Twisted Twenty-Six

by Janet Evanovich

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  IT WAS MORNING. I was in Morelli’s bed, and I was loving the luxury of sleeping late. Morelli came in with coffee and my laundry basket. He was dressed in sweats and a T-shirt.

  “I told the guys I’d play ball with them this morning,” he said. “Bob’s been walked and fed. And your mom dropped your laundry basket off on her way to church.” He handed me the coffee, kissed me on the top of my head, and left.

  I sat up in bed and drank my coffee, thinking this was nice. This was the way life should be. Drinking coffee in bed on a Saturday morning. I finished my coffee, took a shower, and went downstairs. I allowed myself the extra treat of toasting my frozen waffle, had a second cup of coffee, and was ready to start my day. I also had an epiphany. Maybe the reason I didn’t have a work-related passion was that I actually didn’t want to work at all. I had a passion for doing nothing. Now that I realized this, I just had to find a way to get paid for it.

  I drove past my parents’ house on my way to the office. The Rangeman SUV was parked at the curb, and I didn’t see any crazy old Italian men skulking around. It was all good.

  Lula and Connie were listening to police chatter when I walked in.

  “Richie is on another roof,” Connie said. “They’re trying to get him in the bucket, but he says he’s waiting for his dragon to return.”

  “I’ll say it again,” Lula said. “That boy needs a more reliable dragon.”

  Connie and I looked at Lula.

  “You don’t really think he has a flying dragon, do you?” Connie asked Lula.

  Lula leaned forward and cocked her head, eyebrows up. “Have you got a better explanation?”

  “No,” Connie said.

  Lula sat back. “There you have it. Boom.”

  “Anything new come in?” I asked Connie.

  “No, but it’s early. Oliver Turkel had his hearing yesterday, and he has a history of no-shows.”

  “I remember him,” Lula said. “He’s the guy who robs people and then moons them. It’s his trademark move. Last time we brought him in, he mooned Stephanie and me. I even got it videoed on my phone.”

  “Something to look forward to seeing,” Connie said.

  “Yeah, but I doubt he’ll moon us again,” Lula said. “Stephanie tagged him on his bare ass with her stun gun, and he went down like a sack of cement. And then he wet himself.” Lula shook her head. “It wasn’t a real pretty sight.”

  I did an involuntary shiver at the memory.

  “I’m still up for finding the shoplifter,” Lula said. “I vote we ride around and look for him. And we could ride down Maple Street and see if Richie is still on the roof. It’s not far from where Carol Joyce lives.”

  This sounded like a decent activity. It was a nice day to go cruising around. And I didn’t think anything would come of it. We could look for Carol for a couple hours, have lunch, and then I’d quit for the day and go back to Morelli’s house to get my laundry. Maybe Morelli would want to go to the shore.

  We started by checking out Richie Meister. He was still on the roof, and traffic was snarled for blocks.

  “I can see the hook and ladder,” Lula said. “They got the big ladder up.”

  “Do you see any dragons?”

  “Nope. Not a single one.”

  I circled around the Richie mess and drove past the Joyce house. No SUV in the driveway, thank goodness. I wasn’t in a mood to arrest Carol Joyce.

  “I’ve been thinking about our job,” Lula said. “And how you don’t like it anymore. And I think it’s that we aren’t badass like Ranger and Tank. You know what the difference is between them and us?”

  “How much time do I have to answer?”

  “The difference is we haven’t got a badass uniform. We’re just as good as them, but they got the uniform, you see what I’m saying? Even Dog got a badass uniform. Okay, so his hair needs some help, but he’s got the black leather thing working for him.”

  “I can’t see you wearing a uniform every day.”

  “I would have to personalize it. Like I could bedazzle it.”

  “I have a uniform,” I said. “I’m wearing it.”

  “See that’s your problem. You need some enthusiasm, and there’s no enthusiasm to those clothes. Only thing on you that’s got enthusiasm is your hair extensions, and they’re starting to fall out. We got to get you new extensions. I’m thinking fire red next time. That’s a power color.”

