Morelli's street was pretty much deserted, except for a van in front of Morelli's house. The van belonged to Joe's cousin, Mooch. Mooch was covering the graffiti, painting Joe's front door a bright red. The graffiti was still on the sidewalk, but it didn't look as if anything new had been added. I slowed but I didn't stop. Mooch didn't look around from his work, and I didn't call out.
Next stop was Carol Cantell. I wasn't obligated to check on her every day, but I'd become attached to Carol. How could you not like someone who held up a Frito-Lay truck and then ate the evidence?
I parked in front of the Cantell house and walked to the porch. Carol's sister, Cindy, opened the door before I rang the bell.
"We were in the front room, and we saw you pull up in the truck," Cindy said. "Is something wrong?"
I looked around Cindy to Carol. "Social visit. I wanted to make sure everything was okay."
"I'm feeling a lot better," Carol said. "I think I got the chips out of my system."
Cindy leaned closer. "Boy, you smell great," she said to me. "You smell like . . . I don't know. Not exactly perfume."
"Its shower gel," I said. "I borrowed it from a guy I know."
Carol came over and sniffed at me. "Is he married?"
"No."
"Would he like to be?"
The question stuck with me until I was well out of Cantell's neighborhood. I hadn't a clue to the answer. I worked with Ranger, I drove his truck and I was living in his apartment, and yet I knew almost nothing about him. A few facts. He'd been married when he was very young, and he had a daughter in Florida. He'd dropped out of college to join the army. While in the army, he'd been Special Forces. That was about it. He never shared his thoughts. He rarely showed emotion. A smile once in a while. His apartment yielded little. He had good taste in furniture, leaning toward earth tones, and he had great taste in soap.
It was lunchtime, and I hadn't any idea what to do next, so I parked in the Shop n Bag lot and ate two of the doughnuts. I was scraping a blob of custard off my shirt when my phone rang.
"Where are you?" Morelli wanted to know.
"I'm in the Shop n Bag lot, and I'm eating lunch."
"Have you heard the rumors?"
"There are so many. Which ones are you talking about?"
Morelli gave an exasperated sigh.
"Oh," I said. "Those rumors. Yeah, I heard those rumors."
"What are you going to do about them?"
"I'm sort of hiding."
"You'd better hide really well, because I'll put you under house arrest if I find you."
"On what charges?"
"Reckless endangerment of self and driving me nuts. Where are you hiding? You're not staying with your parents. I checked."
"I'm staying at a friend's place."
"Is it safe?"
"Yep." Except from the friend.
"I'd feel better if you sounded more scared," Morelli said. "These guys are crazy. They're unpredictable and irrational. They operate under a whole different set of rules."
Morelli disconnected and it was my turn to give an exasperated sigh. I was trying hard not to be scared.
I decided as long as I was in the lot I might as well do some food shopping, so I locked the truck and ambled into the store. I got a box of Frosted Flakes, a loaf of nice mushy white bread, a jar of peanut butter (the good kind that's been hydrogenated and is full of trans fats and sugar), and a jar of nongourmet olives.
I was pushing my cart down the sanitary products aisle when Mrs. Zuch spotted me.
"Stephanie Plum!" she said. "I can't remember when I last saw you. I see your grandmother all the time, and I hear all about your exploits."
"Whatever Grandma said, it's not true."
"And this business about the Slayers . . ."
"That's especially not true."
"Everyone's talking about it. How you single-handed put them out of business. It's a shame about the killer."
"Killer?"
"You know, the contract that's out on you. I hear they brought someone in from California. I'm surprised you're out and about like this. You don't even look like you're wearing a bulletproof vest, or anything."
Was she serious? "It's all rumor," I said. "None of it's true."
"I understand," Mrs. Zuch said. "And I think it's admirable that you're being so brave and so modest. But if it was me, I'd be wearing the vest."
"I don't think the Slayers spend a lot of time in Shop n Bag."
"You could be right," Mrs. Zuch said. "But just in case, I think I'll move on now."
