14 Fearless Fourteen (10 page)

“What? You aren't serious! I was counting on being
fired.”

“Why would I fire you?”

“The eyelash.”

“Babe, you've gotta do a lot better than that to get
fired.”

“I can't get Brenda to the sound check. She hates me. She won't
listen to me.”

“You'll figure it out,” Ranger said. “I have to go. I'll see you
tonight.”

I blew out a sigh and hiked to my car. Easy to find it these
days with Zook written in Day-Glo paint all over it. I drove to the
office and parked at the curb.

Lula was on the phone when I walked into the office. “What do
you think about having fireworks go off after the ceremony?” she
asked me. “It's part of the package if you have the reception at
the VFW hall. They ring the church bells, and then they shoot off
fireworks.”

“I guess that could be fun,” I said.

“Yeah, we'll consider the fireworks,” Lula said into the phone.
“And maybe while the fireworks are going off, you could serve some
of them pigs in a blanket. I love them little things.” She listened
for another minute and disconnected. “That went real good,” she
said. “They had a cancellation on a baby shower, and I was able to
sneak in.”

“Isn't all this going to come to a lot of money?” I asked her.
“The gown, the cake, the flowers, the hall, the pigs in a blanket,
the fireworks?”

“A wedding is priceless. A girl only gets married
once.”

“Not the girls in this room,” Connie said. “Have you thought
about a prenup?”

Lula's eyes widened. “A prenup? You think I need
one?”

“He could end up getting your Firebird.”

“No way! Not my Firebird.”

“And what about your house?”

“I just rent an apartment. I own the couch, though. He better
not try to take my couch or my TV.”

“You need a lawyer,” Connie said.

Lula took a pad out of her purse. “I'll put it on my list. Now
that I'm getting married, I'm more detail-oriented. I'm keeping
track of things in my pad.”

“How's the Brenda job going?” Connie asked. “What's she
like?”

“She's just like she is on television, but she's prettier on
television. I need someone to help me get her to a sound check at
four. Any takers?”

“Is there money in it?” Lula asked.

“Yeah. You'll be on Ranger's payroll.”

“I never been on Ranger's payroll before,” Lula said. “I'll do
it.”

“If you represent Ranger, you have to be dressed in black. I'll
meet you in the hotel lobby at three-thirty.”

“That don't hardly give me any time,” Lula said. “I gotta get
home to my apartment and change my makeup if I'm wearing black. And
then I got wardrobe decisions to make.”

“You have hours.”

“Yeah, but this here's important. I'm gonna be mingling with all
them entertainment people. This could be my big break. I could get
discovered.”

Lula left, but I stayed at the office and did some phone work on
a couple skips. At three-fifteen, I swiped on some mascara and
lipgloss and headed out.

At three-thirty I was in the lobby, waiting for Lula. I didn't
see Brenda's stalker, but I knew he was somewhere
nearby.

Lula barreled into the lobby through the front door and motored
across the floor. She was in black heels and black stockings and a
short, totally sequined, tight black skirt.

Her boobs were overflowing out of a black satin bustier, and she
had it all topped off with a black satin tuxedo jacket. Her hair
was Budweiser red. I suspected she was also wearing a Glock at the
small of her back, under the jacket.

“Hey, girlfriend,” she said. “Let's rock and
roll.”

“Brenda might not be too happy to see me,” I said to Lula in the
elevator.

“She had a makeup malfunction on television, and at first
glance, it might have seemed to be my fault.”

“Are you talking about the eyelash fiasco? Connie and me almost
wet our pants.”

The elevator doors opened at Brenda's floor, and I looked out at
Tank, standing halfway down the hall in front of the
suite.

“It's my sweetie!” Lula shrieked, taking off at a run on the
stiletto heels.

Tank froze, deer in the headlights. Except with Tank, it was
more like rhino in the headlights. Lula grabbed Tank and gave him a
kiss, and Tank broke out in a sweat.

“Ranger bailed on the sound check,” I told Tank, “so I brought
Lula to help out.”

Tank almost smiled. He knew Ranger would have a seizure at the
thought of Lula working for him.

“I'm all dressed in Rangeman colors,” Lula said to
Tank.

“Yeah,” Tank said. “You look fine.”

“And I've been working on our wedding all day,” Lula told him.
“I've got all the details worked out, so you don't have to worry
about anything. I know you want the whole big deal with the
fireworks and me in a veil and a gown with a big long train and
all, so I've got it all goin' on. And all you gotta do is go for a
fitting for your tuxedo.”

