“Bob can ride wherever the heck he wants,” Lula said. “He’s my hero.”
I had to admit I was impressed. I’d never heard him growl like that. It was like he actually knew what was happening.
I cut across town to Hamilton Avenue and parked in front of the bail bonds office, and Sissy called.
“I don’t know if I should be making this phone call,” she said. “I just talked to Duncan. He didn’t sound good. He was in a lot of pain, which I guess is to be expected. It was a long car ride. Anyway, he’s seeing a doctor tomorrow. The thing is, he’s talking about leaving the country. Going to Thailand. Thailand! What is he going to do in Thailand?”
“Is he in Maine?”
“He’s with his brother. Wherever that is. You said you would help him. I think he needs help. He’s with Andrew, and I’m not sure about Andrew. I think he means well, but Andrew seems a little… eccentric.”
“Did you tell him that I wanted to talk to Andrew?”
“Yes. Duncan said they would discuss it, but I’m worried they’ll do something silly. Like take off for Thailand.”
“I’m glad you called me. I’ll do what I can to help them.”
“You’ll keep in touch with me?”
“Absolutely.”
I’d had the call on speakerphone.
“Wow,” Lula said.
I nodded. “Yeah. It looks like we’re going to Maine.”
“When are we leaving?”
“I don’t know. I have to think about this. It’s almost a nine-hour drive.”
“I have to go home to pack,” Lula said. “It won’t take me long. I just need some travel clothes, and of course there’s my daily beautification products.”
My needs weren’t so complicated. A couple T-shirts, some undies, and dog food.
“I don’t want to drive late at night,” I said. “Either we leave first thing in the morning or else we leave now.”
“I wouldn’t mind leaving now being that I’m not looking forward to another night with Grendel,” Lula said.
“I’ll have Connie book us two rooms in a dog-friendly hotel.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lula was waiting on the sidewalk when I drove up in the Explorer. She had a giant suitcase and a large tote. She hefted the suitcase into the back beside my small travel duffel bag and the twelve-pack of water, two dog bowls, and Bob-proof container of kibble that I’d packed. She brought the tote up front with her and set it on the floor between her legs. She turned and said hello to Bob, and she buckled herself in.
“This is going to be awesome,” Lula said. “We’re going on a road trip. I brought some snacks and a book of games that you can play in the car. And I left a note for Grendel telling him to go away and haunt someone else.”
“I stopped at the office and picked up a folder from Connie. It’s got some information in it about Duncan’s brother, our hotel reservation, and directions to Alberton. It’s a small town about an hour out of Bangor. I’ve already plugged the address into navigation.”
I handed the folder to Lula and headed for Route 29. An hour into the trip, my phone rang.
“Babe,” Ranger said, “you’re on the Saw Mill River Parkway heading north.”
“Duncan Dugan and Nutsy are at his brother’s house in Maine. I’m going after them.”
“Are you alone?”
“Nope. I’m with Lula and Bob.”
There was a long silence where I thought Ranger was trying hard not to laugh out loud.
“Stay in touch,” he finally said. And he disconnected.
By the time we crossed into Massachusetts, we’d gone through all the food, Bob and Lula had relieved themselves multiple times, we’d stopped to refuel, and now Lula and Bob were asleep and snoring, and I was doubting the wisdom of the trip. What the heck was I going to do with Dugan if I captured him? I’d have to strap him into the recliner and drive him back to New Jersey. And what about Nutsy? My deal with Plover didn’t involve capture. I just had to find Nutsy. This was a good thing because I didn’t want to put Nutsy in cuffs. Especially since I had no legal permission to capture him.
When Vinnie writes a bail bond for someone, they sign away a lot of their rights. One of the things that they legally agree to is the right for Vinnie’s representative (me) to capture them. When someone Vinnie has bonded out fails to show for their court appearance, they’re considered a felon and I can pursue them and restrain them and do whatever is necessary to return them to the court. Dugan fell under this category. Nutsy didn’t. Forcibly returning Nutsy to New Jersey would fall under kidnapping across state lines, and that was a very large no-no.
I was thinking through all this when Morelli called.
“How was your day?” he asked.
“Mixed,” I said. “I made a couple captures and now I’m in a car on my way to Maine with Lula and Bob. Duncan Dugan and Nutsy are supposed to be there.”
“Where are you now?”
“Somewhere in Massachusetts.”
“And when do you expect to be in Maine?”
“Hard to tell. It depends on how many stops everyone needs to make for food and potty.”
“Call me when you get to wherever it is that you’re going.”
“Yessir.”
“I miss you,” Morelli said. “Try to stay alive.”
“I’ll do my best.”
* * *
I was driving in the dark, taking directions from the navigation lady.
“Keep right at the fork to continue on I-295 North,” she said to me. “Follow this road for fifty-two miles.”
“Fifty-two miles,” Lula said. “Is this trip never going to end? My ass is asleep. I need a bacon cheeseburger with onion rings and slaw. I need coconut layer cake and ice cream. I need a drink. Vodka straight up. I need to get out of this car. Tell me we’re almost there.”
“We’re almost there,” I said. “We’re in Maine.”
The next time we heard the navigation lady’s voice, she told me to merge onto I-95 North.
“Continue on I-95 for eighty miles,” she said.
“Omigod,” Lula said. “Eighty miles. Do you know how far eighty miles is? It’s freaking far. It’s forever. Just shoot me. Get it over with. Make this misery end. I can’t feel my legs anymore. I’m numb from the waist down. I wasn’t meant to sit. I’m one of those women who’s gotta go. I’m a mover. Let me out of this car and I’ll walk the rest of the way. Oh crap. I can’t do that. My extremities are dead. I’m a cripple.”
“Look on the bright side,” I said. “When we get back to Trenton you can get a handicap sticker for your car.”
“I always wanted one of those,” Lula said. “You get good parking spaces. A handicap sticker is worth gold.”
“Merge now,” the navigation lady said.
“I hate this bitch,” Lula said. “She’s not telling me anything I want to hear. I want to hear we’re at our destination.”
I loved the navigation lady. She knew where we were going. This was a wonderful thing since I hadn’t a clue. She never sounded tired or annoyed. Her voice was pleasant and calm and confident. It was a small piece of sanity in my currently unpleasant circumstances.
* * *