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Lean Mean Thirteen, Page 20

Janet Evanovich


  “Who s with me today?” I asked him.

  “Hang on. I have to talk to control.” A couple minutes later, he returned. “It's Binkie. He's new. And he's riding solo. I'm short today. Don't give him a hard time. And if you go back to your apartment, don't get undressed in your foyer or living room. I've installed monitored security cameras.”

  “Roger and out.”

  Truth is, I didn't want to give Binkie a hard time. I was grateful to have someone watching my back. I circled my parents' block before parking. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, so I pulled into the driveway behind my dad's Buick.

  Grandma was watching morning television when I walked in. “Look at you,” she said. “You look like Ranger. And look at the shirt with RangeMan written on it. Ain't that a pip.”

  “I have to take someone downtown to get rebonded, and he needs someone to house sit. He's expecting the cable company.”

  “Those fuckers,” Grandma said. “Excuse the language. Just let me get my purse.”

  I went to the kitchen to tell my mom.

  “It'll be good for her to get out and do something,” my mother said. “She's been feeling down because Elmer got shipped off to an assisted-living complex in Lakewood.”

  Grandma was wearing her favorite lavender-and-white running suit. Her hair had faded to orange, and she had her big black patent leather purse in the crook of her arm. I wasn't going to ask what she had in the purse.

  “I'm all ready,” she said, getting her coat out of the hall closet. “Where are we going?”

  “North Trenton. Hopefully this won't take long.”

  Binkie stuck close to me all the way to Coglin's. When I parked in front of Coglins house, Binkie parked half a block away. I got out and waved to him, and he waved back.

  Grandma followed me up the sidewalk and waited while I rang the doorbell.

  Coglin stuck his head out. “I'm still waiting,” he said.

  “I brought you a house sitter,” I told him. “This is my Grandma Mazur. She's going to stay here while you go with me to get bonded out again. She'll wait for the cable company.”

  “I guess that would be okay,” Coglin said. He looked Grandma over. “Are you up to the cable company?”

  “Bring 'em on,” Grandma said.

  “Don't let them leave without fixing my cable.”

  Grandma patted her purse. “Don't worry about it.” She stepped inside and looked around. “What the heck's going on here?”

  “Carl is a taxidermist,” I told Grandma.

  “The best in the city,” Coglin said. “I'm an artiste.”

  “I never seen anything like this,” Grandma said. “You should go on the shopping channel. I bet you could clean up.”

  “I've thought of that,” Coglin said. “I even wrote a letter to Suzanne Somers once. I think my performance pieces would be especially popular.”

  “Everything's real lifelike. You expect them to just start walking around.”

  “Sometimes when pets die, people bring them here to get restored, so they can take them home and put them on display,” Coglin said.

  Grandma was standing wide-eyed in front of a dog with big glass eyes and a tooth missing. “Isn't that something. That's a pip of an idea. I'm surprised they haven't thought to do that with people.” Grandma looked to me. “I could have brought your grandfather home and set him in his favorite chair.” She slid her dentures around and gave it more thought. “Would have been hard when I moved into your mother's house. It's already jammed full of furniture. I would have had to get rid of Harry.”

  “Sometimes my pieces get sold on eBay,” Coglin said.

  “I love eBay,” Grandma said. “Harry probably wouldn't have fetched much, but the chair was worth something.”

  I put a call in to Connie and told her I was leaving for the courthouse with Coglin in tow.

  “Just be careful not to touch any of the performance pieces,” Coglin told Grandma.

  “Don't worry about me. I won't break anything,” Grandma said.

  “And don't shoot anyone,” I said to Grandma. “Especially the cable people.”

  “Those fuckers,” Grandma said.

  “That wasn't so bad,” Coglin said when we turned onto his street. “I didn't have to wait in jail or anything.” He was sitting forward, straining against his seatbelt. “I don't see a cable truck.” “It s still early,” I told him.

  I parked in front of his house and Binkie parked behind me. Coglin got out and checked the cable stretching across his street for breaks. It looked intact, so we went to the house to spring Grandma.

  Grandma had the door open before we reached the porch. “Good thing I was here,” she said. “The cable man showed up almost as soon as you left. He ran a new cable under the road, and I stood out there and watched him to make sure he wasn't fibbing about the new cable. And then I wouldn't let him leave until he came in and tried the television. And it looks to me like everything's good now. And he's sending someone to remove the old cable that's running across the road. Probably won't happen for another six months, but it don't really matter.”

  “Oh gosh,” Coglin said. “I can't believe it. The nightmare is over. I can leave the house during the day. I can fill e-mail orders and pay my online accounts.” He swiped at a tear. “I feel real stupid getting all emotional like this, but it's been terrible. Just terrible.”

  “That's okay,” Grandma said. “We all get like that over the cable company.”

