the bench for a moment. He paced away from it. Nervous. Didn't want to sit down. He looked around, spotted me at the snack bar and silently mouthed something that looked like "Holy shit."
I had a short panic attack, fearing he'd come over to me, but then he turned and slouched onto the bench.
A black Jeep Cherokee rolled into the lot and parked next to Kuntz's Blazer. I didn't need a crystal ball to figure this one out. Joyce had followed Kuntz. Not much I could do about that now. I watched the car for a while but there was no action. Joyce was sitting tight.
Ten minutes ticked by. Fifteen minutes. Twenty. Nothing was happening. The park population had increased, but no one was approaching Kuntz, and I didn't see Maxine. Two guys carrying a cooler chest walked toward the water. They stopped and spoke to the jogger who was still sitting on the bench near Kuntz. I saw the jogger shake his head no. The two guys exchanged glances. There was a brief discussion between them. Then one of the guys opened the chest, took out a pie and smushed it into the jogger's face.
The jogger jumped to his feet. "Jesus Christ!" he shrieked. "What are you nuts?"
Lula was off the swing and moving in. Joyce ran down from the parking lot. Kuntz edged off his bench. Even Sally was on his feet.
Everyone converged on the jogger, who had one of the pie guys by the shirt. People were yelling "Break it up" and "Stop" and trying to untangle the two men.
"I was only doing my job!" the pie guy was saying. "Some lady told me to get the guy sitting on the bench by the fountain."
I glared at Eddie Kuntz. "You dunce! You were on the wrong bench!"
"The fountain, the flagpole . . . how am I supposed to keep track of these things?"
The aluminum pie plate and globs of chocolate cream pie were lying ignored on the ground. I fingered through the remains and found the scrap of paper, tucked into a plastic bag. I stuffed the bag, chocolate globs and all, into my purse.
"What's that?" Joyce said. "What did you just put in your purse?"
"Pie crust. I'm taking it home for my hamster."
She grabbed at my shoulder strap. "I want to see it."
"Let go of that strap!"
"Not until I see what you put in your purse!"
"What's going on here?" Lula asked.
"Stay out of this, fatso," Joyce said.
"Fatso," Lula said, eyes narrowed. "Who you calling fatso?"
"I'm calling you fatso, you big tub of lard."
Lula reached out to Joyce, Joyce made a squeak, her eyes went blank, and she crashed to the ground.
Everyone turned to Joyce.
"Must have fainted," Lula said to the crowd. "Guess she's one of those women can't stand to see men fighting."
"I saw that!" I said to Lula, keeping my voice low. "You zapped her with your stun gun!"
"Who me?"
"You can't do that! You can't zap someone just because they call you fatso!"
"Oh, excuse me," Lula said. "Guess I didn't understand that."
Joyce was coming around, making feeble movements in her arms and legs. "What happened?" she murmured. "Was I struck by lightning?"
Kuntz sidled up to me. "Like your disguise. Want to go out for a drink later?"
"No!"
"Try me," Sally said to Kuntz. "It's my wig. And I wouldn't look bad in that skirt, either."
"Jesus," Kuntz said to me. "Is he with you?"
"Damn right, I'm with her," Sally said. "I'm the fucking cryptographer. I'm part of the team."
"Some team," Kuntz said. "A fruit and a fatso."
Lula leaned forward. "First off, let me tell you something. I'm not a fatso. I happen to be a big woman." She reached into her purse and came out with the stun gun. "Second, how'd you like to have your brain scrambled, you dumb, overdeveloped gorrilla?"
"No!" I said. "No more brain scrambling."
"He called us names," Lula said. "He called Sally a fruit."
"Well, okay," I said. "Just this once, but then no more scrambling."
Lula looked at her stun gun. "Damn. I used all my juice. I got a low battery here."
Kuntz made a hands-in-the-air, I-give-up, I-hired-a-loser gesture and walked away. Several bystanders helped Joyce to her feet. And Lula and Sally and I retreated to the car.
"So what was it you and Joyce were squabbling about?" Lula wanted to know.
"I got another clue. As soon as I saw the pie I knew it was supposed to be for Eddie Kuntz, and I figured there was a clue in it. Joyce saw me