Takedown Twenty(61)

Bear tossed me aside and went after Lula, chasing her into the apartment and around and around the couch. The gun was still lying on the floor, leaving me to reach the conclusion that Bear might be big and strong but he definitely wasn’t smart.

I scooped the gun up and held it with two hands. Awkward because of the splint on my broken finger. “Stop!”

“No way,” Bear said, still running circles around the couch after Lula.

“Get the fucking gun from her,” Antwan said to Bear.

Bear stopped and looked at me in surprise, like this was the first he saw that I had the gun. “How am I gonna do that?” Bear asked. “She’ll shoot me.”

Antwan was on his feet, hands still cuffed. “She’s not gonna shoot you. She’s just a dumb bitch. Look at her. She don’t even know how to hold a gun.”

Bear lunged at me and I fired off a shot. The gun kicked back and smacked me in the face. I saw stars and tasted blood, and my brain fogged for a beat.

Through the fog I heard Antwan yelling. “She shot off my ear! The fucking bitch shot off my ear!”

I’d intended the shot to go wide as a warning shot, but Antwan had moved at the wrong time and the round had obviously caught him on the side of the head. My face was throbbing, and blood was dripping off my nose onto my shirt. Lula was dancing in place, shrieking. Bear stood frozen, mouth open, eyes wide.

“Don’t just stand there,” Antwan said to Bear. “Get me to a fucking doctor.”

Bear slung Antwan over his shoulder, ran past me, and I heard him thundering down the stairs. I heard the front door open and slam shut. I was still holding the gun, and Lula was still shrieking.

“You can stop shrieking,” I said to Lula.

“Sorry,” Lula said. “I freaked when you shot off that cannon and everyone started gushing blood.”

“We need to get out of here before Antwan sends in someone with a brain and a gun.”

“Your nose don’t look good,” Lula said. “It’s swollen up already, and it’s making a right-hand turn.” She searched her purse and came up with a tissue. “You could stick this tissue up it for the time being. And you know what? Here’s my gun! I had my gun in here all the time. It must be what stopped the bullet when he shot up my purse, and it’s what gave him a good clunk on the head.”

I gave Antwan’s gun to Lula and took the tissue. I retrieved my messenger bag, and we crept down the blood-splotched stairs. We left the building and stood on the sidewalk in the pouring rain. No car.

“I don’t know what it’s coming to when people go around stealing cars in the rain,” Lula said. “Some people just don’t think what a inconvenience it is to other people when they steal a car in the rain.”

I walked, head down, to the corner and called Ranger.

“Someone stole your car,” I told him.

“We’re on it. Do you need a ride?”

“Definitely. And Lula’s with me.”

Ten minutes later Ranger pulled to the curb. I was drenched, I had two blood-soaked tissues stuck up my nose, my eyes were swollen almost shut, and my clothes and arms were streaked with rain-washed bloodstains. Ranger got out of his black Cayenne, and I saw the set of his mouth go grim.

“Babe,” he said.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I told him. “I just broke my nose.”

We drove in silence to the emergency clinic. I had my head tipped back, trying to stanch the blood flow, and Lula was in the backseat, trying to fluff her Marilyn wig.

Ranger checked me in at the clinic and called for one of his men to take Lula back to her car. I got an incredibly painful shot of Novocaine, had my nose realigned and taped, had a dry bandage put on my broken finger, and was sent home with cold packs.

“So you did this to yourself?” Ranger asked.

“I shot off a monster gun, and it kicked back into my face.”

“And the other guy?”

“I shot his ear off.”

Ranger grinned.

“Unfortunately he got away.”

Ranger took me home and walked me to my door. “The guy with one ear is probably going to come after you,” he said. “Be careful.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

I hadn’t identified myself at the apartment, and with luck Antwan didn’t know who I was or where to find me.



Morelli showed up at seven o’clock with Bob, a pizza box, a six-pack, and a bag from the drugstore. He looked at me and went pale.

“It’s just a broken nose,” I said, squinting at him through eyes that were reduced to slits in a face that looked like a Tequila Sunrise gone wrong.

“What happened?”

“Do you want the long version or the short version?”