“I could help you—”
“No!”
“You didn't let me finish. I could help you drag him to the car. How are you going to get him to the car? You're going to need help, right?”
“Lula will help me.”
“Lula has class tonight. Remember she said she had to go to school tonight. Do you have anyone else who helps you? I bet you don't have anyone else, right?”
I was getting an eye twitch. Tiny, annoying muscle contractions below my right lower lid. “Okay,” I said, “you can come with me, but you can't talk. No talking.”
“Sure. No talking. My lips are sealed. Look at me, I'm locking my lips and throwing the key away.”
I PARKED HALF a block from Andy Bender's apartment, positioning my car between pools of light thrown by overhead halogens. Traffic was minimal. Vendors had closed up shop for the day, switching to nighttime pursuits of hijacking and shoplifting. Residents were locked behind closed doors, beer can in hand, watching reality television. A nice break from their own reality, which wasn't all that terrific.
Kloughn gave me a look that said now what?
“Now we wait,” I told him. “We make sure nothing unusual is going on.”
Kloughn nodded and made the zippered mouth sign again. If he made the zippered mouth sign one more time I was going to smack him in the head.
After a half hour of sitting and waiting I was convinced that I didn't want to sit and wait a
nymore. “Let's take a closer look,” I said to Kloughn. “Follow me.”
“Shouldn't I have a gun or something? What if there's a shoot-out? Do you have a gun? Where's your gun?”
“I left my gun home. We don't need guns. Andy Bender has never been known to carry a gun.” Best not to mention he prefers chain saws and kitchen knives.
I approached Bender's unit as if I owned it. Bounty hunter rule number seventeen—don't look sneaky. Lights were on inside. The windows were curtained, but the curtains were a skimpy fit, and it was possible to look around the fabric. I put my nose to the window and stared in at the Benders. Andy was in a big, overstuffed recliner, feet up, open bag of chips on his chest, dead to the world. His wife sat on the tattered couch, eyes glued to the television.
“I'm pretty sure we're doing something illegal,” Kloughn whispered.
“There's all kinds of illegal. This is one of those things that's only a little illegal.”
“I guess it's okay if you're a bounty hunter. There are special rules for bounty hunters, right?”
Right. And there really is an Easter bunny.
I wanted to get into the apartment, but I didn't want to wake Bender. I walked around the building and carefully tried Bender's back door. Locked. I returned to the front and found that door locked, too. I gave a couple light raps on the door with my knuckles, hoping to get the wife's attention without waking Bender.
Kloughn was looking in the window. He shook his head. No one was getting up to answer the door. I rapped louder. Nothing. Bender's wife was concentrating on the television show. Damn. I rang the bell.
Kloughn jumped away from the window and rushed to my side. “She's coming!”
The door opened, and Bender's wife stood flat-footed in front of us. She was a large woman with pale skin, and a dagger tattooed on her arm. Her eyes were red-rimmed and dull. Her face expressionless. She wasn't as wasted as her husband, but she was well on the way. She took a step back when I introduced myself.
“Andy don't like to be disturbed,” she said. “He gets in a real bad mood when he's disturbed.”
“Maybe you should go to a friend's house, so you're not here if Andy gets disturbed.” Last thing I wanted was for Andy to beat on his wife because she let us disturb him.
She looked at her husband, still asleep in his chair. Then she looked at us. And then she took off, out the door, disappearing into the darkness.
Kloughn and I tiptoed up to Bender and took a closer look.
“Maybe he's dead,” Kloughn said.
“I don't think so.”