“This isn’t good,” Lula said. “We only got one FTA out there and it’s a vampire that I’d just as leave stay far away from. And we don’t know where he is anyway. What’s wrong with this town? It used to be full of crime. And now there’s nothing.”
“There’s crime,” Connie said. “There just aren’t any FTAs. Everybody is showing up for court.”
“Well that’s a real bitch,” Lula said. “How’s Stephanie gonna buy new clothes if there’s no work for her?”
“The two guys who are out there are high bonds,” I said. “If I could find them, I’d be in good shape.”
“One just flew off in a helicopter,” Lula said. “The other is probably sleeping it off in a coffin somewhere.”
“I want to know where Jug went,” I said. “Helicopters are short range, so either it took Jug to an airport to connect with a plane or else it took him to someplace relatively close.”
Connie googled the Sikorsky. “It says here that it has a range of three hundred air miles and can fly for about two and a half hours.”
“Run some checks on Jug,” I said to Connie. “Where does he have real estate? Check family and close friends. That helicopter took him somewhere perceived as safe. And see if you can find the estate where the helicopter touched down. We went over the Stark Street bridge and drove along Route 32, heading for New Hope. We were on that road for maybe a half hour before it turned off and went into an area of mixed forest and fields, and eventually, we turned right onto a paved gated driveway that ended up at a horse farm with a large stone house and circular drive. The Sikorsky was in a large, flat grassy field at the end of a single-lane paved drive.”
“Hold on,” Lula said. “I got the news streaming on my phoneand they’re talking about Jug. Some woman is saying she got a video of him with her fourteen-year-old daughter and they’re doing the nasty. According to the mom, Jug drugged her kid with a date-rape piece of fruit. She didn’t say what kind of fruit, but my money’s on a banana.”
“That’s disgusting,” Connie said. “That’s sick.”
I didn’t have a high opinion of Jug, but a sex crime involving a fourteen-year-old took things to a new low.
“And here’s a shot of the front of Jug Produce with a bunch of crazy reporters and camera guys and a channel twelve satellite truck. That’s probably why Stephanie’s car got moved. They didn’t want to drop us off in the middle of the circus. We were parked right at the front door.”
And I thought they probably didn’t want us talking to the press about a possible sex crime after Bruno had just asked us about a happy ending. Truth is, while I was horrified, I was also relieved. My fear had been that I’d stumbled into a mob turf war that could have been fatal for Lula and me. An ugly scandal was manageable.
“One mystery solved,” I said. “And since Mr. and Mrs. Jug aren’t in residence, I think this would be a good time to break into their house. Maybe there’s a clue about their hidey-hole.”
“And?” Lula asked.
“And then we could go get Jug and bring him back here and I could pay off my credit card. The alternative is to go door-to-door on Stark Street, looking for Zoran.”
“Okay then,” Lula said. “Let’s do some B & E.”
I drove to Merrymaster Street, parked around the corner, and Lula and I walked back to Jug’s house. I went to the front door and realized that the house had a Ring doorbell. We were on camera. There were glass panels on both sides of the door. I looked in one and saw an alarm unit with a blinking light.
“Nobody home,” I said to Lula. “We’ll come back some other time.”
We left the house and walked back to the car.
“That was a bust,” Lula said.
“I should have known he’d have a security system. The back door might not have a camera, but we would set off the house alarm.”
“I’m not doing plan B,” Lula said. “I got no protection against vampires. I used part of my necklace in spaghetti sauce last night.”
“I’m not going door-to-door, but I’m going to drive down the first three blocks of Stark. I know he’s there.”
“I guess that would be reasonable as long as we aren’t getting out of the car. And then after we drive down those three blocks we’re going back to the office, right? It’s way past lunchtime, and I’m thinking about those cupcakes we left behind. Not that we would have them for lunch, but we could have themafterlunch. I know you’re trying to be healthy for the little tyke. Have you thought of a name?”
“No! I’m not even sure I’m pregnant.”
“When can you take the test?”
“Tomorrow is the earliest to see if I’m pregnant. I can’t take a paternity test for six more weeks.”
“Six weeks is a long time. How are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know. One day at a time.”