  “It’s not the clothes or the lack of extensions,” I said. “It’s what we see. It’s Oliver Turkel.”

  “Oliver Turkel was great,” Lula said. “You got him square on his ass, and he peed himself like a big dog. Sometimes when I need a laugh, I replay that video.”

  “It isn’t funny. It’s disgusting and horrible.”

  “Yeah, but it’s funny in a disgusting and horrible way. You got to put things into perspective.”

  I got to Quaker Bridge Mall and drove up and down the aisles. No Escalade with Carol’s plate number. So far, my luck was holding. I left the lot and returned to Route One, and my mother called.

  “She’s gone,” she said, and the shaky note of hysteria in her voice sent an instant chill through me.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m home. We were at the bake sale at the church and she disappeared. She went to use the restroom and never came back. I tried calling her, but she wasn’t answering. Then I thought maybe we got our signals crossed, and she thought she was supposed to walk home.”

  “How long has she been gone?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t think. Thirty minutes, maybe. Ranger’s got everyone looking for her. The young men in the car felt terrible, but it wasn’t their fault. She must have gone out through the side door.”

  “Are you sure she’s not in the church? There are lots of rooms.”

  “I don’t know why she would be someplace other than the restroom, but I guess it’s possible.”

  “I’m on Route One. I’ll be home soon.”

  I hung up and called Morelli.

  He answered on the first ring. “I just heard,” he said. “Ranger called. I’m sending some guys over to help them sweep the church. I’m heading there now.”

  “Is anyone with my mom?”

  “Ranger has two men with her.”

  I’d taken the call on speakerphone, and Lula had been listening in.

  “What can I do?” she asked.

  “I’m going to drop you at the office. Tell Connie to start making phone calls. And then you can ride around the streets.”

  * * *

  —

  Morelli and Ranger were huddled in the vestibule when I walked into the church.

  “Anything?” I asked.

  “We’re questioning everyone who was here to see if they saw or heard anything,” Morelli said. “We have a team going room to room. So far, the church is clean. We haven’t been able to find any signs to indicate struggle.”

  I looked around. “Are there security cameras?”

  “No,” Morelli said. “They have an alarm system that they use at night, but there are no cameras.”

  One of Ranger’s men came up to him.

  “We found this behind a trash receptacle by the side door,” he said.

  It was Grandma’s big black patent leather purse. I looked inside, and her gun was still there. Her cellphone was tucked into a side compartment.

  I had to take a couple breaths to steady myself. This wasn’t a time to disintegrate into an emotional basket case.

  “Are you okay?” Morelli asked.

  I nodded. “I needed a moment.”

  “Understood,” Morelli said.

  “Where do we go from here?” I asked.

  “I’m going to talk to the La-Z-Boys and explain the realities of life to them,” More
lli said. “You and Ranger can work the Lucca angle.”

  “I need to check in with my mom,” I said to Ranger.

  “I’ll meet you at the house. I want to give some instructions to my men.”

  It was a short drive, and I took it slow, scanning yards, taking notice of car occupants. I parked in the driveway behind my mom’s car. The Rangeman SUV was at the curb. My dad was pacing in the living room.

  “All these years I wanted to kill her, and now someone might do the job for me and I don’t like it,” he said. “Go figure that.”

  My mom was in the kitchen, sitting at the table.

  “You aren’t ironing,” I said.

  “I can’t find the energy to iron. I’m heartsick. My chest aches with it.”

  I made coffee for us, and I laced my mom’s with whiskey. “She’s strong,” I said. “She’ll come out okay. We’ll find her.”

  My mom nodded and sipped her coffee. “This is good,” she said. “Thank you. I feel like I should be doing something, but I don’t know what it is.”

  “Stay here in the house in case she tries to contact you or manages to get home. I’m working with Ranger to find her, and Morelli is doing his cop thing.”