The sweat was dripping off Tank's chin onto his T-shirt.
“Tuxedo?” he said.

“Fireworks?”

“And lots of pigs in a blanket. You like pigs in a blanket,
right?”

“Yeah,” Tank said.

“Then its all settled,” Lula told him.

“I got it covered here,” I said to Tank. “Maybe you want to take
a break.”

Tank nodded but didn't move.

“You aren't going to faint again, are you?” I asked
him.

“Tank don't faint,” Lula said. “Look at how big he is. He got a
circulation system like a steam engine.”

I knocked on Brenda's door and Nancy answered.

“Uh-oh,” she said when she saw me.

“Ranger is busy,” I told her. “Lula and I are here to take
Brenda to the sound check.”

Nancy looked at Lula and gasped.

“Who's there?” Brenda called from the bedroom. “Is it Mr. Hard
Ass?”

I pushed my way into the suite. “Mr. Hard Ass is busy. It's the
eyelash expert and her sidekick, Lula. The cars are downstairs,
waiting.”

Brenda power-walked out of the bedroom. “I am not going with
you. You destroyed my good reputation. I have an image to uphold. I
was a beauty queen. I was America's Sweetheart. I've gone
platinum.”

“And I was a 'ho,” Lula said. “What's that got to do with the
price of beans?”

Brenda's eyebrows raised up an inch. “Were you really a 'ho?
I've never met a real 'ho before.”

“Probably you did,” Lula said. “There's lots of 'hos out there,
but we look just like regular people.”

Brenda and I stared at Lula for a couple beats. Lula didn't
nearly look like a regular person.

“So let's get a move on,” Lula said. “I don't want to miss
nothing on this sound check.”

We moved out of the room, into the hall, and hustled into the
elevator. We dropped to the lobby, started across the floor, and
Brenda spotted the stalker.

“There's Gary,” she said. “He's not supposed to be here. I had a
restraining order put on him. He should be home with his mother.
Ever since he got hit by that lightning, he hasn't been
right.”

“You know him?”

“He's my cousin. Before the lightning hit him, he had brown
hair. Can you imagine that?”

“He said I had a red aura,” Lula said.

“You go on home,” Brenda yelled across the room to Gary. “I'll
get the police after you if I see you again.”

“Watch out for the pizza,” Gary yelled back.

We climbed into one of the black SUVs and my cell phone
rang.

“Where are you?” Zook asked.

“I'm in a car,” I said. “Where are you?”

“I'm at school, waiting for someone to pick me
up.”

“Your mother got bonded out this morning. She was supposed to
pick you up.”

“She isn't here.”

“Okay, stay right there, and I'll get back to
you.”

I dialed Dom.

“What?” Dom said.

“I'm looking for Loretta.”

“She went to get the kid.”

“He just called me. He's on the street, waiting.”

“She left an hour ago,” he said. “Maybe she went to the store or
something.”

I couldn't see Loretta doing that. She would have been anxious
to see her son.

She would have gone to the store after she picked him
up.

“Oh shit!” Dom said, panic-voiced. “I gotta go.” And he hung
up.

I redialed. No answer. I called Morelli.

“Something's not right,” I said to him. “I can't locate
Loretta.”

“Do you think she skipped again?”

“I don't know what I think, but I have a bad feeling in my
stomach. I got a call from Zook. She never picked him up. I called
Dom, and he said she left an hour ago. Someone has to get
Zook.”

“Dom?”

“He hung up on me, and I can't get him back.”

“Then I guess you have to get Zook.”

“I can't get Zook. I'm working. You have to get
him.”

“I can't get him. I'm in the middle of
something.”

“What?”

“Baseball. You know I play ball with the guys every
Thursday.”

I rolled my eyes so severely I almost fell off my seat. “Please
help me out here,” I said. “He's your... cousin.”

“Okay,” Morelli said. “But only because you said
please.”

The SUVs wound their way into the arena back lot, and we
off-loaded at the door. The lot held the semis that haul the
staging and sound equipment, two band buses, a bunch of cop cars,
and a SAT TV truck.

“This is just about the most exciting thing I've ever done,”
Lula said. “This is better than when Grandma Mazur burned the
funeral home down. There were TV trucks from all over the place
covering that.”

A woman who looked like a Nancy clone led us through the maze of
cinderblock corridors to the area set aside for costume changes and
makeup. Twenty to thirty people milled around a couple tables of
catered food. Electrical cables snaked along the floor, and the
whole deal felt like the circus was in town.

