Page 57 of Now or Never

“I’m an entrepreneur,” Herbert said. “I do a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Sometimes I’m thinking about a new project, and I want to see its surroundings, so I put a drone up.”

Just shoot me. An entire day with Herbert. Could life get any worse? An image of Zoran flashed through my head. Yes, I thought. Life could get worse. I could be the woman on the floorin the laundromat. I took a moment to make a mental adjustment. This won’t be so bad, I told myself. I could endure a day with Herbert if it meant capturing Jug. And to that end, a drone would be hugely helpful. So, take a deep breath and get on with it.

“We think Jug is at a location on Long Island,” I said to Herbert. “I was planning on leaving now, and depending on how things go, we might not get back to Trenton until late tonight.”

“Oh boy, this is going to be great,” Herbert said. “A road trip. I always wanted to see Long Island. A lot of rich people live there. I’m interested in rich people. I’ll go home and get my drone and I’ll be right back. I don’t live far away. I could bring my clarinet, too. I came to your apartment building to serenade you, but I’m not sure you heard me. The police came and made me leave. I guess it was pretty late for some of the people in your building, but still, who doesn’t like to hear a clarinet? I was playing show tunes. Everyone likes show tunes. And some Paul Simon. I’m a real Paul Simon fan. I was coming back from work, and I saw you had a light on in your bedroom, so I went and got my clarinet. Most people like when I play but I guess someone in your building complained. It only takes one person and the police have to come.”

“How late was this?” Lula asked.

“It was around midnight,” Herbert said.

“What kind of work were you doing at midnight?” Lula asked him.

“Entrepreneurial. I can’t go into details. It’s sort of secret.”

Herbert left and I sent Lula off to get cupcakes.

“Do you really think cupcakes are going to lure Jug into your car?” Connie asked me.

“Can’t hurt,” I said. “Besides, last time I saw him, I promised him cupcakes.”

“How are you going to get into the vineyard?”

“It’s got a gated driveway, but it would be easy to walk onto the property. Just have to scoot around some hedges. If it’s Jug and his wife and vineyard personnel on-site, it might not be so bad. I might be able to talk Jug into coming with me. If Lou and his henchmen are there it’ll be more complicated.”

“Do you think it would be better to take Ranger with you?”

“No. I don’t want this to turn into a guns-drawn standoff. I need to be sneaky.”

“Sneaky is always good,” Connie said. “I’m in favor of sneaky.”

Herbert was in the back seat, directly behind me. He was leaning forward, and he was breathing on my neck. It was high school all over again. We were a half hour out of Trenton, not even to the Jersey Turnpike, and I was already driving with teeth clenched.

“I got two dozen doughnuts,” Lula said. “There’s a box for Jug, and there’s a box for us. Anyone want a doughnut?”

“Yes,” I said.

“What kind?” Lula asked.

“Any kind!”

Lula gave me a maple glazed, handed a chocolate covered back to Herbert, and took a blueberry for herself. She surfed on her phone while she ate her doughnut.

“Look here,” she said. “Robin Hoodie just uploaded a new video. Last night he cleaned out a drugstore. I guess that makes sense. Homeless people need aspirin and Band-Aids just like anybody else. They look happy to get all that stuff but not as happy as when Robin Hoodie drove in with the taco truck.”

“Eugene is going to have his bail bond revoked,” I said. “It’s not smart to commit another crime when you’re out on bail.”

“I’ve been following this case,” Herbert said. “It’s actually very interesting from a legal point of view. The police have tied Mr. Fleck to the UPS truck hijacking. I believe they have physical evidence linking him to the truck.”

“Fingerprints,” Lula said.

“From the limited knowledge I’ve acquired from the press, it seems to me the police can only charge him with that one crime,” Herbert said. “I haven’t read about any evidence that would connect Mr. Fleck to subsequent Robin Hoodie escapades.”

“I never thought about it,” Lula said. “You might be right.”

“Maybe the police have evidence that they aren’t sharing,” I said.

Herbert nodded. “Very possible.”

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