  I finished my coffee, rinsed my mug, and went outside to wait for Ranger. I had my messenger bag with me, stuffed full of all the information Connie had printed out for me on the Lucca case.

  Ranger cruised down the street and idled behind the Rangeman SUV. He was driving a new black Porsche Cayenne Turbo, the big brother to my Macan. I slid in next to him and saw that the instrument panel had been tricked out so he could communicate with his control room.

  “I don’t think your passion is fighting crime,” I said. “I think you have a passion for expensive James Bond toys.”

  “Success has its rewards. Where would you like to begin?”

  “Someone hired Lucca and Velez to kidnap Grandma. We need to find that person. I have two potentials, but I’m only lukewarm about them. Barbara Rosolli and Sidney DeSalle.”

  “I know DeSalle,” Ranger said. “He’s a bad guy.”

  “He owns Miracle Fitness, and Lucca was a trainer there.”

  “Motivation?”

  “Greed? Or maybe they have something on him and he’s afraid of a document dump. Barbara Rosolli was Jimmy’s first wife. She lives on Chambers Street next to her daughter Jeanine. Her motivation is clear. She wants the money. She also has a lot of anger, and she knew Lucca from Miracle Fitness.”

  “What about the sisters?” Ranger asked.

  “I couldn’t find a connection to Lucca, and they have a different agenda. I think they’re just enjoying the feud. It’s like the Hatfields and McCoys for them.”

  “Let’s do the ex-wife first,” Ranger said.

  Barbara Rosolli lived in small two-story house that had a postage stamp front yard and a narrow front porch that ran the width of the house. The house was painted white with black window trim, and some of the trim was beginning to peel. Jeanine’s house, next door, was similar. The two were separated by a driveway that led to a single-car detached garage that sat at the back end of the lot.

  Ranger parked on the opposite side of the street from Barbara’s house, and we watched for activity. Shades were up on the front windows. A car was in the driveway. I saw no flicker from a television. No one peering out a window at us.

  “Let’s do it,” Ranger said.

  We crossed the street, I rang the bell, and Barbara answered.

  “Stephanie,” she said, “I just heard about Edna.” Her attention turned to Ranger, and her eyes got wide. “Well, hello! Who do we have here?”

  “This is Ranger,” I said. “We’re working together to find Grandma. May we come in?”

  “Is it necessary?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  Barbara rolled her eyes, stepped away from the door, and made a sweeping enter motion. I hadn’t been in her house before, and I was surprised at the decorating. It was very neat and quietly pleasant. Comfortable, basic furniture in neutrals. Fresh flowers on the coffee table. It looked like a nice person lived there.

  Jeanine came in from the kitchen. “Stephanie, I thought I heard my mom say your name. We were just having lunch and talking about what happened at the church. We were at the bake sale earlier. We must have just missed your grandmother and your mom. What happened? Did Edna just wander away? It’s not like her.”

  “We think she might have gone off with someone,” I said.

  “A friend?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe someone who was unhappy with her.”

  “Oh gosh,” Jeanine said.

  “Did you see anyone who might fall into either of those categories?” I asked her.

  “There were a lot of people there. There was a late Mass and then the bake sale. There were certainly some people who could be considered friends. A bunch of the women from bingo. I don’t know about the people who might want to harm her.”

  “Any La-Z-Boys?”

  Jeanine looked over at her mom. “Did you see any?”

  “No,” Barbara said, “but one of Benny’s wiseguy caregivers was there. He bought a coffee cake.”

  “I guess you know that one of the men who tried to kidnap Grandma was a trainer at Miracle Fitness,” I said.

  “Of course,” Jeanine said. “What happens in the Burg is instantly known by everyone in the Burg.”

  “I know you both take classes there. Did you ever hear anything that would make you suspicious? Was Lucca ever especially friendly with anyone who might be interested in the keys?”