And Mrs. Zuch put distance between us.
I made an effort not to furtively look over my shoulder while I wheeled my shopping cart to check out.
My phone rang when I got to the truck.
"What's all this noise about a contract killer?" Connie wanted to know. "Have you talked to Joe?"
"I talked to Joe, but he didn't say anything about a killer."
"Vinnie just wrote a bond on a kid from Slayerland, and all the kid could talk about was how you're going down."
I rested my forehead on the steering wheel. This was out of control. "I can't talk now," I told Connie. "I'll call you back."
I dialed Morelli, and I did some deep breathing while I waited.
"Yeah?" Morelli said.
"It's me. You know when you asked me if I heard the rumors? Just exactly what rumors were you referring to?"
"Your vow to rid the world of Slayers rumor. Your vow to identify the Red Devil rumor. Oh yeah, and the contract killer rumor. That's my personal favorite."
"I just heard about the contract killer. Is it true?"
"Don't know. We're checking. Are you still in the Shop n Bag lot?"
A little alarm went off in my brain. He wouldn't actually try to catch me and lock me up in his house, would he?
"I did some grocery shopping, and I'm on my way back to the office," I told him. "Let me know if you hear anything."
I disconnected, plunged the key into the ignition, and took off, driving in the opposite direction of the office. This was dandy. Now I had to hide out from the Slayers and from Morelli.
I had time to kill before I met Lula for our movie date and capture, so I headed for the mall. When in doubt . . . shop. I parked at the Macy's entrance and meandered through the shoe department. My credit card was pretty much maxed out, and I didn't see anything worth going to debtors' prison over, so I wandered out of Macy's and hit the Godiva store. I collected all the loose change in the bottom of my bag, and I got two pieces of chocolate. If you buy chocolate with loose change the calories don't count. And anyway, one of the pieces was a raspberry truffle, so it was fruit. And fruit is healthy, right?
My cell phone rang while I was eating the second truffle.
"I thought you were going back to the office," Morelli said.
"Changed my mind at the last minute."
"Where are you?"
"Point Pleasant. I had some time, so I thought I'd take a walk on the boardwalk. It's such a nice day. A little windy here, though."
"Sounds like there are a lot of people there."
"I'm in a pavilion."
"Sounds more like a shopping center."
"And you called, why?" I asked.
"They've released your car. I had it detailed and all the graffiti came off. You can pick it up anytime."
"Thanks. That's great. I'll send my dad over for it."
"You can run, but you can't hide, Cupcake," Morelli said. "I'll find you."
"You are such a cop."
"Tell me about it."
I disconnected and left the mall. It was almost six, so I headed for Lula's house. I ate the rest of the doughnuts while I sat in traffic on Route 1.
Lula was outside, sitting on her stoop, waiting for me. "You're late," she said. "We're gonna miss the beginning of the movie. I hate that."
"Traffic," I told her. "And anyway, I'm only five minutes late. We have lots of time."
"Yeah, but I gotta get pop
corn. You can't watch no mutant movie without popcorn. And probably I need soda and some candy to balance out all that salt and grease on the popcorn."
I parked in the multiplex lot and took a last look at the Pancek file. "Harold Pancek," I read to Lula. "Twenty-two years old. Blond hair, blue eyes, Caucasian. Chunky build. Five feet ten inches tall. No identifying characteristics. This is the guy who took a leak on the rosebush. He's got a low ticket bond. We're not going to make a lot of money on him, but we need to bring him in anyway."
"On account of we're professionals," Lula said.
"Yeah. And if we want to keep the job, we haven't got a choice."
I pulled the file photo, and Lula and I studied it.
"He reminds me of someone," Lula said. "I can't put my finger on it."
"SpongeBob SquarePants. Yellow hair. No neck. Body by Lego."
"That's it. Skin like a sponge."
