Fearless Fourteen: A Stephanie Plum Novel

by Janet Evanovich

“Thanks for the ride,” Grandma said. She looked in the car at Carl. “My regards to your mother.”

  Carl smiled and nodded.

  “Thanks,” I said to Carl and Big Dog. “I really appreciate this.”

  “We would have hauled her in, but it was too embarrassing,” Big Dog said. “She was the only one we could catch.”

  Morelli waved them off, and I buckled Grandma into the SUV.

  “Where’s your shovel?” I asked her.

  “I didn’t have one. I was just supervising. I went to Elmer Rhiner’s viewing and Marion Barker was there with Bitty Kuleza. And Marion said she heard Rose was always saying how she was gonna take her fortune to the grave. And one thing led to another, and it ended up that we thought it would be a good idea to dig Rose up and take a look. So Bitty gave me a ride, and we met Marion and her two grandsons at the cemetery. Her grandsons are real big guys, and they were doing the digging.”

  “That’s crazy!”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what it is about that money, but it’s just got ahold of me. It’s a beaut of a mystery.”

  Morelli drove the short distance and parked in front of my parents’ house. We watched Grandma sneak in, and we waited a couple minutes to make sure she didn’t sneak back out.

  “You should snap me up,” Morelli said. “Not many men would marry you after meeting your grandmother. You’re lucky to have me.”

  I looked over at him. “Is that a proposal?”

  There was total silence for a couple beats. “I’m not sure. It just popped out.”

  “Let me know when you’re sure.”

  “Would you say yes?” Morelli asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I bet I could convince you it would be a good thing,” Morelli said. “How about taking a look at my assets?”

  Oh good grief.

  It took us about twenty minutes in the alley behind the bonds office to appreciate his assets. When we finally returned to his house, all the lights were blazing and two squad cars were angle-parked at his curb. Morelli slid to a stop, and we hit the sidewalk at a run.

  “What’s going on?” he said to the cop at the door.

  “Your houseguest heard someone break in and called 911.”

  Zook was standing in the hall, hanging on to Bob’s collar. “Right after you left, I heard someone at the back door,” Zook said. “Bob heard them, too, and he started barking, and he never barks if it’s someone he knows, so I grabbed Bob and brought him into my room, and then I locked my door and called 911. I put all my lights off and looked out the window at the backyard, and just before the first police car showed up, I saw two men run out of the house and across the yard.”

  “What did they look like?” Morelli asked.

  “I don’t know. Just average. I couldn’t see. It was real dark. But one of them had a shovel.”

  “You have forced entry on the back door,” one of the cops said to Morelli. “And the basement door was open. Other than that, everything seems okay.”

  After everyone left, Morelli walked through the house, checking windows and doors. He searched the basement, the closets, all nooks and crannies and under the beds.

  “Tomorrow we get the alarm system up and running,” he said.

  MORELLI TOOK HIS cereal bowl and coffee mug to the sink. “I’m going to take a look at Stanley Zero this morning. Do you have any plans?”

  “I’m doing laundry.”

  “That’s pretty exciting.”

  “I’m washing sheets,” I told him.

  Morelli slid an arm around me and kissed my neck. “I love when you talk about sheets.”

  Now, here’s the thing I like about Morelli. There’s a lot of variety to his sexiness. He can be hot, he can be funny, he can be loving, he can be short on time and hungry. This morning, he was playful.

  “Would you like to know what I’m going to do to you tonight when you slide between those sheets?” I asked him.

  The depth of his eyes instantly changed, and he left playful behind. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d like to know.”

  “You have to wait.”

  “I’m not good at waiting.”

  “No kidding!”

  Morelli broke out in a wide grin. “Have I just been insulted?”

  “Only a little. Did you get the background report on Zero? I left it on your desk.”

  “Got it. Thanks. Keep your eyes open here.”

  “You betcha.”

  Ten minutes after Morelli left, Zook shuffled down the stairs and into the kitchen. He helped himself to a bagel and took it into the living room.

