“You are so clever,” Judey said. “There’s not a car made that you can’t steal.”
“Thanks, but the newer ones are impossible. Lucky this was an old Escort.”
I took off in the Pizza Time car with Judey following in the rental.
FOURTEEN
I drove by the condemned bungalow once to check things out. Nothing had changed. Same car at the curb. Judey was following me. When I did my second lap around the block, Judey dropped back and parked the rental in the spot I’d vacated earlier.
Now or never, I thought. I took a deep breath and yanked the Pizza Time car into the driveway. I got out, walked around the car to the passenger side, and got the pizza box and the soda. I marched up to the front door and rang the bell. Nothing. No bell sound. The bell wasn’t working. Great. I knocked as hard as I could. Still no action.
“Hey!” I yelled. “Anybody home?” And I gave the door a good kick.
I could hear someone mumbling behind the door. The door opened and a big sweaty guy looked out at me.
“What?” the guy said.
“Pizza.”
“You’re late.”
“I would have been on time if you’d opened the door when I got here. You need to get your bell fixed. What are you doing here, anyway? It looks like all these houses are condemned.”
“I work for the guy who’s gonna build here. We’re doing…research.”
“That’s twelve-fifty.”
“I’m gonna give you fifteen ’cause you’re cute.”
He gave me fifteen. I told him to have a nice day. And I got into my stolen car and left. I got to NW Twentieth Street and saw flashing lights behind me. Shit. I pulled over, got out, and walked back to the cop car. As luck would have it, it was the same cop who pulled me over yesterday.
“Oh man,” he said. “Not you again. Give me a break.”
“I’m on a secret mission.”
“Of course you are.”
“And that’s my partner behind you.”
Judey was idling behind the cop car, a forced smile on his face. Brian was in the seat next to Judey, front paws on the dash, schnauzer eyebrows drawn together in concentration, staring the cop down.
The cop looked back at Judey. “The gay guy with the dog? Are you kidding me?”
“How do you know he’s gay?”
“I’m a cop. I know these things. And his dog’s wearing one of them rainbow collars.”
“Maybe it’s just his dog that’s gay.”
“Lady, I don’t want to go there. My nuts are shrinking up in my scrotum just thinking about it.”
“Listen, I sort of have things to do…”
“Like go to jail?”
“You’re not going to make me call the guys with the blue flashy grille lights, are you?”
“Scala and Martin? No! Don’t do that. I hate those guys.”