I nodded, “Thanks.” As I opened Shamu’s door, they started snickering. Somehow, they had gathered up several dozen plastic toy figures of fish characters from that animated Disney movie, Finding Nemo, and hung them throughout the interior. It was like looking into an aquarium.
Oh, they were rolling on the ground when I climbed in. Oscar made fish faces at me, moving his hands behind his ears like flapping gills as I drove off the lot and into traffic. After two miles and hundreds of stares, I knew what it was like to live in a fishbowl.
CHAPTER 5
Hondo’s Mercedes was at the office and I parked beside him. He was sitting at his desk sharpening his SOG knife when I opened the door.
“Magilla Gorilla,” I said.
“What?”
“Man, you need to know your competition if you’re going to work in this town. How could you not know about him?”
“Are you talking about Magilla Sykes?”
I shifted my eyes around, “Uhh, sure. Yeah.”
“What about him?”
I went to my desk and propped my feet up, “First, you tell me what you know about Magilla. I’ll fill you in on what you’re missing.”
“He’s not somebody to mess with.”
“Hah! I know much more than that.”
Hondo folded his knife and put it in his pocket. “So tell me.”
“Remember the black cowboy we saw on the tape? His name is John Wesley. I think he’s working with Magilla, and they were both chasing our mystery girl right before she lifted the Firebird.”
“You know this how?”
“Superior detective abilities, of course. Ronny Baca, Super Detective, that’s me.” Hondo rested his forearms on his desk and looked at me like you’d look at a tiresome kid.
“Okay, okay,” I said, “There was a 7-Eleven down the street from the car lot and the store had a surveillance camera pointed in the right direction. They let me look at the tapes and I saw the girl dodging Magilla and John Wesley as they drove around looking for her. I didn’t know their names right then, so I described them to the wash guys at the car lot. They told me John Wesley and Magilla’s names.”
Hondo got up. “Let’s find Magilla.”
“Whoa there, amigo. You just said he’s not somebody to mess with.”
“I’m not worried, I’ve got Super Detective with me.”
We took Hondo’s Mercedes, but not before Hondo got a look at the fish inside Shamu’s cab. “You have some serious problems,” he said.
“Hey, it wasn’t me. I couldn’t find a knife or scissors or anything to use to cut them down.”
Hondo handed me his knife, crossed his arms and waited. I opened the cab and cut the monofilament fishing lines holding the plastic fish. Hondo’s knife is so sharp it seemed that I barely had to touch the blade to the strings. Me, I can work on a knife for hours, sharpening and sharpening, and maybe get it to cut a few hairs off my forearm. Hondo, on the other hand can take a butter knife and give it a few whacks on a stone and the darn thing will cut through a dropped silk scarf like a Damascus sword.
After I had all the plastic toys gathered in my arms, I started toward the Mercedes. Hondo said, “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to give them to you, as a gift.”
“I don’t want them in my car.”
“It’ll go good with the paint job, make you seem more festive.” I held out one that looked like a small angelfish, “See how colorful? Be just what you need to perk up your appeal to the opposite sex.”
“No.”
“Ohh, okay,” I said.