  Moments later, Gary was at the back door. “I thought I smelled coffee.”

  I pointed to the coffeepot. “Help yourself.”

  He looked at the bag of bagels sitting on the counter.

  “Would you like a bagel?” I asked him.

  “Yeah! That would be great.”

  Morelli was going to have to find the nine million and take a cut just to pay his electric and food bills.

  Sunday mornings are quiet in the Burg and surrounding communities. The women go to church, and the men take the Sunday paper and sit on the can. I’ve never understood the attraction of sitting on a toilet, pants at your ankles, newspaper in hand. I could think of a million better places to read the paper. And yet this is a firmly adhered-to Sunday ritual for Burg husbands. My father couldn’t imagine a Sunday morning without this quality bathroom experience. Unmarried men seem to be exempt.

  After Morelli’s car left his neighborhood, there was no more street traffic. No dogs were walked. No kids on skateboards. Just Sunday morning quiet. And that’s why it was twice as startling when the brick sailed through Morelli’s living room window.

  Zook and Gary were on the couch, deep into the world of Minionfire, I was walking though the living room, on my way to collect the laundry, and the glass shattered. We all jumped and there was a collective gasp of surprise.

  Jelly’s apartment explosion and fire were still fresh in my mind. I looked at the brick, which had a small box attached, and my first thought was bomb. I rushed over, picked the brick up, and threw it back outside via the broken window.

  Gary and Zook were frozen on the couch, eyes huge, mouths open. I went to the front door and looked out. The brick was just sitting there on Morelli’s postage-stamp lawn. The box attached to the brick looked small to be a bomb, but heck, what do I know? I watched it for a couple minutes and cautiously crept out to take a closer look. I was standing there, looking at the brick, when Mooner strolled up and stood next to me.

  “Whoa,” Mooner said. “That’s a brick.”

  “Yep.”

  He bent down to see it better. “It’s got a box attached to it.”

  And before I could stop him, he picked it up and shook it to see if the box rattled.

  “It’s got the dude’s name on it,” Mooner said.

  I craned my neck and read the writing on the box. JOE MORELLI.

  “What’s it doing sitting here in the yard?” Mooner wanted to know. “There’s no mail delivery today. It’s a Sunday. Even I know that.”

  “Someone tossed it through Morelli’s window.”

  “Get the heck out,” Mooner said. “Was the window open?”

  “No,” I told him.

  “Get the heck out,” he said.

  The box was held to the brick with electrician’s tape. I took the box upstairs, set it on Morelli’s desk, and called Morelli.

  “How’s it going?” I asked him.

  “Not good. I got a call from dispatch. Two gang killings in the projects. I’m on my way there now. I don’t know when I’ll get home. Sometimes these things take time to sort out. What’s up with you?”

  “Someone pitched a brick through your living room window. And attached to the brick was a box with your name on it.”

  “Is this for real?”

  “Yep.”

  “Put the brick and the box in the garage. Don’t leave it in the house. Better
to blow up the garage than the house.”

  “Do you think it’s a bomb?”

  “I think it doesn’t hurt to be careful. I’ll deal with it when I’m done here,” Morelli said. “And I’ll call Mooch and get him to replace the glass. And I’ll make arrangements to have an alarm system installed.”

  I disconnected and stared at the box. I was faced with a dilemma. Gary was living in the garage. I didn’t want to explode Gary. No big deal, I thought. Just ask Gary to pull his camper out of the garage.

  The doorbell chimed, the door opened and closed, and I heard Lula ask for me.

  “I’m upstairs,” I yelled at her. “Come on up.”

  Lula was dressed down. Running shoes, black stretch yoga pants, and a black stretch T-shirt that looked like it was going to burst at the seams.

  “What’s the occasion?” I asked her.

  “I went to try some wedding gowns yesterday, and it was a depressing experience. First off, they only had itty-bitty sizes for those skinny bitches. Like us big and beautiful women don’t get married? And then they said they were gonna have to charge extra on account of they were gonna have to order so much material. What the heck is that about? It’s not like I’m getting a circus tent. So anyway, I decided I’d join a gym. I figure with the money I save on less material, I could pay for the membership.”

