Seven Up - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,67

that sell stuff you don't want to know about," Lula said. "If they don't got a heart they'll go get one, no questions asked."

There were parts to Stark Street that made Bosnia look good. Lula worked Stark Street when she was a ho. It was a long street of depressed businesses, depressed housing, and depressed people.

It took us close to a half hour to get there, rumbling through center city, enjoying the custom pipes and the attention a hog demands.

It was a sunny April day, but Stark Street looked dreary. Pages from a newspaper cartwheeled down the street and banked against curbs and the cement stoops of cheerless row houses. Gang slogans were spray-painted on brick fronts. An occasional building had been burned and gutted, the windows blackened and boarded. Small businesses squatted between the row houses. Andy's Bar & Grill, Stark Street Garage, Stan's Appliances, Omar's Meat Market.

"This is the place," Lula said. "Omar's Meat Market. If it's used for dog food then Omar's gonna be selling it for soup. We just want to make sure the heart isn't still beating when we get it."

"Is it safe to leave the bike parked here at the curb?"

"Hell no. Park it on the sidewalk next to the window so we can watch it."

There was a large black man behind the meat case. His hair was buzzed short and was shot with gray. His white butcher's apron was blood-smeared. He had a thick gold chain around his neck and he wore a single diamond stud. He smiled ear-to-ear when he saw us.

"Lula! Looking good. Never see you anymore since you stopped working the street. Like the leather."

"This here's Omar," Lula said to me. "He's about as rich as Bill Gates. He just runs this butcher shop because he likes sticking his hand up chicken butts."

Omar tipped his head back and laughed, and the sound was a lot like the Harley echoing off the Stark Street storefronts.

"What can I do for you?" Omar asked Lula.

"I need a heart."

Omar didn't blink an eye. Guess he got requests for hearts all the time. "Sure," he said, "what kind of a heart do you want? What are you going to do with it? Make soup? Slice it and fry it?"

"I don't suppose you have any human hearts?"

"Not today. They're special order."

"What's the next closest thing, then?"

"Pig heart. Can't hardly tell the difference."

"Okay," Lula said, "I'll take one of those."

Omar went to the end case and pawed through a vat of organs. He picked one out and put it on the scale on a piece of waxed paper. "How's this?"

Lula and I looked around the scale at it.

"I don't know much about hearts," Lula said to Omar. "Maybe you could help us out here. We're looking for a heart that would fit a two-hundred-and-thirty-pound pig who just had a heart attack."

"How old is this pig?"

"Late sixties, maybe seventy."

"That's a pretty old pig," Omar said. He went back and picked out a second heart. "This one's been in the vat for a while. I don't know if the pig had a heart attack, but the heart don't look all that good." He poked it with his finger. "It's not that it's missing any parts, or anything, it just looks like it's been around the block, you know what I mean?"

"How much is it?" Lula asked.

"You're in luck. This one's on sale. I could let you have this one for half price."

Lula and I exchanged glances.

"Okay, we'll take it," I said.

Omar looked over the counter at the cooler in Lula's hand. "You want Porky wrapped up or do you want him packed in ice?"

ON THE WAY back to the office I pulled up for a light, and a guy on a Harley Fat Boy eased to a stop beside me.

"Nice bike," he said. "What have you got in the cooler?"

"A pig heart," Lula said.

And then the light changed and we both took off.

Five minutes later we were in the office, showing the heart to Connie.

"Boy, it looks like the real thing," Connie said.

Lula and I gave Connie some raised eyebrows.

"Not that I'd know," Connie said.

"This is gonna work good," Lula said. "All we have to do now is swap this for Granny."

Tendrils of fear curled in my stomach. Nervous little flutterings that took my breath away. I didn't want anything bad to happen to Grandma.

Valerie and I used to fight all the time when we were kids. I always had some crazy idea and Valerie always snitched on me