I slipped the photo and the authorization to capture into my shoulder bag. I also had cuffs, a stun gun, and defense spray in the bag. My gun was in Morelli's cookie jar. Ranger's gun was in the truck. God knows what Lula had in her bag. Could be a loaded rocket launcher.
We crossed the lot and entered the theater. We got our tickets, our popcorn, our soda, our M&Ms, Jujubes, Twizzlers, and Junior Mints.
"Look there," Lula said. "SpongeHead is collecting tickets."
The smart thing would be to cuff him now. Any number of things could go wrong if I waited. He could go home sick. He could recognize me and leave. He could decide he hated his job and quit, never to be seen again.
"Ive been dying to see this movie," Lula said, her arm wrapped around a tub of popcorn that was big enough to feed a family of eight.
"We really should cuff him now. If we wait he could get away."
"Are you kidding me? I got my popcorn. I got my soda. I got my Twizzlers. And on top of that, we've never been to a movie together. We never do anything together except work. I think this here's quality bonding time. And what about that hot mutant? Don't you want to see the mutant?"
She had me there. I wanted to see the mutant. I approached Pancek and handed him my ticket. I looked him in the eye and smiled. He smiled back, blank-faced, and tore my ticket in half. He did the same to Lula. No glimmer of recognition for either of us.
"This is gonna be a snap," Lula said, taking a seat. "On our way out we'll clap the cuffs on ol' Harold and trot him off to jail."
* * *
After ninety minutes of mutant action, Lula was ready to bag Pancek.
"We could be as good as those mutants," Lula said to me. "You know the only difference between us and those mutants? Costumes. They had cool costumes. I'm telling you, you can't go wrong with capes and boots. And you need an insignia. Maybe we should get an insignia. Something with a lightning bolt."
Pancek was in the aisle directing people to the exit. Lula walked past Pancek, turned, and stood at his back. I was a few steps behind Lula.
I smiled at Pancek. "Harold Pancek?" I asked. Like I was some long-lost friend.
"Yeah," he said. "Do I know you?"
"Stephanie Plum," I said. "I'm a recovery agent for Vincent Plum Bail Bonds." And click, the cuff was on his wrist.
"Hey," he said. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"You failed to show for a court hearing. I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you in to get rescheduled."
"I'm working."
"You're leaving an hour early today," I told him.
"I gotta tell my boss."
I snapped the second bracelet on him and gave him a nudge toward the door. "We'll make sure your boss knows."
"No, wait a minute. On second thought, I don't want anyone to know. This is embarrassing. Jeez, is everyone looking?"
"Not everyone," Lula said. "I think there's a guy over by the popcorn counter who's not looking."
"It's all a big mistake, anyway. I'm not the one who killed her rosebush."
"I suppose it was the phantom leaker," Lula said.
"It was Grizwaldi's dog. He lifts his leg on that bush every day. This is discrimination. I don't see Grizwaldi's dog getting hauled into court. Everybody knows he pisses on everything, but it's okay because he's a dog. It's not fair."
"I see your point," Lula said. "Not that it makes any difference. We're still gonna cart your chunky ass off to jail."
Pancek dug his heels in. "No way. I'm not going to jail."
"You're making a scene," I told him.
"Fine. I'll make a scene. I have a cause."
"The mutants would never have stood for this," Lula said. "Those mutants didn't put up with anything."
I gave Pancek a yank forward and maneuvered him through the lobby, up to the exit door. I was talking to him all the way, trying to get him to cooperate. "It's not like you're going to get locked away," I said. "We have to bring you to the station to reschedule. That's just the way it's done. We'll get you bonded out again as soon as possible."
I held the door open and nudged Pancek out the door, into the lot. Cars were at least ten rows deep, parked under the glare of the overhead security lights. I was parked five rows back.
Lula and I led Pancek through three rows of cars and stopped. An SUV was idling in the aisle between parked cars. A silver compact was nose-to-nose with the SUV. A black guy in a silky white oversized warm-up suit was standing beside the SUV, talking to a white male dressed head to toe in Abercrombie & Fitch. Both men were late teens. From what I could see of the silver car, there was a couple in the backseat and a girl in the passenger-side front seat.