  “That’s a terrific idea. I should do something like that. What gym did you join?”

  “I didn’t exactly join a gym yet. I just got the clothes.”

  “It’s a start,” I said to Lula.

  “Damn right,” Lula said. “What’s this package with Morelli’s name on it? And why’s it on a brick?”

  “Someone pitched it through his living room window just now.”

  “Get the heck out. What are you going to do with it?”

  “Morelli wants me to put it in the garage for safe keeping until he gets home later today.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Lula picked the box up and tested its weight. “It could be something important that requires immediate attention. I think you should open this sucker.”

  “It could be a bomb.”

  “Okay then, let Gary open it.”

  I did an eye roll.

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Lula said. “He’s always saying how he knows things. Let’s see if he knows it’s a bomb. Anyway, it don’t look like a bomb.”

  “It’s all wrapped up. How could you tell?”

  “Well, if it was a bomb, it would be a little one.”

  I heard Bob jump off the bed and head down the stairs.

  “I need to get the glass cleaned up before Bob steps in it,” I told Lula. “Put the box down and look up some gyms in the phone book and we’ll check some out.”

  Five minutes later, I walked back into Morelli’s office and found Lula unwrapping the box.

  “It’s not a bomb,” Lula said. “There’s a note in here and something all wrapped up.” She handed me the note.

  “That was addressed to Morelli,” I said to her.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t want him to get hisself all blown up. Besides, I kicked the box around some and nothing happened, so I figured it was safe.”

  I unfolded the piece of paper and read the printed message.

  I KNOW YOU HAVE THE MONEY. GIVE ME THE MONEY AND I’LL GIVE YOU LORETTA. JUST SO YOU KNOW I’M SERIOUS I’M ENCLOSING A PRESENT. EVERY DAY I DON’T GET THE MONEY YOU’LL GET ANOTHER PRESENT. HANG A RED SCARF IN THE UPSTAIRS WINDOW WHEN YOU WANT TO MAKE A DEAL.

  “I like getting presents,” Lula said, “but this one don’t smell too good.”

  I had a bad feeling about this present. I carefully peeled away the tissue paper, and we stared at a pinkie toe with red toenail polish.

  “Good pedicure,” Lula said.

  I clapped a hand over my mouth and told myself I wasn’t going to throw up. I was sweating at my hairline and little black dots were floating in front of my eyes. They’d chopped off one of Loretta’s toes, and they were going to keep chopping until they got their money.

  “Maybe we should give them the money,” Lula said.

  “We don’t have the money,” I whispered.

  “Oh yeah. I forgot.”

  “I don’t want Zook to see this,” I told her. “He’s just a kid. He doesn’t need this. And I can’t stand around and let them chop off Loretta’s body parts. We have to find either Loretta or the money.”

  “And we’re gonna do this how?”

  “I have a lead.”

  “Okay,” Lula said. “But what about the pinkie toe?”

  “It’s evidence. I’ll put it in the freezer for now.”

  _______

  I’D SEEN ARMY barracks that were more attractive than Stanley Zero’s apartment complex. Hummingbird Hollow consisted of six cement-block, three-story buildings clustered around a large macadam parking lot. As far as I could see, there were no trees, no flowers, no hummingbirds. And the only hollow was an empty, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. The mailboxes would lead me to believe that there were twenty-four units to each building. Zero lived on the second floor, in unit 2D, with his windows facing the lot. According to my report, he lived alone. I found his truck in the lot, and I checked the plate to make sure.

  “He’s home,” I said to Lula.

  We were in Lula’s Firebird. It wasn’t the best surveillance vehicle, but it was better than my Zook car. Lula slid into a space behind and to the left of the F150.

  “Now what?” Lula asked.

  “Now we wait.”

  “I hate to wait. He don’t know me. How about if I go up and ring his bell and ask if he wants some Lula? Then I could look around and see if he got Loretta tied up without her toe in his closet.”

