“No big deal,” Diesel said to Carl. “Just a lot of flash.”
“Effective flash,” I said to Diesel. “It’s going to get rid of Mensher.”
“For the moment,” Diesel said. “Don’t underestimate Mensher. He’s like a dog with a bone. He might not know exactly how to categorize Wulf, but he knows for sure he’s not normal.”
Wulf calmly walked up the sidewalk and disappeared inside his house. Mensher and his team huddled together in front of the burning van. Fire trucks screamed from blocks away.
“We can go home now,” Diesel said, cranking the engine over. “The Wulf Show is done for the night.”
Twenty minutes later, Diesel pulled into a strip mall in Swampscott and parked in front of an all-night supermarket.
“We need food,” he said. “You cleaned us out when you were on your eating rampage.”
We slid out, locked the Cayenne, walked a few feet, and . . . beep, beep, beep.
“Tell me again why we have this monkey,” Diesel said.
“No one else would take him.”
“And?”
“That’s it.”
“Why can’t we put him in a basket and leave him on the Humane Society doorstep? Or even better, pack him up in a box and FedEx him to India. They love monkeys in India.”
“I thought you were friends.”
“I knew him in a previous life,” Diesel said.
Beep, beep, beep, beep.
Diesel jogged back to the SUV, opened the door, and Carl bounded out.
“Do they let monkeys in the supermarket?” I asked Diesel.
“Put him in a shopping cart and make him sit on his tail, and people will think he’s a hairy kid. If anyone makes a remark, tell them you have rights and threaten them with a lawsuit.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
We got as far as the produce aisle with Carl in the cart, and a guy stacking grapefruits stopped me.
“Is that a monkey?”
“Are you making fun of my child?” I asked him.
“No, ma’am, but he’s kinda hairy.”
“He gets that from his father.”
The produce guy looked at Diesel.
“Not my bad,” Diesel said.
“Well, you gotta have clothes on your kid,” the guy said. “We don’t let naked kids in here, no matter how much hair they got.”
There was a small display of kids’ clothes by the checkout. Mostly T-shirts with Massachusetts written on them and a couple toddler-size shirts with pink elephants. I slipped an elephant shirt over Carl’s head, bought a package of Pampers, and taped Carl into one.
“What do you think?” I asked Carl.