Джанет Иванович - Fortune and Glory

“And he’s got you all spiffed up for her,” I said to Bob. “That’s so disgusting.”

I was being indignant in front of Bob, but the truth is my stomach was in a knot and I had an ache in my chest. Morelli and I split up and I knew there was no reason why he shouldn’t see other women. That didn’t make it any less painful. Especially when I’d just gotten all gooey over his smile.

I hooked Bob up to his leash and walked him up and down a bunch of streets. I brought him back to Morelli’s house, gave him some dog kibble and fresh water, and left. Good deed well done.

I drove home on autopilot, surprised when I ended up in my parking lot. I took the elevator to the second floor, the doors opened, and I saw George Potts, aka the Pooper, sitting on the floor in front of my apartment. I closed my eyes for a moment and wondered if life could get any worse. Of course, it could get worse, I told myself. You could get run over by a truck, or catch the plague, or get head lice.

Potts jumped up when he saw me in the hall. “Surprise,” he said. “Are you surprised? I saw your picture on social. The one with you jumping out of the window of the burning hotel. It went viral. You’re famous. Anyway, I got worried about you, so I thought I’d come be like, you know, a bodyguard.”

“I didn’t jump. I dropped,” I said. “And it’s nice that you were worried about me, but I’m really in no danger.”

“That’s not what social is saying.” He leaned forward and sniffed. “You smell smoky… like weed.”

I unlocked my door and stepped inside. “Thanks for stopping by,” I said. “Don’t forget you have a court date coming up.”

Potts opened his mouth to say something, and I closed and locked the door before he uttered a word.

I waited a minute and looked out my security peephole. He was still there, staring at my door as if it would open at any minute and he’d be invited in. Don’t encourage him, I told myself. Eventually he’ll go away.

I stripped, threw my smoky clothes in the laundry basket, and took a shower. I dried my hair, got dressed in new clothes, and went to my front door. I looked out the peephole and I didn’t see Potts. Hooray. I put my ear to the door and listened. Someone was humming. Dear God, Potts was still there, sitting with his back to the door, in my peephole blind spot.

I made myself a peanut butter and potato chip sandwich for dinner. Rex came out of his soup can den to get a potato chip and I told him not to worry about Potts.

“I’m almost positive he’s harmless,” I said to Rex.

I called Lula and made arrangements to pick her up at her house at seven thirty.

“That’s a good time,” Lula said. “Some of the ladies start work early to service the geriatric losers who need to be home in bed by nine o’clock.”

I checked my email and spent some time rereading the file I had on Charlie Shine, hoping I’d missed something that resembled a clue. At seven o’clock I stopped reading, grabbed my messenger bag and a sweatshirt, and went to the door. I made a fast promise to God that I’d go to church if I opened the door and Potts wasn’t there. I looked out my peephole and saw Potts. He was marching back and forth in front of my door.

“You can kiss that promise good-bye,” I said to God.

I opened my door and Potts stopped marching.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Now I go to work and you go home.”

“No way,” he said. “I’m sticking to you like glue. I’ve made up my mind. You saved my life by putting up my bond and now I have to save yours.”

“I didn’t save your life,” I said. “You would have managed.”

“No, no, no. I would have died. I had a premonition. Did I tell you I get premonitions? It’s a curse. They’re always terrible.”

“Do they come true?”

“I don’t know, they’re usually about people in Slovenia.”

“Do you have relatives there? Do you know anyone there?”

“No. That’s why it’s so odd. Sometimes my premonitions are local and then I just avoid the situation. Like once I had a premonition that I was going to get run over by a clown on a motorcycle, so I stayed home, and it didn’t happen.”

“Smart.”

“Yeah. So, where are we going? Are we going out after some real bad guy? Like a murderer?”

I locked my door and headed for the stairs. “Just doing some research.”

“I’m good at research. I’m like a Google pro.”

My plan was to take the stairs fast, sprint across the lot to my car, get in, and lock the doors before he could reach me. I was halfway down the stairs when he suddenly catapulted past me and rolled head over teakettles to the bottom.

He was flat out, on his back with his eyes open and unblinking.

“Holy crap,” I said. “Are you okay?”

“I think I’m okay,” he said. “I need a minute. Do you see any bones sticking out like they’re broken? Do you see any blood?”

“No.”

“I can wiggle my toes in my shoes, so I’m not paralyzed. And look, I can move my fingers.”

“Those are all good signs,” I said. “I have to go now. I’m meeting someone.”

“What about my head?” he asked. “Did I hit my head?”

“Yeah, lots of times. All the way down.”

“I could have a concussion.”

He stood and swayed back and forth. “Am I swaying?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s good because I’m trying to sway.”

I looked around. “Do you have a car here?”

“No. I had my friend Morgan drop me off. I thought I’d be going in your car, being that I’m protecting you.”

“Wrong.”

“Here, look at this. I’m walking. And I’m talking. I was afraid I might black out. I did that once at the dentist office. And while I was out, I peed my pants.”

“You aren’t going to do that now, are you?”

“I don’t think so, but I might be a little dizzy. I’ll feel better when I get to your car and I can sit down.”

I was doomed. I was never going to be rid of him. This is what happens when you try to be nice. You find out your ex-boyfriend has a new girlfriend and you get stuck with George Potts.

“Get into the backseat,” I said. “I’ll drive you home.”

“You can’t do that. I’m supposed to be with you. I took an oath.”

I looked at him in my rearview mirror. “An oath?”

“Yes. An oath to protect you. It was a blood oath, too. I stuck my finger with a pin and swore to protect you.” He shivered. “Bad things happen to you if you break an oath.”

“I really don’t need protecting,” I said.

“Of course, you need protecting. Social media says you’re a hot mess. Who are you meeting? I know it isn’t a date because you said you were going to work. It might be awkward to bring me along on a date, but I could be useful on a work assignment. I have excellent powers of observation. And besides, I won’t get out of your car if you take me home. I’ll kick and scream until I have an asthma attack. Did I mention I sometimes have asthma attacks?”

No surprise there. Why leave out asthma from his many ailments.

“Okay. Fine. Have it your way. I’ll take you with me, but you have to not move from the backseat , and no talking .”

“No problem. My lips are sealed. Look what I’m doing. I’m zipping my lips. Zip! Did you see that? Did you see me zip my lips?”

I told myself to relax my grip on the wheel and stay calm. Lula and I would cruise Stark Street, talk to a couple of women about Shine, and go home. Easy peasy.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Lula was waiting on the sidewalk in front of her house.

“What’s going on?” she asked, getting in and buckling up. “Is that the pooper in the backseat?”