"We don't want to be seeing this," Lula said. "Used to be you had to go looking for the dope, and now the dope comes to you."
I called the Hamilton Police and told them they had a problem in the multiplex lot. Then I called the theater and told them to send security into the lot.
The guy in the silky suit and the kid kept talking. The silky suit was stoic and the white kid was agitated. The girl in the front passenger seat got out of the car. Impatient.
"This isn't good," Lula said. "She should never have got out of the car. These are gang guys. They got a philosophy about women makes Eminem sound like he's writing nursery rhymes."
Three big guys in homey clothes, all wearing red scarves flying from pants pockets, got out of the SUV and did their I'm a big bad gang member shuffle over to the negotiation. One of the big guys jabbed a finger into the Abercrombie & Fitch kid's chest and got into his face. The kid pushed back. The gang guy took out a gun and held it to the kid's head.
"Crap," Lula said on a sigh.
I looked over my shoulder, wondering what was taking security so long. Probably this happened all the time and no one wanted to come into the lot until the police arrived.
The girl's eyes were wide. Deer caught in the headlights. The remaining gang members turned on her, walking her backward, trapping her against Ranger's truck. Another gun was drawn. A knife appeared.
I pressed the panic button on the trucks remote and the truck alarm went off.
Everyone jumped.
The SUV guys piled into their car, backed up, and left the lot, burning rubber.
I did a double hit on the panic button, and the alarm went silent. I turned to Lula and realized Pancek was missing. We'd forgotten to keep watch over Pancek. Worse than losing Pancek, he'd taken off wearing a sixty-dollar pair of cuffs.
Lula was looking around, too. "Don't you hate when they take off like that?" she said. "If there's one thing I can't stand it's a sneaky felon."
"He can't have gone far. You take one side of the lot and I'll take the other, and we'll meet in the theater."
There was the sound of a car engine coming to life in the second row. A car was gunned out of its parking space, and the car roared off toward the exit. I caught a glimpse of yellow hair on the guy behind the wheel.
"Guess we don't have to search the lot no more," Lula said. "Bet it's hard to drive with those cuffs on. Think you should have cuffed him behind his ba
ck like the book says."
"He didn't seem dangerous. I was trying to be nice to him."
"See where that gets you. Never be nice to people."
I unlocked the truck and climbed in. "Maybe he's dumb enough to go home," I said to Lula. "We'll check out his house."
We pulled out of the lot, and I saw two Hamilton Township PD cars angled into the curb, lights flashing, half a block down. One was a squad car and the other was unmarked. The SUV was in front of the squad car. The occupants of the SUV were palms down on the SUV hood, getting searched.
I eased past the police cars and recognized Gus Chianni. He was standing back, letting the uniforms do their job. Most of the Hamilton cops were strangers to me. I knew Chianni because he was one of Morelli's longtime drinking buddies.
I stopped and powered my window down. "What's going on?" I asked Chianni.
"Speeding," he said, smiling. "We were answering your call and ran across this SUV doing eighty in a twenty."
"It's the car I called in."
His smile widened. "I figured." He took a step back and looked at Ranger's truck. "You steal this?"
"Borrowed."
"Bet Joe's happy about that."
All the cops knew Ranger's truck.
"Gotta go," I said. If Chianni was here, Morelli wasn't far behind.
The guy in the white silk warm-up suit turned his head sideways and stared at me. His face held no expression, but his eyes were like still pools in the river Styx. Black and bottomless and terrifying. He gave a slight nod, as if to say he knew who I was. His right hand lifted off the SUV hood and he made the sign of a gun, thumb up, index finger extended. He mouthed the word bang at me.
Chianni saw it, too. "Be careful," he said to me.
I went out to the highway and drove in the opposite direction to what I would ordinarily take to get to the Burg.
Plum 10 - Ten Big Ones Page 11