“You stole that Brahmin, didn’t you? You went back to Randy Berger’s garage and lifted a handbag.”
“I didn’t steal it,” Lula said. “I rescued it. It was being held hostage there.”
The giraffe truck slowly rolled down the street, and when it turned the corner we could see Kevin looking out at us. With its twenty-foot-high canvas roof, the truck looked like a horse trailer on steroids. Everyone waved at Kevin, and he disappeared from view, on his way to the Naples Zoo.
Lula and I returned to Ranger’s loaner SUV, and just for the heck of it I drove past the basketball court. It was almost two o’clock and the court was deserted except for a lone figure sitting on a bench, looking into the court through the chain link fence. It was Antwan. He still had the big white bandage on his ear, and now he had an additional bandage on his foot. Crutches rested against the bench.
“I bet Shaneeka shot him in the foot,” Lula said.
I idled on the side of the road, and we watched Antwan for a couple minutes.
“He looks depressed,” Lula said. “You think we should go cheer him up?”
“We’re supposed to be trying to arrest him.”
“Yeah, but that was back when you were a bounty hunter. Of course, if you wanted to be a bounty hunter again then we could slap some cuffs on him. We don’t have to worry about him running away from us. And we don’t have to worry about him hearing us creep up on him. And he probably don’t even have a gun, since I still have his gun.”
“Kind of takes all the fun out of it,” I said.
Lula nodded. “I see what you’re saying.”
We watched him for another minute.
“Oh hell,” I said. “Let’s take him down.”
“Freakin’ A!” Lula said. “My girl’s back in the saddle.”