should make another pass?"
"Wouldn't hurt," Lula said. "And I'd forget about getting a job here."
I WANTED TO do a fast check on Hannibal's town house and I didn't want to get Lula involved in my Ranger business, so I told her a fib about spending the day bonding with Bob, and drove her back to the office. I slid to a stop at the curb and the black Town Car eased up behind me.
Mitchell got out of the Town Car and came to peek in my window. "Still driving this old Buick," he said. "Must be some kind of a personal record for you. And what's with the dog and the big babe, here?"
Lula gave Mitchell the once-over.
"It's okay," I told Lula. "I know him."
"I bet," Lula said. "You want me to shoot him, or something?"
"Maybe later."
"Hunh," Lula said. She heaved herself out of the car and ambled into the office.
"Well?" Mitchell asked.
"Well, nothing."
"That's real disappointing."
"So, you don't like Alexander Ramos?"
"Let's just say we're not on the same team."
"Must be hard for him these days, grieving over his son."
"That son was nothing to grieve over," Mitchell said. "He was a fuckin' loser. Fuckin' cokehead."
"How about Hannibal? Does he do drugs, too?"
"Nah, not Hannibal. Hannibal's a goddamn shark. Alexander should have named that one Jaws."
"Well, I've gotta go now," I said. "Things to do. People to see."
"The raghead and me haven't got a lot to do today, so we thought we'd follow you around."
"You should get a life."
Mitchell smiled.
"And I don't want you following me around," I said.
He smiled some more.
I glanced up at the traffic coming toward us on Hamilton and focused on a blue car. Looked like a Crown Victoria. Looked like Morris Munson behind the wheel!
"Yikes!" I yelled as Munson yanked the car over the white line and aimed it at me.
"Shit!" Mitchell yelped, panicked, dancing in place like a big trained bear.
Munson swerved to avoid Mitchell at the last second, lost control, and crashed into the Town Car. For a moment the cars seemed fused together, and then there was the sound of Munson gunning his engine. The Crown Vic jumped back a couple feet, its front bumper clattered to the ground, and it sped away.
Mitchell and I ran back to the Town Car and looked in at Habib.
"What by everything holy was that?" Habib shouted.
The Town Car's left front quarter panel was crumpled into the wheel, and the hood was buckled. Habib seemed okay, but the Town Car wasn't going anywhere until someone crowbarred the fender away from the wheel. Too bad for them. Lucky break for me. Habib and Mitchell weren't going to be in following mode for a while.
"He was a madman," Habib said. "I saw his eyes. He was a madman. Did you get his license plate number?"
"It happened so fast," Mitchell said. "And cripes, he was coming right at me. I thought he was aiming for me. I thought . . . Jeez, I thought . . ."
"You were frightened like a woman," Habib said.
"Yeah," I said, "like the daughter of a pig."
Now here was a dilemma. I dearly wanted to tell them who was behind the wheel of the car. If they killed Munson, I was off the hook. No more flaming shirttails. No more maniac with a tire iron. Unfortunately, I'd also be sort of responsible for Munson's death, and that didn't feel entirely comfortable. Better to leave him to the court.
"You should report this to the police," I said. "I'd stick around and help out, but you know how it is."
"Yeah," Mitchell said. "Things to do. People to see."
IT WAS ALMOST noon when Bob and I rolled past Hannibal's town house. I parked at the corner and dialed Ranger's number to tell his answering machine I had news. Then I chewed on my lower lip some while I worked up enough nerve to get out of the car and snoop on Hannibal.
Hey, it's no big deal, I told myself. Look at the house. Nice and quiet. He isn't home. Just like yesterday. You go around back, take a peek, and leave. No sweat.
Okay, I can do this. Deep breath. Think positive. I grabbed Bob's leash and headed for the bike path behind the houses. When I got to Hannibal's backyard I stopped and listened. Very quiet. Plus, Bob looked bored. If someone was on the other side of the wall Bob would be excited, right? I studied the wall. Daunting. Especially since I'd gotten shot at the last time