I got up, went to the window, and looked out. There was a shiny black Ford Explorer parked two houses away on the opposite side of the street. Not Ranger. Ranger never drove the Explorer. Not Tank. Tank was sitting somewhere in the Bat Cave with his leg elevated. Probably Cal. Hard to tell at this distance.

I took a shower, dressed in a tank top, jeans, and sneakers and wrinkled my nose at my hair. I had a tube of hair gunk that was a combination of wallpaper paste and mustache wax. I pulled a big glob of it through my hair with my fingers and my curls stood up at attention. I was a couple inches taller with the gunk in my hair and I wasn’t a real good judge, but I suspected I was no longer cute.

A half hour later, I rolled into the office.

“Whoa,” Connie said at my hair. “What happened to you?”

“I got a haircut.”

“I hope you didn’t give him a tip.”

“Am I cute?”

“That’s not the first word that comes to mind.”

Vinnie stuck his head out and grimaced at me. “Holy shit. What’d you do, tag yourself with the stun gun? I wouldn’t show that hairdo to your mother if I was you.” And he went back into his office.

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” I said to Connie.

“You look like you soaked your head in liquid starch and then stood in a wind tunnel.”

Vinnie jumped out of his office. “I got it! I know who it is that you look like . . . Don King!” And Vinnie jumped back inside and slammed and locked his door.

I felt my hair. It was pretty stiff. Maybe I overdid the hair gunk.

“Omigod,” Connie said, looking out the big front window. “It’s Lula!”

Sure enough, the red Firebird was parked at the curb and Lula was at the door with Boo under her arm.

“What did I miss?” Lula wanted to know, coming over to the desk. “What’s going on? Did I miss anything?”

I didn’t know where to begin. There’d been death, birth, sex, and hair loss.

Lula shifted Boo on her hip. “Are you still looking for that carnation guy?”

“Yep,” I said. “Haven’t found him yet. I tried calling you, but your phone wasn’t working.”

“I stopped to take a break, got out of the car, the phone fell on the ground, and the dog peed on it.”

“You made good time,” Connie said.

“That is one motherfucker long trip,” Lula said. “I was in the car for eight hours and my ass was asleep when I hit Little Rock and I said, ‘Stick a fork in me, ’cause I’m done.’ So I handed the rental car in and I hooked up with a couple truckers who drove day and night. And here I am. They dropped me off late last night.”

Connie took a closer look at Lula. “Did you lose weight?”