It was a good thing Anamaria told me where the crowbar was, or I would have
had a hell of a time getting the first crate open. Ana was probably the
best partner I ever had since becoming a bounty hunter. She knew how to do
all the things that Lula, Mary Lou Molnar and Albert Kloughn didn't know
how to do. Like fighting. And distracting Sparrow.
I was pretty sure Lula could have stopped Sparrow in his tracks. After all, Lula was a former ho and she knew how to distract men. Besides, Lula was a plus-size woman who liked to squeeze herself into petite size Spandex in colors like bright yellow or pink, with the makeup to match. And if her appearance or gift for conversation didn't stop Sparrow, she could have knocked him down, assuming she wasn't wearing a really good pair of shoes that day.
Mary Lou, my best friend since high school, wasn't exactly cut out for undercover work. We tried spying on Morelli once, to see if we could catch him in the act of fooling around with Terry Gilman. Morelli was on to us in under a minute.
As for Kloughn...well, he wasn't good at anything.
As I finally managed to get the top off of the first crate, it occurred to me that I was missing the people in my life. Bad. It had been three days and there was no Grandma Mazur to accidentally set the dinner table on fire. I wanted to go home. But then I was going to miss Sparrow, who, despite everything, had kind of grown on me.
Pushing these thoughts aside, I peered into the crate. I saw cloth bags that I assumed were full of coffee. It took some work to pull one out of the crate and then I was surprised to realize that these were coffee beans. Years of Starbucks and Maxwell House had me convinced that coffee didn't come in any other forms except ground or in a cup, waiting for milk.
I opened the sack and peered in. Nothing peered back. With a resigned sigh, I stuck my hand in the bag and fished around. I didn't feel anything remotely resembling a gun and there were no plastic-wrapped bricks of cocaine. Not that I expected plastic-wrapped bricks of cocaine, since I didn't think either plastic-wrap or cocaine had been invented yet. I pulled out a handful of beans.
There, mixed among what I figured was some kind of French roast, were shiny, black rocks. I plucked one out and dumped the beans back into the bag. I had no idea what I was holding in my hand, but it was valuable enough to kill for. It was time to take my discovery to Sparrow.
"Excuse me, miss?"
I looked up to see the young cabin boy staring at me. Except he didn't look so young anymore and he was holding a wicked looking knife.
I was pretty sure Lula could have stopped Sparrow in his tracks. After all, Lula was a former ho and she knew how to distract men. Besides, Lula was a plus-size woman who liked to squeeze herself into petite size Spandex in colors like bright yellow or pink, with the makeup to match. And if her appearance or gift for conversation didn't stop Sparrow, she could have knocked him down, assuming she wasn't wearing a really good pair of shoes that day.
Mary Lou, my best friend since high school, wasn't exactly cut out for undercover work. We tried spying on Morelli once, to see if we could catch him in the act of fooling around with Terry Gilman. Morelli was on to us in under a minute.
As for Kloughn...well, he wasn't good at anything.
As I finally managed to get the top off of the first crate, it occurred to me that I was missing the people in my life. Bad. It had been three days and there was no Grandma Mazur to accidentally set the dinner table on fire. I wanted to go home. But then I was going to miss Sparrow, who, despite everything, had kind of grown on me.
Pushing these thoughts aside, I peered into the crate. I saw cloth bags that I assumed were full of coffee. It took some work to pull one out of the crate and then I was surprised to realize that these were coffee beans. Years of Starbucks and Maxwell House had me convinced that coffee didn't come in any other forms except ground or in a cup, waiting for milk.
I opened the sack and peered in. Nothing peered back. With a resigned sigh, I stuck my hand in the bag and fished around. I didn't feel anything remotely resembling a gun and there were no plastic-wrapped bricks of cocaine. Not that I expected plastic-wrapped bricks of cocaine, since I didn't think either plastic-wrap or cocaine had been invented yet. I pulled out a handful of beans.
There, mixed among what I figured was some kind of French roast, were shiny, black rocks. I plucked one out and dumped the beans back into the bag. I had no idea what I was holding in my hand, but it was valuable enough to kill for. It was time to take my discovery to Sparrow.
"Excuse me, miss?"
I looked up to see the young cabin boy staring at me. Except he didn't look so young anymore and he was holding a wicked looking knife.