I sat straight up, heard the phone ring again, and snatched the receiver off the cradle. Bart’s frantic voice came on the line. “Stella! The cops are at Lenny’s. I don’t know what’s going on, but his neighbor called me, and I know you know some of the cops, so I thought—.” I shook the receiver, as if doing so would calm Bart. Realizing the futility—and stupidity—of that, I said, “I’m coming,” and hung up. I eased out of my bed, gingerly pulled on some clothes, and headed out to my truck. *** The groan I heard sounded human, so I figured Davey Crockett was at least alive, if not awake. Halfway to Lenny’s I’d had the brainstorm that he might need a lawyer, so I screeched into a Wawa, found the phone book, and got Crockett’s home number. “It’s Stella,” I said. “Who?” “Come on, man, I saved your life the other day, remember?” “Oh, yeah.” I heard him shifting around, probably sitting up.
