“How did he…?” I started.
This time, I figured it was the redhead who had the big mouth, Indy.
Jeez.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about it,” I said.
“I’m caught up in something. I can’t take your back.”
“That’s okay.”
More silence for a beat and then, “It’s not okay. I don’t want you on the streets without someone doin’ backup.”
“Crowe, I’ve been doing this alone for months.”
“You’re not doin’ it alone anymore.”
Again the macho-speak.
“Crowe –”
“I’ll ask around, get one of the guys to ride with you.”
“Crowe –” I started again but I heard the disconnect.
“God dammit!” I shouted at my dead phone.
“What?” Roxie asked.
“Vance is arranging for someone to ride with me tonight even though I’m perfectly fine going it alone. I mean, I did flip a drug dealer onto his back and nearly shot another one in the foot not a week ago and two nights ago, on my own, I dropped a pimp and two of his whores!” I snapped.
The customer service representative who was ringing up my sexy, silky, lacy, satiny delicate, pretty, girlie underwear gasped.
Roxie’s gaze swung to her then back to me and she giggled.
Then she said, “Ask Uncle Tex. He’s dying for some action.”
This was true, he was. But Tex was a little scary. Tex had an old gym bag full of tear gas at the ready. Tex, I thought, was not a good idea.
“I don’t think –” I started but she was already hitting the green button on her phone.
“Uncle Tex? It’s Roxie, listen Jules needs someone to ride with her tonight…”
I sighed and looked at the customer service representative. She looked pale.
“What can you do?” I asked her.
She shook her head and rushed through my purchase.
Call number eight came while we were walking towards California Pizza Kitchen. I pulled out my phone wondering if it could overheat. I’d never been this popular.
It was Zip and he didn’t have the courtesy to identify himself either.
“What? You got the big boys teachin’ you the fancy moves, you don’t need me, Heavy and Frank no more?”
Uh-oh.
“Zip –” I started.