Ally came out of the house just ahead of Jorge, Carl and The Kevster.

Or, I should say, Ally sashayed out of the house with a knowing smile on her face and Carl followed staring at her ass, a knowing smile on his face too.

Another cop car angled in and Channel 7 News jockeyed for a parking spot. Jorge tossed Hank his cuffs as he passed us, escorting Kevin to the squad car.

“Come visit me, Rock Chicks,” Kevin shouted, luckily not holding any grudges. “Bring brownies!”

“You take him brownies and I’ll kill you,” Hank said.

I ignored his threat. “Do you have to stay here?”

“No, I briefed Jorge. They have it covered. We’ll go into the station later to give our statements.”

“Good, we have to go get Tex from the hospital. They released him ten minutes ago and he needs a ride.”

Hank was shaking his head again.

“We’re not goin’ to Tex’s house. There’s strong physical evidence that suggests he has tear gas and grenades. I don’t even want to think about what we’ll find in his house. I’ll have to call the ATF and those guys are nuts.”

“Then don’t come in,” I suggested.

“Indy –”

I pulled out my trump card.

“He took a bullet for me.”

That did it.

“Lee owes me big time for this,” Hank muttered as he walked to his SUV.

My cell rang as we pulled away from the curb.

The display said, “Lee calling.”

“Hey, I was just gonna call you,” I said.

“The office phoned, you’re all over the police-band.”

Oopsie.

“I kind of led Hank to a house full of pot plants and he went all cop on me.”

Silence.

“Lee?”

“Why aren’t you at the condo?”

“Duke called, he opened the store. There was a Mini-We-Want-Rosie Riot. We settled that and then The Kevster called and told us someone was at his house, scaring him. I thought it was my kidnapper, Pepper Rick and it was. That’s why I was gonna call you because he was at Kevin’s early this morning banging on the door. I thought you’d want to know.”

Silence again.

“Lee?”

“Where’s Hank?”

“He’s driving, we’re on our way to get Tex and take him home. The hospital released him.”

“Let me talk to him.”

I looked at Hank. Hank looked unhappy.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“I think he’s kinda mad at you.”

“Let me get this straight, he’s supposed to be lookin’ after you and he takes you to a house where your kidnapper was, just hours ago, and he’s mad at me?”

Yikes.

“I guess the feeling’s mutual.”

More silence.

“I kinda talked him into it.”

“Yeah, I suspect you’re good at that.”

“If it makes you feel better, he’s already threatened to kill me.”

I heard the sigh before, “Be safe, for Christ’s sake.”

Then he hung up.

When Hank swung in the SUV, Tex was at the Emergency Room entrance, sitting in a wheelchair, his arm in a tight sling, a stocky guy in scrubs and clogs standing behind him.

Tex pushed himself out of the chair as we walked up to him and he shot a filthy look at the guy in scrubs.

“Fuckin’ wheelchairs. Fuckin’ orderlies,” Tex groused.

“I’m not an orderly, I’m a nursing assistant,” Clog Guy said and from the look of him, there was no way I’d disagree. He could be anything he wanted.

“Whatever,” Tex muttered and his eyes settled on me. “What’d I miss?”

I ran it down for him with a little more detail than what I did for Lee, the riot, Kumar’s prehistoric mother-in-law, the Kevster call, kidnapper sighting, pot plants, police and two news vans.

“Fuckin’ A, darlin’,” he said to me.

“Fuckin’ A,” I replied, “now what?”

Tex lumbered to the SUV. “Now, we feed the cats.”

Chapter Thirteen

Pandemonium at the Gay Bar

We went to Tex’s house, he changed clothes and we fed his gazillion cats and cleaned out five litter trays. It wasn’t the most pleasant job I’d ever done in my life but the kitties were appreciative. Tex made us stay long enough to give them cuddles, dangle feathers and jiggle laser lights because, according to Tex, it was important to keep their minds and bodies active.

Luckily, there were no stockpiles of firearms and explosives on display.

When we started to leave, Tex followed.

Hank stopped and turned.

“Where are you goin’?” he asked Tex.

“With you,” Tex answered.

“I don’t think so,” Hank replied.

“You think you can protect Little Miss Calamity here all by yourself?” Tex scoffed, jerking a thumb at me.

Er, excuse me? Little Miss Calamity?

“You have your arm in a sling,” Hank returned.

“Listen man, I been on this block for twenty years without leavin’ except to go to the f**kin’ dentist when I had a toothache in 1998. I got off it last night and for the first time in years, I feel free.”

Hank considered this.

Hank was a tough guy but he’d always been somewhat of a soft touch. The only fights he ever got into where when people were teasing the unpopular kids at school or saying shit about girls that he knew wasn’t true (these girls were usually Ally and me). When he was a kid, he used to bring home the lame dogs and damaged birds. I always thought that Hank got into the cop business far less to serve than to protect.

“Lee owes me big time for this,” he repeated, giving in.

We walked down to Kumar’s and stocked up on junk food and got the makings for a late lunch. Then we went to the station and gave our statements about the happenings on to The Kevster’s pot farm. Then we went to my house.

Stevie and Tod were in the front yard mowing, weeding and pruning. Kitty Sue was taking in the sun on my front porch in my old, weathered butterfly chair that once had a bright-turquoise canvass seat that was now a bluish-gray. Marianne Meyer was sitting on my front step playing with a baby and Andrea was chasing after a toddler who was streaking across my side of the lawn while two more of her kids were rolling around in the grass looking like they were trying to kill each other.