“I like it,” DeAngelo said to Lula. “You want to spank me?”
“No, I don’t want to spank you,” Lula said. “That’s disgusting. I don’t know you good enough to want to spank you.”
DeAngelo winked at her and went to pick up his coffee.
“He’s giving me the runs,” Lula said.
I pushed back from the table. “I have to talk to the FBI this morning.”
“Then what?” Lula asked. “Who’s up for today?”
“Big Buggy and my RAV4 for starters. I’ll call when I’m done downtown.”
TEN
BERGER, THE FBI ARTIST, and Chuck Gooley were waiting for me in a conference room on the sixth floor. We started with face shapes, and from there we went to specifics like eyes and mouth and nose. By the time we were done, I was thoroughly confused and had no idea if the drawing even remotely resembled the guy in the photo.
“So is this the guy?” Berger asked me, pointing to the composite sketch.
“Sure,” I said. “Maybe. So about the maniac in my kitchen who wanted to kill me …”
“What did he look like?”
“Middle Eastern complexion. Lots of unruly curly black hair. Crazy eyes. Six foot. Slim. Early forties. An accent I couldn’t place. Tattoo of a rose on his knife hand.”
“I’ll feed it into the system and let you know if we get a match.”
I left the sixth floor, exited the building, and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk because Lancer and Slasher were standing by the Buick, half a block away. Okay, here were my options. I could call Berger, but I wasn’t sure what that would accomplish. Berger’d made it clear my safety wasn’t his priority. I didn’t want to drag Morelli away from his murders. If I asked Ranger for help, he’d have me under twenty-four-hour surveillance. Ranger tended to be overprotective.
I decided none of those options were going to work for me, so I transferred my stun gun from my bag to the pocket on my sweatshirt and approached Lancer and Slasher.
“Hey,” I said. “What’s new?”
Lancer was leaning against the Buick’s passenger-side door. “Looks like you’re cozy with the FBI.”
“They’re interested in the photograph.”
“No shit,” Lancer said. “Did you give it to them?”
“I told them the same thing I told you. I don’t have it.”
“Yeah, but you saw it, right?”
“Wrong.”
“You’re lying,” Lancer said. “I can tell.”
“There’s another guy after the photograph,” I said. “Tall, curly black hair, looks Middle Eastern, rose tattoo on his hand.”
Lancer and Slasher looked at each other and grimaced.
“Raz,” Lancer said.
“Who’s Raz?” I asked.
“No one knows his real name,” Lancer said. “Raz is short for Razzle Dazzle. That’s what he goes by. You don’t want to deal with him. He has no scruples.”
“I don’t get it,” I said to Lancer. “Why is everyone so interested in this photograph?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care,” Lancer said. “We were hired to get it.”
“Who hired you?”
“That’s none of your business. If you don’t have the photograph, I bet you know where it is. And I bet we could get you to tell us. We got ways of making girls talk.”
Slasher smiled. “Yeah, we got good ways.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, “but there’s still nothing I can tell you about the photograph. And as much as I’d love to stay and chat, I’m afraid I have to go now.”
“And I’m afraid we can’t let you,” Slasher said.
He reached out to grab me, I gave him a shot with my stun gun, and he crumpled to his knees.
“Hey,” Lancer said to me. “Those things are illegal. You’re not allowed to do that.”
Zzzzt. I zapped Lancer, and he went down, too.
I looked around to see if anyone had noticed. No cars screeched to a stop. No concerned pedestrian rushed at me. Good deal. I relieved Lancer and Slasher of their wallets, scrambled into the Buick, and took off.
• • •
By the time I got to the coffee shop, my breathing had returned to normal and my heart had stopped skipping around in my chest. Lula was alone at the table in the window with four untouched cups of coffee in front of her, working at a crossword puzzle.
“What’s with the coffee?” I asked her.
“I feel like I gotta buy something once in a while since I’m sitting here, but the only thing I’m drinking is Pepto-Bismol. Connie and Vinnie went to sign the rental agreement for the temporary office. And then after that, they were going across the street to bond out a guy who set all the birds loose in the pet store at the mall. He was singing that Born Free song and waving a double-barrel shotgun around, scaring the living daylights out of everyone.”