  “They don’t have Loretta here,” I said. “It’s not private enough. You can probably hear everything through these walls. I’m hoping he’ll go out and lead us to his partner.”

  We sat for an hour, looking up into his windows, watching the building’s back door. Nothing.

  “He might not even be in there,” Lula said. “Maybe someone came and picked him up, and we’ll sit here ’til the cows come home.”

  “Then we’ll check out the car that drops him off, and maybe that car will belong to the partner.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to go up there and poke around?” Lula asked.

  I cut my eyes to her. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

  “I should have brought my bride magazines to read. I got nothing to do here. I sit here much longer, I’m gonna get that thing they were talking about on the morning show . . . restless leg syndrome.”

  “Okay already, go see if he’s home.”

  Lula marched across the lot and into the building. Five minutes later, she was back at the car.

  “Nobody home,” Lula said. “I tried the door, but it was locked.”

  “That doesn’t usually stop you.”

  “I fiddled with the lock a little, but I couldn’t get anything to work. Too bad, because this here’s a good opportunity to snoop.”

  I called Ranger. “I’m watching an apartment off Route 1, and I’d like to get in but it’s locked up tight.”

  “I’ll send Slick.”

  I gave Ranger the address, and Lula and I waited with slightly elevated heart rates. Breaking and entering was always tense. Especially since it was a crapshoot if Lula could squeeze under a bed. A shiny black Rangeman SUV pulled into the lot and Slick got out and went into the building. He was out of uniform, dressed in jeans and a baggy shirt. Wouldn’t be good if he was seen picking a lock in Rangeman black. Five minutes later, he walked through the door, looked my way, and nodded. He got into the Rangeman SUV, and drove away.

  “Rock and roll,” Lula said.

  We took the stairs to the second floor and went directly to Zero’s apartment. I turned the knob, and the door opened. We stepped inside and closed the door.

  “Hello,” I called out.

  No o
ne answered.

  We were standing in an area that was living room, dining room. Beyond was the kitchen and a hall that would lead to the bedrooms. The furniture was old and collected for comfort with no thought to design. Empty beer cans and Styrofoam coffee cups with days-old coffee still in the bottom were left on end tables. A couple newspapers had been tossed to the floor. Mud had been tracked onto the rug. Not that it mattered. The rug looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed in a long, long time. Maybe never.

  We glanced at the kitchen and moved into the hall. It was a one-bedroom, one-bath apartment, and the bedroom door was open. Lula and I looked through the open door and froze. There was a man on the floor, toes up, eyes open, bullet hole in the middle of his head. Dead.

  “I hate when we find dead people,” Lula said. “Dead people give me the heebie-jeebies. I’m not doing this no more if we keep finding dead people. And I’m getting out of here. I’m not staying in no room with a guy with a hole in his head.”

  Don’t panic, I told myself. Take it one step at a time. I followed Lula back to the living room, did some deep breathing, and punched Morelli’s number into my cell phone.

  “Talk,” Morelli said.

  “I found another dead guy.”

  “You want to run that by me again?”

  “Lula and I decided we’d talk to Stanley Zero, so we knocked on his door, and the door swung open, and we found a dead guy in the bedroom.”

  There was a moment of silence, and I knew Morelli was either popping Rolaids or counting to ten. Probably both. “The door swung open when you touched it,” he finally said.

  “Yeah.” No need to go into details on how the door got unlocked, right? I mean, he didn’t ask how it got unlocked.

  “Where are you now?”

  “In the living room,” I told him.

  “Anything else I need to know before I call this in?”

  “Nope. That’s the whole enchilada.”

  I disconnected and noticed Lula had her keys in her hand.

  “Are you going somewhere?” I asked Lula.

  “I figure you don’t need me anymore, so I thought I’d go home. I got things to do. I gotta think about a honeymoon. And this place is gonna be swarming with cops, and I hate cops. Except for Morelli. Morelli is fine.”