled for cover.
“Bond enforcement,” Vinnie yelled. “Drop the gun, DeChooch, you dumb old fuck!”
DeChooch answered with another shot. I heard something crash and Vinnie did more swearing. And then Vinnie opened fire.
I was behind the couch with my hands over my head. Vinnie and DeChooch were doing blind-man's buff target practice in the dark. Vinnie carried a Glock holding fourteen rounds. I don't know what DeChooch had, but between the two of them it sounded like machine-gun fire. There was a pause and then I heard Vinnie's clip fall to the floor and a new clip get shoved into place. At least I thought it was Vinnie. Hard to tell since I was still cowering behind the couch.
The silence felt even more deafening than the gunfire. I poked my head out and squinted into the smoky blackness. “Hello?”
“I've lost DeChooch,” Vinnie whispered.
“Maybe you killed him.”
“Wait a minute. What's that noise?”
It was the automatic garage door opening.
“Fuck!” Vinnie yelled. He ran for the stairs, slipped on the first step in the dark, and went head over ass to the landing. He scrambled to his feet, threw the front door open, and aimed. I could hear wheels squeal and Vinnie slammed the door shut. “Damn, piss, shit, fuck!” Vinnie said, stamping around the foyer, stomping upstairs. “I don't believe he got away! He slipped past me when I was reloading. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
The fucks being said with such vehemence, I was afraid he was going to pop a vein in his head.
He flicked a light on and we both looked around. Lamps were smashed, walls and ceilings were cratered, upholstery had been torn apart by bullet holes.
“Holy crap,” Vinnie said. “This looks like a war zone.”
Sirens wailed in the distance. Police.
“I'm out of here,” Vinnie said.
“I don't know if it's a good idea to run from the police.”
“I'm not running from the police,” Vinnie said, taking the stairs two at a time. “I'm running from Pinwheel Soba. I think it'd be a real good idea for us to keep this to ourselves.”
Good point.
We streaked across the darkest part of the yard and cut through the property behind Soba's house. Porch lights were going on up and down the block. Dogs were barking. And Vinnie and I were gasping for air, sprinting between bushes. When the car was just a front yard away we emerged from the shadows and sedately walked the distance. All activity was halfway around the block in front of Soba's house.
“This is why you never park in front of the house you're going to hit,” Vinnie said.
Something to remember.
We got in the car. Vinnie calmly turned the key in the ignition, and we drove off like two respectable, responsible citizens. We got to the corner and Vinnie looked down.
“Jesus,” he said, “I've got a boner.”
SUNLIGHT WAS PEEKING from between my bedroom curtains and I was thinking about getting up when someone knocked on my door. It took me a minute to find my clothes, and in the meantime the knocking turned to yelling.
“Hey Steph, are you there? It's Mooner and Dougie.”
I opened the door to them and they reminded me of Bob, all happy-faced and filled with goofy energy.
“We brought you doughnuts,” Dougie said, handing me a big white bag. “And we have something to tell you.”
“Yeah,” Mooner said, “wait until you hear this. This is so cool. Dougie and me were like, talking. And we figured out what happened to the heart.”
I put the doughnut bag on the kitchen counter and we all helped ourselves.
“It was the dog,” Mooner said. “Mrs. Belski's dog, Spotty, ate Louie D's heart.”