“Like an apple. Or a Cheez Doodle. Nothing crunches on this diet. Meat doesn't crunch. I'm crunch deprived.”
I was a baton twirler when I was in high school. And that's how I felt now . . . like I was leading a parade. I pulled away from the curb and Cal pulled away from the curb. I drove to my apartment building. Cal followed me to my apartment building. We all parked in the lot. We all got out of our cars. We all took the elevator to the second floor. Then everyone followed me down the hall to my apartment. First Lula, then Cal, and then Junior. Junior was a clone of Cal, except for the tattoo. Junior was tattoo free. At least what I could see of him was tattoo free, and that was more than enough for me.
Cal opened the door to my apartment and took a look inside. Nothing out of the ordinary popped up, so we all trooped in. I filled a laundry basket with clothes and personal stuff and moved some things around to free up space for Valerie. While I was freeing space I could hear Lula trying to make conversation with Cal.
“Hey,” Lula said, “what's going on?”
“What do you mean?” Cal asked.
“I don't mean anything,” Lula said. “That's one of those things you say when you're trying to be friendly. That's an opening line.”
“Oh.”
“I heard you hit your head when you fainted in the hospital,” Lula said.
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay now?”
“Yeah.”
“I could be wrong here,” Lula said, “but I think you're dumb as a box of rocks.”
“Sticks and stones,” Cal said.
There was a moment of silence where I figured Lula was regrouping.
“So,” Lula finally said to Cal. “Are you married?”
The whole packing process took less than ten minutes. I'd been moving clothes piece by piece to Morelli's house over the last couple days and there wasn't a lot left. I handed the laundry basket over to Junior and everyone marched out to the hall and waited while I locked up. I took a last look at the closed door and had to choke back a panic attack. I was turning my apartment over to my sister. I was homeless. What if I had a fight with Morelli? What then?
Junior put the laundry basket in the back of the Escape and we all got into our cars.
“Where are we going?” Lula wanted to know.
“We're going to TriBro. I'm not sure what I'm going to do once I get there. I guess I'll figure it out then.”
I cut across town and picked up Route 1. It was the middle of the day and traffic was light. Cal had no problem following me. I took the off-?ramp that led to the industrial park and wound through the park to TriBro. I parked toward the back of the lot and I sat there, watching.
“The killer s in that building,” I said to Lula.
“You think it’s Bart?”
“I don't know. I just know it has to be someone at TriBro.”
After a half hour Lula was restless. “I gotta get something to eat,” she said. “I gotta stretch my legs. I'm all cramped up in this car.”
I was hungry, too. I didn't know what I was doing in the lot anyway. Waiting for divine intervention, I supposed. A message from God. A sign. A clue!
I put the car in gear and left the lot with the Steroidapods following close behind. I drove down Route 1 for a couple miles, took the turnoff to the mall, and parked at the Macy's entrance. This is always a good place to park because you hit the shoe department first thing while you still have lots of energy.
Lula pushed through the double glass doors and stood in the middle of the aisle. “They're having a sale!” she said. “Look at all those racks of shoes on sale.”
I looked at the racks and for the first time in Plum history, I didn't want to shop. My mind wouldn't move off the carnation killer. I was thinking of Lillian Paressi and Fisher Cat and Singh and Howie. And probably there were a lot others. I knew of two games, but there might have been more. I was thinking of my sister's baby and the fact that I didn't have one. And maybe never would.
“Look at those sandals with the four-?inch heels and rhinestones,” Lula said. “You can't go wrong with rhinestones. And heels always make your legs look real shapely. I read that in a magazine.”
Lula had her shoes off, looking for a pair of the sandals in her size. She was wearing a poison green spandex tube top and yellow stretch pants that matched my car and came to mid-?calf. She found the sandals, slipped them on and paraded in front of the mirror.