“Holy cow!” Lula said. “He's going back to his apartment.”
We ran across the lot, barreled through the door, and took the stairs two at a time. When we got to Briggs' apartment the door was closed and locked.
“We know you're in there,” Lula yelled. “You better open this door.”
“You can huff and you can puff, but you'll never get through this door,” Briggs said.
“The hell we won't,” Lula told him. “We could shoot the lock off. And then we're gonna come in there and root you out like a rodent.”
No answer.
“Hello?” Lula called.
We listened at the door and heard the computer boot up. Briggs was going back to work.
“Nothing I hate more than a wise-?ass dwarf,” Lula said, hauling a .45 out of her purse. “Stand back. I'm gonna blast this door open.”
Drilling Briggs' door held a lot of appeal, but probably it wasn't practical to shoot up an apartment building for a guy who was only worth seven hundred dollars.
“No shooting,” I said. “I'll get the key from the super.”
“That isn't gonna do you no good if you're not willing to shoot,” Lula said. “He's still gonna have the security chain on.”
“I saw Ranger pop a door open with his shoulder.”
Lula looked at the door. “I could do that too,” she said. “Only I just bought this dress with them little spaghetti straps, and I wouldn't want to have a bruise.”
I looked at my watch. “It's almost five, and I'm having dinner with my parents tonight.”
“Maybe we should do this some other time.”
“We're leaving,” I hollered through Briggs' door, “but we'll be back. And you'd better be careful of those handcuffs. They cost me forty dollars.”
“We would have been justified to shoot our way in on account of he's in possession of stolen property,” Lula said.
“Do you always carry a gun?” I asked Lula.
“Don't everybody?”
“They released Benito Ramirez two days ago.”
Lula stumbled on the second step down. “That's not possible.”
“Joe told me.”
“Piece-?of-?shit legal system.”
“Be careful.”
“Hell,” Lula said. “He already cut me. You're the one who has to be careful.”
We swung through the door and stopped in our tracks.
“Uh-?oh,” Lula said. “We got company.”
It was Bunchy. He was parked behind us in the lot. And he didn't look happy.
“How do you suppose he found us?” Lula asked. “We aren't even in your car.”