Page 73 of Going Rogue

“What’s wrong with that?” Bella asked.

“It’s illegal,” I said.

“This country have too many rules,” Bella said.

“Remember when Salvatore Perroni’s Cadillac got bombed and Sal lost four fingers on his hand? That’s why bombs are illegal,” I said.

“I didn’t like that,” Bella said. “That was bad bomb. Sal couldn’t hold cards to play poker. Only had a thumb.”

Curly Tree Gardens was a large complex of three-story cinder-block and stucco buildings that looked like they were built by the Russian army. Number 126 was a garden-level apartment without the benefit of a garden.

It had two parking spaces allotted to it. One space was occupied by a Hyundai. I took the remaining space.

“You stay here,” I said to Bella.

“Take the key and crack the window for her,” Lula said.

“Hunh,” Bella said. “Fat head.”

Lula and I walked to the door, and I rang the bell. In my peripheral vision I caught a dark shadow scuttling toward us. Bella.

The door opened and a guy who looked like a twenty-six-year-old, chubby Harry Potter peered out at us.

“Zane Walburg?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “What’s up?”

“I represent Vincent Plum. You missed your court date this morning.”

“No biggie,” he said. “I’ll go some other time.”

“Absolutely,” I said. “I came to take you downtown to reschedule.”

“Okay, but not now. I got a rush order last night.” He looked past me at Lula and Bella. “Did they miss a court date, too?”

“No,” I said. “They’re with me. It’s a long story. You don’t want to hear it.”

“Do you build bombs?” Bella asked him.

“Yep,” he said. “Bombs R Me. That’s my website.”

“I want to see one,” Bella said.

“Do you want to buy one?”

“Maybe,” Bella said.

“I don’t have a lot of inventory,” he said. “Mostly I build on demand, but I have a classic pressure cooker bomb that was never picked up. I could give you a good price on it.”

“We aren’t buying bombs today,” I said to him. “And I know you’re busy but you’re going to have to take a half hour out to go to the courthouse with me to reschedule.”

“No,” he said. “Not now. I have work to do.”

“You became a felon when you missed your court date,” I said, taking cuffs out of my back pocket. “I’m going to have to insist that you come with me.”

“I’ll cut a deal with you,” he said. “I’ll give you the pressure cooker bomb in exchange for you going away and never coming back.”

“I don’t need a pressure cooker bomb.”