  “Sidney DeSalle, the gym owner, is a little sketchy,” Jeanine said. “I didn’t take any of Lucca’s classes. I couldn’t keep up. He was hard-core. Bernie took some of Lucca’s classes, but Bernie hasn’t been there lately. Things got too busy at the concrete plant. He’s there now. Some sort of a breakdown.”

  We left Barbara’s house and sat in the Cayenne for a couple minutes.

  “What do you think?” I asked Ranger.

  “Barbara didn’t say much.”

  “Does that mean something?”

  “Just that she strikes me as the sort of person who would dominate a conversation. And Jeanine, not so much.”

  “Jeanine can be very chatty.”

  “Her husband works at a concrete plant?”

  “I think that might be the name of it, the Concrete Plant. It’s a family business. Bernie’s father started it, and when he retired Bernie’s brother took over. Bernie works there too, but I’m not sure what he does. Some sort of managerial thing. Word in the neighborhood is that he isn’t real bright. I don’t know if that’s true. I’ve always found him to be a nice guy. He’s not Italian, and I don’t think he was ever accepted by Jimmy and the rest of the Rosollis.”

  “Do they have kids?”

  “Adults. Living out of state.”

  “Next up, Sidney DeSalle,” Ranger said.

  “I have multiple choices for him. He has an office at Miracle Fitness, an office in a building downtown, and a house in Hamilton Township. He has three adult children. They all live out of state. He’s divorced. Ten years ago.”

  “It’s Saturday. Let’s try his house.”

  “It’s north of town, toward Pennington. And I hate to say this, but I’m starving. I need lunch. Go back to my parents’ house, and I’ll get some fast food.”

  I called my mom and asked her to pack us lunch. When we pulled to the curb five minutes later, she was at the door with a grocery bag. I ran up and got the bag from her. Her eyes were red as if she’d been crying, and she looked exhausted.

  “You need to iron,” I told her. “Everything is going to be fine.”

  Back in the car, Ranger glanced at the bag as we drove away. “I have a feeling this is going to be good.”

  I pulled o
ut two pot roast sandwiches and handed one to Ranger. The sandwiches were made on perfectly sliced bakery rye bread. They had the perfect amount of mustard, a dab of horseradish, a crisp romaine lettuce leaf, a thin slice of onion and tomato, and a couple slices of my mom’s amazing pot roast. They were each cut in half to form triangles. On my best day I couldn’t make a sandwich that would come even close to these masterpieces of deliciousness. She’d also packed a couple bottles of water. A cookie tin was at the bottom of the bag. I choked up when I saw the cookie tin, because I knew Grandma had made the cookies to make the house smell happy. I took a breath and swallowed back the emotion. No negative thoughts, I told myself. Everyone has to believe that she’s okay and this will end well, and that energy will make it happen. I mentally repeated the thought until I convinced myself it was true.

  We ate while Ranger drove. DeSalle lived about a half hour from the gym if traffic cooperated. At midday Saturday there was almost no traffic at all. I was working on the cookies when Ranger cruised into an area of obvious wealth.

  DeSalle’s house was one of the largest on a street of very large houses. It sat on about an acre of land. A small metal sign was attached to the elaborate mailbox at the entrance to the driveway. PROTECTED BY RANGEMAN.

  “It doesn’t get any better than this,” Ranger said.

  He called his control room and asked them to check if the alarm system was on. The answer came back yes.

  “Does he have video?” Ranger asked.

  “Yes. Inside and out.”

  “Check the video to see if anyone is in the house.”

  After several minutes the control room came back on. “We can’t pick up anyone in the house. Twenty minutes ago, a single male got into a car and drove away. This was the same time the alarm was set.”

  “Turn the alarm off and shut the cameras down,” Ranger said. “And go back over video starting at eight o’clock this morning. I want to know who was in the house.”

  “Lucky us,” Ranger said to me.

  He parked in the garage area, where his SUV wouldn’t be visible from the road. He unlocked the side door and announced himself as Rangeman Security. No one answered.