Vinnie dove for cover under Connie’s desk.
The front door banged open, and DeAngelo stormed in, red-faced and crazy-eyed.
“Where is he? I know he’s here,” DeAngelo said. “Perverted, slimy little weasel.”
Lula stood. “Hey, look who’s here. It’s Spanky.”
DeAngelo looked over at Lula. “Your asshole boss filled my car with horse shit.”
Lula brushed herself off and adjusted her girls. “That car was all wrong for you anyways,” Lula said. “You should be driving something hot, like a Ferrari or one of them Lamborghinis. Or maybe some big ol’ muscle car. You just don’t belong in that plain-ass Mercedes. He did you a favor. You’d get a lot more complimentary BJs if you was driving a Ferrari.”
“You’re right,” DeAngelo said. “Tell your boss if he delivers on a Ferrari, I won’t kill him.”
DeAngelo turned on his heel, left the office, and was whisked away in the Escalade.
“That went pretty good,” Lula said.
Vinnie crawled out from under the desk. “Where am I going to get a Ferrari? Do you have any idea what a Ferrari costs? It costs more than my house.”
• • ?
?
“That was fun,” Lula said. “What are we gonna do next? I’m in a mood to wham somebody.”
“We need to pay another visit to Lahonka Goudge,” I said.
Lula hiked her bag onto her shoulder. “I’m up for that.”
We took my truck, and I drove into the projects and crept past Lahonka’s unit.
“We gonna be sneaky, or we just gonna bust in?” Lula asked.
“We’re going to ring her doorbell and politely but firmly reason with her.”
“Oh yeah,” Lula said. “That always works. How about I just wait in the truck.”
“Fine,” I said. “Wait in the truck. This won’t take long, because I have a positive attitude this morning, and I’m going to get the job done. I’m changing my juju.”
“Good for you,” Lula said. “Only you’d change your juju faster if you sneak up on her, put a pillowcase over her head, and hit her with a big stick. WHAM!”
I parked, and we both got out of the truck.
“I thought you were staying behind,” I said.
“I don’t want to miss the juju-changing moment,” Lula said.
“Scoff all you want, but you’ll see. I’m turning this around.”
“I’m not scoffin’,” Lula said. “Do I look like I’m scoffin’?”
“Yes.”
“Well, okay, maybe I’m scoffin’ a little.”
We threaded our way through the kids’ toys littering the sidewalk, and I rang Lahonka’s doorbell.
“Go away!” Lahonka yelled through the door.