Part 11 (1/2)

”I'm the Mooner, dude. You've seen me at Dougie's house.” Mooner held up two fingers pressed tight together. ”Dougie and me are like this. We're a team.”

”I knew I recognized you!” DeChooch said. ”I hate you and your rotten, thieving partner. I should have guessed Kruper wouldn't be in this alone.”

”Dude,” Mooner said.

DeChooch leveled the gun at Mooner. ”Think you're smart, don't you? Think you can take advantage of an old man. Holding out for more money . . . is that your angle?”

Mooner rapped on his head with his knuckles. ”No gra.s.s growing here.”

”I want it, now,” DeChooch said.

”Happy to do business with you,” Mooner said. ”What are we talking about here? Toasters or Super Suits?”

”a.s.shole,” DeChooch said. And he squeezed off a shot that was aimed at Mooner's knee but missed by about six inches and zinged into the floor.

”Cripes,” Carolli said, hands over his ears, ”you're gonna make me go deaf. Put the piece away.”

”I'll put it away after I make him talk,” DeChooch said. ”He's got something that belongs to me.” DeChooch leveled the gun again, and Mooner took off up the aisle, at a dead run.

In my mind I was heroic, knocking the gun out of DeChooch's hand. In real time I was paralyzed. Wave a gun under my nose and everything in my body turns to liquid.

DeChooch got off another one that sailed by Mooner and took out a chunk of the baptismal font.

Carolli smacked DeChooch in the back of the head with the flat of his hand. ”Knock it off!”

DeChooch stumbled forward and the gun discharged and shot a hole in a four-foot crucifixion painting hanging on the far wall.

Our mouths dropped open. And we all made the sign of the cross.

”Holy c.r.a.p,” Carolli said. ”You shot Jesus. That's gonna take a lot of Hail Marys.”

”It was an accident,” DeChooch said. He squinted at the painting. ”Where did I get him?”

”In the knee.”

”That's a relief,” DeChooch said. ”At least it wasn't no place fatal.”

”So about your court appearance,” I said. ”I'd take it as a personal favor if you'd go down to the station with me and reschedule.”

”Boy, you're a real pain in the a.s.s,” DeChooch said. ”How many times do I have to tell you . . . forget about it. I'm depressed. I'm not gonna go sit in jail when I'm feeling depressed. You ever been in jail?”

”Not exactly.”

”Well, take my word for it, it's no place to be when you're depressed. And anyway, there's something I've got to do.”

I was sorting through my bag. I had pepper spray in there somewhere. And probably my stun gun.

”Besides, there's people looking for me, and they're a lot tougher than you,” DeChooch said. ”And locking me up in jail would make it real easy for them to find me.”

”I'm tough!”

”Lady, you're amateur hour,” DeChooch said.

I pulled out a can of hair spray, but I couldn't find the pepper spray. I needed better organization. Probably I should put the pepper spray and stun gun in the zipper compartment, but then I'd have to find another place for my gum and mints.

”I'm going now,” DeChooch said. ”And I don't want you to follow me or I'll have to shoot you.”

”Just one question. What did you want from Mooner?”

”That's private between him and me.”

DeChooch left through a side door, and Carolli and I stared after him.

”You just let a murderer get away,” I said to Carolli. ”You were sitting here drinking with a murderer!”

”Nah. Choochy's no murderer. We go way back. He's got a real good heart.”

”He tried to shoot Mooner.”

”He got excited. Ever since that stroke he's been excitable like that.”

”He had a stroke?”

”Just a small one. Hardly counted at all. I've I've had worse strokes.” had worse strokes.”

Oh boy.

I caught up with Mooner half a block from his house. He was scooting along, running and walking, looking over his shoulder, doing the Mooner version of a rabbit fleeing the hounds. By the time I parked, Mooner was already through the door, had located a roach, and was lighting up.

”People are shooting at you,” I said. ”You shouldn't be smoking dope. Dope makes you stupid, and you need to be smart.”

”Dude,” Mooner said on an exhale.

Yeesh.

I dragged Mooner out of his house and down to Dougie's house. We had a new development here. DeChooch was after something and he thought Dougie had it. And now he thinks Mooner's got it.

”What was DeChooch talking about?” I asked Mooner. ”What's he after?”

”I don't know, man, but it's not a toaster.”

We were standing in Dougie's living room. Dougie isn't the world's best housekeeper, but the room seemed unusually disrupted. Cus.h.i.+ons were askew on the couch, and the coat closet door was open. I stuck my head into the kitchen and found a similar scene. The cabinet doors and counter drawers were open. The door to the cellar was open, and the door to the small pantry was open. I didn't remember things as looking like this last night.

I dumped my bag onto the small kitchen table and pawed through the contents, picking out the pepper spray and stun gun.

”Someone's been in here,” I said to Mooner.