“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate the help.”
Lula came back to the Buick with a copy of People magazine and some new lip gloss. “I’m thinking this investigating and detecting business is better than the bounty hunting business,” she said. “So far no one’s shot at us today. And we’re talking to people that don’t hate us.”
“True, but the day isn’t over.”
“So what else is on the list?”
Cluck-in-a-Bucket was on the discount list, but I knew it would be a waste of time. The staff was transient and there was no room for personal contact beyond the thirty seconds it took to order a Clucky Burger and fries. The multiplex was on the list. Another waste of time. Ironically, the funeral home on Hamilton was also on the list.
“We’re done,” I said to Lula.
“Just as well,” Lula said. “It’s almost lunchtime, and I only work half day on Saturday unless there’s something special going on. I got an appointment with Jolene for a manicure, and then I’m changing my hair color, being that pink was yesterday.”
“What’s tomorrow?”
“I’m feeling sparkly. I gotta talk to Latisha about it. She’s my colorist.”
I looked in the rearview mirror at my hair. It was brown.
“I like to coordinate my hair and my nails,” Lula said. “I think of them as accessories, and you know how I feel about the importance of correctly accessorizing.”
I dropped Lula off at the bonds office and continued down the street to Giovichinni’s. The businesses we’d just visited were relatively convenient for Lois Fratelli, but the other women had to go out of their way to get to them, which was even more difficult for them because none of them had a car. So maybe this was why the women seemed to run their errands on Saturday. They relied on others to take them shopping, and those others could only help out on Saturday.
Tina Giovichinni was working the deli counter, her white butcher’s apron smudged with mustard and ketchup and other unidentifiable stains. “What’s up?” she said. “You want your usual turkey club?”
“No. I’m going with ham and cheese on rye and a side of the homemade coleslaw.”
“You got it.”
“Are you going to the viewing tonight?”
“You mean for Rose Walchek? No, but my mother’s going. She knew Rose from Bingo.”
“Did Rose ever shop here?”
Tina shook her head. “Not that I can remember.” She wrapped my sandwich and put it into a white paper bag. “I’m surprised you’re not walking around in a disguise. I hear the whole Sunucchi family is looking for you.”
“I didn’t shoot him.”
“Too bad. I would have thrown in the coleslaw for free.”
I felt my eyebrows go up an inch. I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “You’re not in love with Uncle Sunny?”
“He wasn’t nice to my brother, Gino. He’s not nice to a lot of people.”
“I don’t suppose you know where he’s hiding.”
“When Sunny shops here he buys blood sausage and fresh fusilli. We carry the blood sausage just for him. No one else wants it. Yesterday Bella came in and bought blood sausage and fresh fusilli.”
Bella mostly lived with Joe’s mom. When Joe’s mom needed a break she shipped Bella off to one of the other relatives, but Bella always came back.
“Thanks,” I said to Tina.
“Don’t thank me,” Tina said. “I didn’t tell you anything.”
I parked on a side street around the corner from the Morelli house and ate my lunch. If Sunny was holing up there, he was effectively off-limits to me. I was never Joe’s mom’s first choice for a daughter-in-law. If I barreled into her house with guns drawn and took down her houseguest, I could kiss any future with Joe goodbye. And I couldn’t begin to guess what Bella would do. I suspected it would involve conjuring zombies and evil spirits, and shooting handheld missiles into my living room.
I called Morelli.
“What?” Morelli said.
“Are you in a bad mood?”
“I’m not in a good mood.”
“Because?”
“Bob horked up last night’s dinner on the rug.”
“What did you feed him?”
“Hot dogs.”
“Duh. Anything else?”
“My television isn’t working.”
“And?”
“That’s it.”
“That’s not much. I bet I can put you in a really bad mood.”
“Don’t do me any favors.”
“I think there’s a good possibility your mom is hiding Uncle Sunny.”