We got into Lula’s Firebird, and Big started howling when the sound system ramped up.
“What the heck is wrong with the dog?” Lula asked.
“I think it’s your sound system,” I said.
“What?” she yelled at me.
“Sound system,” I yelled back. “Shut it off.”
Lula shut the sound off and Big stopped howling.
“Dogs have sensitive ears,” I said.
“I can’t drive without my tunes. I won’t be able to concentrate.”
“Maybe you could play your tunes not so loud,” I said.
“What’s the point to that?” Lula asked.
“Then maybe you could drive faster.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Moachie’s Grille was in the middle of the block on Kepler Street. Lula parked across from the Grille and I got out with Big and walked him up and down the street, looking in the Grille’s window. There was a bar with red leather stools on one side of the room, tables with white tablecloths and red napkins in the middle of the room, and four booths across the back wall. None of the booths were occupied. It was early for lunch. I went back to the car, and Big and I sat and waited for Harry to arrive.
“How are you going to know it’s Harry?” Lula asked.
“I’ve seen pictures, and I saw him at Vinnie’s wedding. He’s around five foot ten, overweight but not obese, brown hair that’s thinning. He looks like a banker. Respectable.”
The Grille started to fill up a little before noon. Harry showed up at 12:10. He fit my memory, but with less hair. He was wearing a tan suit. White shirt with the neck unbuttoned. No tie. Notsmiling. Walked with purpose. Probably he was hungry. I gave him some time to get settled and order.
“Do you want me to go in with you?” Lula asked.
“No. Wait here. I’m going in with Mr. Big.”
“Oh boy. Are you going to tell him to k-i-l-l?”
“No. That’s not part of the game plan.”
I had Big on a leash, but I picked him up and tucked him under my arm when I got to the Grille’s door. I walked in and took a moment to look around. Half of the tables were in use. Harry was in a booth at the back. None of the other booths were occupied. I nodded to the bartender and took a couple steps.
“Excuse me,” the bartender said. “You can’t bring the dog in here.”
“He’s a very small dog,” I said. “No one will notice.”
“It’s rules,” the bartender said.
“I’m going back to see Harry. Pretend you don’t see me.”
“What the hell,” he said. “Go on back. We’ve got rats in the kitchen that are bigger than that dog.”
I walked past the tables to Harry’s booth, making sure my bulging boobs weren’t being hidden by my sweatshirt. I stopped when I got to the booth and smiled at Harry. Big looked at him and gave a low growl.
“Hi,” I said. “Remember me?”
“No,” Harry said, “but I won’t forget you a second time.”
I slid onto the bench seat across from him and kept a tight grip on Big. “Stephanie Plum,” I said. “I work for you.”