There were no bomb alert lights flashing when I got to the car, so I slid behind the wheel feeling secure. My parents' house was first on the visitation list. I thought it wouldn't hurt to have a cup of coffee and catch up on the latest rumors.
Grandma appeared at the door the minute I swerved in to the curb. "Boy, that's a pip of a car," she said, watching me angle out and set the security system. "What kind of car is it?"
"It's a BMW."
"We just read in the paper where you had a Porsche, and it got blown up. Your mother's in the bathroom taking an aspirin."
I ran up the porch stairs two at a time. "It was in the paper?"
"Yeah, only they didn't have a picture of you, like usual. They just had a picture of the car. Boy, it looked flat as a pancake."
Great. "Did they say anything else?"
"They called you the Bombshell Bounty Hunter."
Maybe I needed an aspirin too. I dropped my shoulder bag on a kitchen chair and reached for the paper on the table. Oh, God, it was on the front page.
"The paper said the police were pretty sure it was a bomb," Grandma said. "Only after the garbage truck fell on the car I guess they had a hard time figuring out what was what."
My mother came into the kitchen. "Whose car is that parked in front of our house?"
"That's Stephanie's new car," Grandma said. "Isn't it a pip?"
One of my mother's eyebrows raised in question. "Two new cars? Where are these cars coming from?"
"Company cars," I said.
"Oh?"
"Anal sex is not involved," I told her.
My mother and grandmother both gasped.
"Sorry," I said. "It just slipped out."
"I thought only homosexual men did anal sex," Grandma said.
"Anybody with an anus can do it," I told her.
"Hmm," she said. "I got one of them."
I poured a cup of coffee and sat at the table. "So what's new?"
Grandma got coffee and sat across from me. "Harriet Mullen had a baby boy. They had to do a C-section on her at the last minute, but everything turned out okay. And Mickey Szajak died. Guess it was about time."
"Are you hearing anything these days about Vito Grizolli?"
"I saw him at the meat market last week, and I thought he'd put on some weight."
"How's he doing financially?"
"I hear he's making big money on that cleaning business. And I saw Vivien driving a new Buick."
Vivien was Vito's wife. She was sixty-five, wore fake eyelashes, and dyed her hair bright red because that's the way Vito liked it. Anyone who voiced a critical opinion got fitted with cement booties and accidentally took a dive into the Delaware River.
"I don't suppose there are any rumors going around about First Trenton."
My mother and grandmother both looked up from their coffee.
"The bank?" my mother asked. "Why do you want to know about the bank?"
"I don't know. Fred had an account there. I was just fishing."
Grandma stared at my chest. "You look different. Are you wearing one of them sports brassieres?" She looked more closely. "Hot dog. I know what it is. You're wearing a bulletproof vest. Ellen, look at this," she said to my mother. "Stephanie's wearing a bulletproof vest. Isn't that something?"
My mother's face had turned white. "Why me?" she said.
NEXT STOP WAS Mabel's house.
Mabel opened the door and smiled. "Stephanie, how nice to see you, dear. Would you like tea?"
"I can't stay," I said. "I just wanted to stop around and see how you were doing."
"Isn't that sweet of you. I'm doing peachy. I think I've decided on a trip to Bermuda."
I picked a brochure off the coffee table. "Singles cruises for seniors?"
"They have some very good rates."
"Anything happen that I should know about? Like, have you heard from Fred?"
"I haven't heard a word from Fred. I suppose he's dead."
Boy, don't get all broken up over it. "It's only been two weeks," I said. "He could still turn up."
Mabel slid a longing look at the brochures. "I suppose that's true."
Ten minutes later I was at the office.
"Hey, girlfriend," Lula said. "Did you see the paper this morning? You got a big spread. And not that I'm bummed or anything, but I didn't even get a mention. And I didn't get a cool name like Bombshell Bounty Hunter either. Hell, I could bombshell your ass off."
"I know that," I said. "And that's why I was wondering if you wanted to ride along with me again today?"
"I don't know. What kind of car are you driving? You back to driving that Buick?"
"Actually, I have a Beemer."
Lula rushed to the front window and looked out. "Damn skippy. Way to go."
Vinnie stuck his head out of his office doorway. "What's going on?"
"Stephanie got a new car," Lula said. "That's it at the curb."
"Anybody hear about anything funny going on at First Trenton?" I asked. "Anybody shady work there?"
"You should ask the little guy we talked to yesterday," Lula said. "I can't remember his name, but he seemed like a nice guy. You don't think he's shady, do you?"
"Hard to tell who's shady," I said to Lula. Actually, I thought shady would be a step up for Shempsky.
"Where'd you get the car?" Vinnie asked.
"It's a company car. I'm working with Ranger."
Vinnie's face creased into a big, oily smile. "Ranger gave you a car? Hah! What kind of work you doing? Gotta be good to get a car like that."
"Maybe you should ask Ranger," I said.
"Yeah, sure, when I don't want to live anymore."
"Any new FTAs come in?" I asked Connie.
"We got two in yesterday, but they're chump change. I wasn't sure you wanted to be bothered with them. Seems like you've got a lot on your plate right now."
"What's the profile?"
"A shoplifter and a wife beater."
"We'll take the wife beater," Lula said. "We don't allow no wife beaters to just walk away. We like to give the wife beaters personal attention."
I took the file from Connie and sifted through it. Kenyon Lally. Age twenty-eight. Unemployed. Long history of spousal abuse. Two DUI convictions. Living in the projects. No mention of Kenyon shooting any previous bounty hunters.
"Okay," I said, "we'll take this one."
"Oh boy," Lula said. "I'm gonna squash this guy like a roach."
"No. No, no, no, no, no roach squashing. No unnecessary force."
"Sure," Lula said. "I know that. But we could use necessary force, right?"
"Necessary force won't be necessary."
"Just don't beat the crap out of him like you did with the computer nerd," Vinnie said. "I keep telling you, kick them in the kidney where it don't show."
"Must be scary being related to him," Lula said, looking over at Vinnie.
Connie filled in my authorization to apprehend and gave the file back to me. I dropped it into my bag and hiked my bag higher on my shoulder. "Later."
"Later," Connie said. "And watch out for garbage trucks."
I beeped the alarm off, and Lula and I got in the Beemer.
"This is cushy," Lula said. "Big woman like me needs a car like this. I sure would like to know where Ranger gets all these cars. See that little silver strip with the numbers on it. That's your registration number. So theoretically this car isn't even stolen."
"Theoretically." Ranger probably had those strips made by the gross. I punched Morelli's number into the car phone and after six rings I got his answering machine. I left a message and tried his pager.
"Not that it's any of my business," Lula said, "but what's going on with you and Morelli? I thought that was over with you two when you moved out."
"It's complicated."
"Your problem is you keep getting involved with men who have lots of potential in bed and no potential at the altar."
"I'm thinking of giving men up altogether," I said. "Celibacy isn't so bad. You don't have to worry about shaving your legs."
The phone rang, and I answered it on the speakerphone.