Vinnie pointed at Lula. “I’m giving you a promotion. You’re the new bounty hunter.”
“Not me,” Lula said. “I don’t mind being the assistant bounty hunter, but I’m not taking over as bounty hunter. It’s a terrible job. Everybody hates you and shoots at you. Look at Stephanie. She’s a mess.”
I pulled a folder with all my paperwork out of my messenger bag and handed it to Connie. “These are all the open cases.”
“What are you gonna do?” Lula asked. “You got another job?”
“Maybe.”
Randy Berger’s deli was on the edge of the Burg. It had formerly been known as Schmidt’s Meats, and Randy had changed the name to Berger’s Bits. The place was primarily a butcher shop, but there were a few staples on shelves in the front of the store, plus there were racks of condiments. It was next to a store that sold cupcakes, and beyond the cupcake store was a dry cleaner and a pet groomer.
I parked in the small lot next to Berger’s Bits and worked on my enthusiasm. This could be great, I told myself. It would be safe. I’d keep regular hours. And I’d learn something about meat. Morelli would like that. Meat was one of his favorite things.
I’d been in the store a couple times when I’d run errands for my mom, but not recently. Mostly she shopped at Giovichinni’s, because it was closer. If Randy Berger gave her a discount she’d be shopping there. There were two large plate glass windows on either side of the door in the front of the store. They were papered with handwritten specials and ads for lottery tickets. The register was just inside the door. One register. One plump lady working the register. She was wearing a bright blue smock with “Berger’s Bits” embroidered over her left breast. “Janice” was embroidered under “Berger’s Bits.”
I walked to the back of the store, where Randy Berger was waiting on an elderly woman. A second woman patiently stood in line. Randy saw me, and his face flushed even more scarlet than usual, but it was no match for my green and black bruising.
“I’ll be with you in a minute,” he said.
I attempted a smile. “No problem.”
Immaculate glass cases lined three sides of the store. The poultry, lamb, beef, pork, and sausages were nicely displayed, considering it was all dead flesh. Cook it up and put some gravy on it and I’m happy. Anything precooking and I’m one step from gag. With the possible exception of bacon. Bacon comes shrink-wrapped in strips and has no relationship to anything other than bacon. I know there are rumors that bacon originates with Porky Pig, but I find that incomprehensible. If Randy gave me a job I hoped I’d get put in charge of the bacon. Sausage would be okay too.
The second woman whisked past me with her packet of meat wrapped in butcher paper, and I returned to the back of the store, where Randy was wiping down a counter.
“What would you like?” he asked. “The lamb racks are nice today.” He looked up from his cleaning, and his eyes glazed over as he took in my face.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I told him. “I had a gun kick back and smack me in the nose.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
“No. It was partly because my broken finger made it hard to hold the gun.” I held my finger up for him to see. “Anyway, I came in to see if the job was still open. I think I’m ready for a change.”
“I thought you didn’t like meat and poultry.”
“That was yesterday. And I’ve always liked bacon.”
“I could really use some help,” Randy said. “When can you start?”
“Now.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with the broken nose and all?”
“Yep. I’m good. I can almost breathe through one side.”
“I guess I could use you in the back room today if you don’t mind doing mostly cleanup. It would help me out a lot. I have a big barbecue order to fill, I got a truck coming in with a side of beef, and I got a pig in the smoker out back.”
“Gee, that sure sounds exciting.”
“It’s just the beginning. You’re going to love this job. I’m going to start you off letting you watch the smoker for me. The pig’s already in it and cooking. You just have to make sure the smoker stays on the right temperature.”
I nodded. I thought I could manage that.
A woman stepped up to the counter and Randy sliced off a half pound of Virginia baked ham for her. The woman went to the register, and Randy turned back to me.
“For most of the day, there’s a steady stream of customers coming in, and I can’t wait on the customers and get anything else done, so I’m staying here until all hours doing butchering. With you here we should be able to split up the customers and the butchering and be home by nine.”