Brenda's arrival prompted a flurry of activity. The stage
manager, the bandleader, the makeup wrangler, the hairdresser, and
the wardrobe specialist clustered around her. I followed Ranger's
instructions and kept Brenda in sight, but I did it from a
distance. Brenda was suddenly the consummate professional. She
answered questions, she made decisions, she followed instructions.
People drifted away from the food to do their jobs, and Lula,
Nancy, and I waited backstage while everyone walked through the
show.

“This here's what I should be doing,” Lula said. “I always
wanted to be a supermodel, but now I see I should be a singer. I've
been doing gigs with Sally Sweet, but it don't showcase my talent.
I need to be out there on that stage with a whole bunch of
half-naked men dancing behind me.”

I gnawed on my lip a little.

“What?” Lula said.

“Nothing.”

“Yessir, there's something.”

“You can't sing.”

“Yeah, but I look real good, and if the band plays loud enough,
it don't matter. I think I could be a real star.”

My phone rang and I stepped into the corridor to
talk.

“I got Zook and I left him with your mother,” Morelli said.
“Then I rode around the neighborhood looking for Lorettas car. I
found it three blocks from her mother's house. No Loretta, but her
purse was on the passenger seat and there was blood on the steering
wheel and door.”

I put my hand to the wall to steady myself. “How much
blood?”

“Not a lot. I'm guessing she was wrestled out of the
car.”

“And what about Dom?”

“Vanished.”

“Now what?”

“I have a crime scene guy here, examining the car. And I put out
an informal request to look for Loretta and Dom. The mother's house
wasn't locked, so I'm going back there to snoop around. How's it
going with you?”

“Could be worse.”

The sound check lasted an hour. When it was over, the Nancy
clone fetched us back to the dressing rooms and Lula, Nancy, and I
mooched food while Brenda settled into a director's chair and the
makeup wrangler started working on her. An hour later, the makeup
thing was still going on and the hair guy had Brenda's hair rolled
up in curlers the size of soup cans.

“You're eating a lot of doughnuts,” Lula said to me. “Something
bothering you?”

“I'm worried about Loretta. She's disappeared.”

“That was fast.”

I told Lula about the car.

“That's ugly,” Lula said. “I don't like the way that
sounds.”

My mother's number popped up on my cell screen. It was my
Grandma Mazur.

“We're on to the griefer,” Grandma yelled into the phone. “We
got him on the run. We're moving the operation to Morelli's house,
so the griefer can't track us.” “Why would he track you?” “Griefers
are like that,” Grandma said. “And anyway, we're driving your
mother nuts.” CHAPTER NINE I had arranged for three comped tickets
to be left at will call for Morelli, Zook, and Grandma. I thought
it would help to take Zook's mind off his mom. Morelli phoned at
seven to tell me they were in the building and so far, no word on
Loretta. “After the show, I'm bringing Zook back to my house,”
Morelli said. "He's persona non grata with your mother. He
spray-painted his name on your mother's sidewalk and front door,
and then your grandmother spray-painted Scorch on everything,
including your parents' ninety-two-year-old neighbor, Mrs.
Ciak.

They said it was to throw the griefer off.“ ”You need to talk to
Zook. He needs a father figure.“ ”I know nothing about being a
father.“ ”You're good with Bob. Just pretend he's Bob. Remember
when Bob ate all your furniture? How did you get Bob to stop?“ ”I
didn't. He still eats the furniture. He has me trained to live with
it.“ ”You're just a big softy,“ I said to Morelli. ”Don't tell
anyone, okay? I don't want that to get around. I have to go. I
can't let Zook wander away from me. I'm afraid he'll redecorate the
men's room.“ Ranger strolled in at ten after seven. ”Where were
you?“ I asked him. ”Meetings with house security and checking the
building.“ He glanced across the hall to Lula, who was taking
pointers from the makeup lady. ”I understand I have a new
employee.“ ”I needed someone to help persuade Brenda to come with
me.“ ”Looks like it worked.“ ”How's Tank doing?“ ”He's confused. If
this goes on much longer, I might have to kill Lula.“ ”You're
kidding, right?“ Ranger didn't answer. ”Right?“ I asked him again.
He hooked an arm around my neck, pulled me to him, and kissed me on
the top of my head. ”I'm kidding. But it is tempting.“ ”So what's
going on out there? Bomb threats? Animal rights
activists?