“There’s going to be a giraffe roundup tomorrow at noon. Some people are coming in from one of the wildlife agencies. If they can get the giraffe unharmed, there’s a zoo in Naples, Florida, that’ll take it.” Morelli tipped his head back and closed his eyes. “I’m beat. This was a long day. I’m so tired I don’t even care about the bag from the drugstore.”
“That’s a first,” I said. “I’ve never known you to be that tired.”
Morelli grinned. “I could probably force myself to rise to the occasion if you were desperate for me.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
LULA AND I stood behind a barricade at Fifteenth and Freeman that had been set up to keep people from encroaching on the giraffe roundup area. A bunch of residents of the Fifteenth and Sixteenth blocks were standing there with us. They’d been feeding and cleaning up after Kevin while he’d clip-clopped down the back alleys, evading capture by Sunny’s henchmen.
“I’m happy Kevin’s gonna get a good home in Florida,” Lula said. “I might even visit him at the zoo. I talked to some of the giraffe wranglers, and they said they wouldn’t have any problems catching Kevin. It turns out he was born in Philadelphia, and he’s used to people, unless they chase him in a car and try to shoot him with a dart gun.”
“Did they know how Sunny got Kevin?”
“He stole him. Hijacked his truck. The zoo in Philadelphia had too many man giraffes, so they were already sending Kevin to that zoo in Florida. Kevin escaped when Sunny’s idiots tried to get him out of his truck.”
We could hear activity in the alley. It sounded like it was a block away. The wranglers had been working since early this morning, fencing off streets, shrinking the capture area. The goal was to get Kevin into his truck without sedation. One of the wranglers was tweeting and transmitting pictures, so we were all on our smartphones. A cheer went up from the alley, and a moment later the picture came through of Kevin in his truck.
“This here’s a happy ending,” Lula said. “It worked out for everyone. Kevin’s going to a good home. Old ladies don’t have to worry about getting choked and thrown into a Dumpster no more. It even worked out for Sunny on account of he died doing his favorite thing.”
I looked at Lula. She’d gotten dressed up for Kevin’s capture. She was wearing a tasteful beige suit and matching pumps. And she had a Brahmin handbag on her arm. It was a pretty bag with the classic Brahmin leather pattern and the little Brahmin gold tag.
“That’s a real Brahmin, isn’t it?” I asked her.
“You bet your ass,” Lula said. “I bought this suit to go with it. I didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about my character when I carry this bag. This here’s a elegant bag, and I don’t want to distract from it by someone trying to get a look up my
hoo-ha ’cause my skirt might have rode up.”
“You stole that Brahmin, didn’t you? You went back to Randy Berger’s garage and lifted a handbag.”
“I didn’t steal it,” Lula said. “I rescued it. It was being held hostage there.”
The giraffe truck slowly rolled down the street, and when it turned the corner we could see Kevin looking out at us. With its twenty-foot-high canvas roof, the truck looked like a horse trailer on steroids. Everyone waved at Kevin, and he disappeared from view, on his way to the Naples Zoo.
Lula and I returned to Ranger’s loaner SUV, and just for the heck of it I drove past the basketball court. It was almost two o’clock and the court was deserted except for a lone figure sitting on a bench, looking into the court through the chain link fence. It was Antwan. He still had the big white bandage on his ear, and now he had an additional bandage on his foot. Crutches rested against the bench.
“I bet Shaneeka shot him in the foot,” Lula said.
I idled on the side of the road, and we watched Antwan for a couple minutes.
“He looks depressed,” Lula said. “You think we should go cheer him up?”
“We’re supposed to be trying to arrest him.”
“Yeah, but that was back when you were a bounty hunter. Of course, if you wanted to be a bounty hunter again then we could slap some cuffs on him. We don’t have to worry about him running away from us. And we don’t have to worry about him hearing us creep up on him. And he probably don’t even have a gun, since I still have his gun.”
“Kind of takes all the fun out of it,” I said.
Lula nodded. “I see what you’re saying.”
We watched him for another minute.
“Oh hell,” I said. “Let’s take him down.”
“Freakin’ A!” Lula said. “My girl’s back in the saddle.”
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