  “I can't thank you enough. This was so nice of you to stay here.”

  “I've been having a good time looking at all the animals,” Grandma said. “It's like being in a museum or something. My favorite is this big groundhog because he has three eyes. Imagine that, a groundhog with three eyes.”

  Grandma reached out and touched an eye and bang!

  Grandma was head-to-toe groundhog. There was groundhog hair stuck everywhere.

  “Son of a bee's wax,” Grandma said.

  “That's okay,” Coglin said. “I've got a bunch of groundhogs.”

  I led Grandma down the sidewalk to the car and got her strapped in.

  “He must have overstuffed it,” Grandma said.

  “It happens all the time,” I said to Grandma. “Don't worry about it. I'm going to take you home, and we'll get you cleaned up and you'll be good as new.”

  I called my mother from the road to warn her.

  “Grandma had a little accident,” I said to my mother, “but she's fine. She's just got some groundhog stuck to her. I think if you scrub her down with Goo Gone, she'll be okay. And maybe you could call Dolly and see if she's got an opening at the hair salon for a wash and set… maybe a cut.”

  There was a silent pause and I could imagine my mother making the sign of the cross and looking over at the liquor cabinet. I disconnected and turned into the Burg.

  “I hear Elmer got shipped off to Lakewood,” I said to Grandma.

  “Yeah, he was a dud anyway. I'm thinking about taking up bowling. Lucy Grabek joined one of them leagues, and she got a pink bowling ball with her name on it. I wouldn't mind having one of those.”

  I parked in front of my parents' house and my mother came out to collect Grandma.

  “Is this really groundhog?” my mother asked.

  “The little brown hairs and patches of hide are groundhog. I don't know about the white stuff. I think it's some kind of synthetic foam,” I said.

  Binkie and I waved good-bye to Grandma and my mom, and then we drove to the bonds office.

  Connie had reached the office ahead of me and was writing out my capture check. “Good work,” she said. “That was clever of you to have Grandma babysit. How'd she do?”

  “She got woodchucked.”

  “I bet it was the third eye that got her,” Lula said. “You can't hardly resist the third eye.”

  “How'd last night go?” I asked Lula. “Did the movies work?”

  'We never got to the movies. Turns out he don't need no mood enhan
cement. I'm telling you, I think I'm in love. I might even learn to cook for him."

  Connie and I did raised eyebrows.

  “Okay,” Lula said. “Learning to cook probably isn't gonna happen, but I could learn something.”

  My phone buzzed and I picked up to Morelli.

  “He's gone,” Morelli said.

  “Who?”

  “Dickie.”

  “Where'd he go?”

  “I don't know. I was working upstairs, and when I came down, he was gone. Television on. Back door unlocked.”

  “Is anything missing?”

  “Not that I can tell. My car is still here. His clothes are all here. No signs of struggle. No blood on the floor.”

  “Maybe he went for a walk.”

  “He's not supposed to go for a walk. He's not supposed to leave the house. That was the deal. I've been out driving around, and I don't see him.”

  “Do you think someone took him?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Maybe he went to find Joyce for a nooner.”

  “Joyce. That's a good idea. Is she still following you?”

  I looked out the big plate-glass window in the front of the office. “Yeah. She's sitting across the street. Do you want me to talk to her?”

  “Yes, but you can't let her know anything about Dickie.”

  “What was that about?” Lula wanted to know.

  “Morelli thought Bob was missing, but he found him. I'll be right back. I want to say hello to Joyce.”

  I crossed the street, the Mercedes's driver's side window slid down, and Joyce looked out at me.

  “Hey,” I said. “How's it going?”

  “It's not. Why don't you get off your ass and do something? You think I have nothing better to do than follow you around?”

  Smullen's girlfriend was in the seat next to Joyce.

  “I never caught your name,” I said to her.

  “Rita.”

  “Going tag team?” I asked Joyce.

  “If I keep her next to me, I don't have to worry about her sneaking up and stabbing me in the back.”

  “Fuck you,” Rita said to Joyce.

  “All right then,” I said. “Guess I'll be moving along.”

  Joyce glanced at the black SUV parked behind Rangers Cayenne. “Do you have a permit for a parade?”

  “That's Binkie. He's practicing surveillance techniques.”

  I went back to the office and dialed Morelli. “Nothing there,” I said.

  “I can't believe this happened. I lost my witness. I'll probably get busted back to uniform patrol.”

  “He was a witness, not a prisoner. It's not like you could chain him to the toilet.”

  “I don't suppose you'd want to come over and cheer me up,” Morelli said.

  “You lost a witness and that's the first activity that comes to mind?”

  “That's always the first activity that comes to mind.”

  “Sorry, but here's the second bad news of the day. It's that time.”

  “So?”

  “Yeesh.”

