Joyce's pager chirped. Joyce checked the readout and her lips curled back in a smile. “I have to go. I have a lead on DeChooch. It's a shame you two bimbos don't have anything better to do than sit here filling your faces. But then from the looks of you I guess that's what you do best.”
“Yeah, and from the looks of you I guess what you do best is fetch sticks and howl at the moon,” Lula said.
“Fuck you,” Joyce said and flounced off to her car.
“Hunh,” Lula said. “I expected something more original than that. Think Joyce must be off her form today.”
“Know what we should do?” I said. “We should follow her.”
Lula was already gathering the food together. “You read my mind,” Lula said.
The moment Joyce left the lot we were out the door and into the CR-V. Lula had the bucket of chicken and biscuits on her lap, we shoved the shakes into the drink holders, and took off.
“I bet she's a big liar,” Lula said. “I bet there's no lead. She's probably going to the mall.”
I stayed a couple cars back so she wouldn't make me, and Lula and I kept our eyes glued to the back bumper of Joyce's SUV. There were two heads visible through Joyce's rear window. She had someone riding shotgun with her.
“She's not going to the mall,” I said. “She's going in the opposite direction. Looks like she's heading for center city.”
Ten minutes later I had a bad feeling about Joyce's destination.
“I know where she's going,” I said to Lula. “She's going to talk to Mary Maggie Mason. Someone told her about the white Cadillac.”
I followed Joyce into the parking garage, keeping well behind. I parked two lanes over from her and Lula and I sat tight and watched.
“Uh-oh,” Lula said, “there she goes. Her and her flunky. They're going up to talk to Mary Maggie.”
Damn. I know Joyce too well. I've seen her work. She would go in like gangbusters, guns drawn, and search room-to-room, claiming just cause. It's the sort of behavior that gives bounty hunting a bad reputation. And even worse, it sometimes gets results. If Eddie DeChooch is hiding under Mary Maggie's bed, Joyce will find him.
I didn't recognize her partner from this distance. They were both dressed in black T-shirts and black cargo pants with BOND ENFORCEMENT printed in bright yellow on the back of their shirts.
“Boy,” Lula said, “they got costumes. How come we don't have costumes?”
“Because we don't want to look like a couple goons?”
“Yep. That's the answer I was thinking of.”
I jumped out of the car and yelled at Joyce. “Hey Joyce!” I said. “Wait a minute. I want to talk to you.”
Joyce whirled around in surprise. Her eyes narrowed when she saw me, and she said something to her partner. The conversation didn't carry to me. Joyce punched the up button. The elevator doors opened and Joyce and her partner disappeared.
Lula and I got to the elevator seconds after the doors closed. We pressed the button and waited a few minutes.
“Know what I think?” Lula said. “I don't think this elevator's going to show up. I think Joyce is holding on to it.”
We started up the stairs, fast at first, and then slower.
“Something wrong with my legs,” Lula said at the fifth floor. “I got rubber legs. They don't want to work anymore.”
“Keep going.”
“Easy for you to say. You're dragging that boney-ass body of yours up these stairs. Look what I'm hauling.”
It wasn't easy for me to say at all. I was sweating and I could barely breathe. “We've got to get into shape,” I said to Lula. “We should go to a gym or something.”
“I'd sooner set myself on fire.”
That about summed it up for me, too.