Connie was busy ramming her laptop and a bunch of files into her tote bag. “I’m moving to the coffee shop next to the hospital. They’ve got free WiFi, it smells better, it’s not always midnight, and it doesn’t move.”
Lula cranked the engine over. “Everybody strapped in?”
Connie pushed past me to the door. “Do not go over ten miles an hour,” she said to Lula. “Do not hit anything. Do not call me if you do hit something.”
I grabbed my purse and followed after Connie.
“Hey,” Lula said to me. “Where are you going? We’re supposed to be partners. What about all those times I got your back. And now here I am on a big adventure drivin’ a bus, and how could you be thinkin’ about not sharing this with me? Where’s the sharing? This could be a bonding experience.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Of course it’s a good idea. Just sit your skinny white hiney down. This is gonna be fun. I’m gonna be a good bus driver. I might even decide to take up bus driving professionally.”
Lula put the bus in gear, stepped on the gas, and backed into the state CSI truck.
“Did you hear something funny just then?” she asked.
“Yeah, I heard the sound of you backing into the crime scene van.”
“It was just a tap. I’ll ease forward a little.”
She changed gears and pulled away from the curb. “This thing don’t got a lot of get-up.”
The CSI guys were staring at us, mouths open, eyes wide. I looked in the side mirror and saw we were towing the van.
“I just gotta give it some juice,” Lula said.
She stomped on the gas, and the bus broke loose and jumped forward, leaving the van’s bumper in the middle of the road.
“Maybe you should pull over,” I said.
“No way. I’m getting the hang of it now.”
Lula cruised down Hamilton and sideswiped a bunch of parked cars.
“Holy cow,” I said. “You just ripped off two more bumpers and a mirror.”
“I guess this is wider than I originally thought. No problem, I’ll just make a course correction.”
She turned right off Hamilton, jumped the curb, and took out a mailbox.
“Um, federal property,” I said.
“People don’t use mail no more anyway. It’s all electronic. When was the last time you put a stamp on something? Remember when you had to lick them stamps? That was disgustin’.”
I looked behind us for police. “We sort of left the scene of a lot of crimes.”
“Yeah, but they weren’t big crimes. They didn’t hardly count. We could mail in those crimes, except we don’t mail anymore. But if we did mail shit that’s the way we’d take care of it.”
Lula rolled down Perry Street and spotted Vinnie in front of the courthouse. “What the heck is that next to Vinnie? I thought he said he had a package. That’s no package. That’s a big hairy guy on a leash. Probably I’m seeing things, but I swear he looks like a bear.”
It looked like a bear to me, too. It was big and brown, and it was wearing a red collar with a bow tie on it.
Vinnie led the bear to the bus and opened the door.
“ ’Scuse me,” Lula said, “but that looks like a bear.”
“It’s Bruce the dancing bear,” Vinnie said. “I bonded out his owner, and this was all the guy could come up with to secure the bond.”
“And what are you expectin’ to do with that bear? Because you better not be wanting to take that bear on my bus. I don’t allow no bears on my bus.”
“First of all, it’s not your bus.”
“It is when I’m drivin’ it. Who do you see sitting in the driver’s seat?”
“I see an unemployed file clerk,” Vinnie said. “Get your ass out of that seat. I’m driving the bus.”
“You fire me and Connie’ll be all over you. And be my guest drivin’ the bus. I was tired of drivin’ the bus anyways. It don’t steer right.”
Lula and I squeezed out the door, past the bear, and Vinnie and the bear got into the bus.
Lula peeked back into the bus. “I need a ride.”
Someone growled. I think it was Vinnie.
“Get in,” Vinnie said to Lula, “but don’t crowd the bear.” Vinnie looked out at me. “What about you? Do you need a ride?”
“Nope. I’m good.”
I wasn’t comfortable sharing a bus with a bear, bow tie or not. I watched the door close, and I waved to Lula as the bus drove off.
TWELVE
I STOOD THERE stranded in front of the courthouse and considered my options. I could call my dad. I could call Morelli. I could call a cab. I had my phone in my hand when a black Porsche 911 Turbo eased to a stop beside me. The tinted window slid down, and Ranger looked at me from behind dark glasses.