  “Okay, let's table my love life for a couple hours. I need to find either Dickie or Petiak,” Morelli said.

  “Petiak is easy. We just set me out on the curb and wait for him to kidnap me.”

  “I'm not excited about that plan.”

  “Just for giggles, let's suppose Dickie didn't get snatched. Let's suppose he went after the money.”

  “What money?” Morelli asked.

  “The forty million dollars.”

  “I don't know anything about forty million dollars.”

  “The forty million Dickie withdrew from the firm's Smith Barney account. The forty million everyone wants, including Joyce and Rita, Smullen's girlfriend. Didn't Dickie tell you about the forty million?”

  “That little prick better hope I don't find him because I'm going to kill him.”

  “You're going to have to take a ticket on that one.”

  “How do you know about this?”

  “Joyce left her front door open one day and I happened to wander in and sit down at her kitchen desk and the drawer sort of opened and I found a bunch of numbers-”

  “Stop. I don't want to know,” Morelli said.

  “I just got a capture check. Suppose I treat to lunch.”

  “That would be great, but I'm afraid to leave the house in case our boy returns.”

  “You're in luck. I deliver.”

  I left the bonds office and was about to plug the key into the Porsche's ignition when Ranger called.

  “I'm looking at a monitor, and I'm not believing what I'm seeing,” Ranger said. “Dickie Orr just broke into your apartment. Isn't he supposed to be holding hands with Morelli?”

  “Morelli just called and said Dickie disappeared.”

  “Looks like we found him. Tank's on his way. Stay away from the area until I give you an all clear.”

  Yeah, right. Douche bag Dickie just broke into my apartment, and I'm going to stay clear. Not. I put the car in gear and wheeled around into the Burg. First thing, I had

  to lose Joyce. I cut through the alley behind Angie Kroegers house, hung a fast right, ripped through the parking lot for the Colonial Bar and Grille, and came out on Broad. I drove Broad for two blocks, hit Hamilton, and zipped past the bonds office. Joyce was nowhere in sight. Neither was Binkie. I was pretty sure Binkie had his Bluetooth working, calling the control room to see where the devil I was. The control room would be tuned to the GPS transmitter in the Cayenne and my purse, but I'd be in my lot by the time Binkie caught up with me.

  I came up on my building and saw the black RangeMan SUV parked close to the back door. Tank was inside, doing his thing, so I hung back by the Dumpster, sitting at idle, trying to keep as low a profile as possible. Not easy in a Porsche Cayenne.

  After a few minutes, the door to the building opened and Tank and Dickie emerged. A shot was fired and Tank went down. A black BMW whipped out of a parking space and slid to a stop in front of Dickie. Two men in the car. Dave was one. And his partner was driving. Dave jumped out of the car, grabbed Dickie, and shoved him into the backseat. Dave had two black eyes, a Band-Aid across his nose, and a huge bandage on his pinkie finger. He turned and drew his gun on Tank and fired.

  I mashed my foot down hard on the gas and put my hand to the horn. Dave looked up in surprise but didn't move fast enough. Possibly the result of having had his nuts stapled. I bounced him off my left fender and took the side door off the BMW. I stopped and put the Cayenne into reverse. I wasn't entirely rational at that point, but I'm pretty sure my intent was to run over Dave a second time and finish the job. Fortunately for Dave, he was able to drag his ass into the Beemer before I got to him. The Beemer took off, laying rubber on the asphalt, squealing out of the lot as it passed Binkie on the way in.

  Binkie and I ran to Tank. He was hit in the chest and leg. He was conscious and swearing and bleeding a lot, so we didn't wait for help. We loaded Tank into the back of the Explorer and took off for St. Frances Hospital. I was driving and Binkie was in back, applying pressure, trying to slow the bleeding. I called so emergency would be waiting for us. Then I called RangeMan and Morelli.

  We off-loaded Tank at emergency, and he was whisked away. We were still in the drop zone when Ranger arrived in his turbo, followed by a RangeMan SUV. Morelli was behind the SUV with his Kojak roof light flashing.

  We all got out and stood in a clump, five guys and me. If adrenaline was electricity, we were turning out enough to light up Manhattan.

  “How bad is it?” Ranger asked.

  “He should be okay,” Binkie said. “He was hit in the thigh and right side of the chest. Didn't sound like he had a lung problem. Maybe cracked a rib.”

  “Dave shot him once from a distance and then again at pretty close range,” I told Ranger. “Fortunately, his aim wasn't great with the big bandage wrapped around his pinkie finger.”

  Ranger went inside to complete the paperwork. When he was done, he joined
Morelli and me in the ER waiting room. Binkie waited outside.

  “I don't think Dickie was with Dave,” I said. “Dickie seemed surprised to see Dave. I think Dave and his partner were waiting for me, and they hit the jackpot.”