Twisted Twenty-Six

by Janet Evanovich

  “It’s got a quick start-and-stop trigger,” he said.

  He pressed the trigger, and a huge blue flame shot out of the torch.

  “Yeah,” he said. “This is what I’m talking about. You could do a good burn with this baby.”

  I still had my arm around Grandma, and I felt her shudder.

  Salgusta set the Bernzomatic on the table and went back to the little silver torch. He inserted a slim silver canister into the tool and pressed a tiny switch. Nothing happened. He removed the canister and shook it next to his ear. He reinserted it and tried again. Nothing.

  “Empty,” he said.

  “You got a spare, right?” Shine said.

  Salgusta pawed through the suitcase. “Doesn’t look like it. I haven’t had any use for this lately. Nobody wants burn jobs anymore.”

  “So, bypass the signature and go for the money,” Shine said.

  “No. That would be all wrong. I have a system. That would ruin everything. I just have to get a cartridge. Where’s the nearest Home Depot?”

  “I’m not going to no Home Depot,” Shine said. “Can’t you burn your initials into them with a match or a Bic?”

  “Maybe,” Shine said. “Do you have any matches?”

  “No. I had to give up smoking. I got emphysema. Once in a while I have a cigar.” He felt his pockets. “I don’t have any matches. Don’t you have matches? You’re the burn guy.”

  “I don’t usually burn with matches. It’s not like I’m a pyromaniac. I’m an intelligence-gathering specialist.”

  “Okay, so you got a Bic?”

  “No. I don’t have a Bic. I have a Bernzomatic, and I’m not using it until I’ve autographed my victims.”

  “Okay, fine. Go to Home Depot. Take my car. I’ll stay here and get the women stripped down.”

  “That won’t work,” Salgusta said. “I need someone to drive. I lost my license from when I ran into the school bus. Anyway, these women aren’t going anywhere. We can leave them alone for a half hour.”

  “This better not drag on,” Shine said. “I got a one o’clock appointment for a blood draw.”

  “You got a cholesterol problem?”

  “Yeah, but I’m on meds for that. This is prediabetes.”

  “They’re gonna tell you to lay off the grape.”

  “I’m already off the grape. I switched to vodka. It’s potatoes. Vegetables are good for you.”

  Bernie had left the key in the door. They took the key, closed the door, and locked it.

  “I’m going to get us out of here,” I whispered to Grandma. I heard their car engine turn over, and I strained to hear them drive away.

  “How are you going to do this?” Grandma asked.

  “Shine dragged Bernie to this side of the room. I think I might be able to reach him. He’s got the padlock key in his pocket.”

  I walked the chain out, but I was short. I lay flat on the floor and grabbed Bernie’s foot. I pulled him a couple feet closer, was able to get to my knees, and pulled him far enough to reach into his pocket. I found the key and scrambled away from the body. I ran to the bathroom and discovered the key didn’t unlock that padlock. I tried it on my ankle padlock and had success.

  “Hang on,” I said to Grandma. “There’s another key.”

  I went back to Bernie and searched his pockets again. Sure enough, a second key. I unlocked the bathroom padlock and Grandma was set free, but she still had the chain attached to her handcuffs.

  “I didn’t feel another key in any of his pockets,” I said. “And I don’t want to take any more time to look. Just hang on to the chain for now.”

  I grabbed the Bernzomatic that was sitting on the table and ran to the door. It was locked on the outside but not on the inside. I opened the door, looked out, and didn’t see a car or a truck. Shine and Salgusta were gone. Bernie must have parked someplace else. The recycling container was still there.

  The storeroom faced the back of the garage that housed the concrete trucks. I led Grandma around the garage and was about to cross a parking area when I saw a car coming at us.

  “It’s them,” Grandma said. “They must have forgot something.”

  I pulled Grandma into the garage through an open door and hoped we hadn’t been spotted. There were seven massive concrete mixer trucks parked inside. They were all red and yellow with the Concrete Plant logo on the mixing drum. I climbed up on the cab of the third truck and looked in the window. Keys were in the ignition.

  “This is it,” I said to Grandma.

  I ran around and opened the passenger’s side door for her. She got her foot on the high step and couldn’t get any further.

  “Alley-oop!” I said, shoving her up with my hand on her butt, sending Grandma sprawling across the seat.

  I slammed the door closed, ran around, jumped behind the wheel, and turned the key. The truck rumbled to life just as Shine and Salgusta appeared in the open doorway. I was desperately trying to find a garage door opener when Shine reached the truck and wrenched the driver’s side door open. I grabbed the Bernzomatic and pulled the trigger. A massive flame shot out. Shine screamed and fell back. I pulled the door closed, put the truck in gear, floored the gas pedal, and crashed through the bay door. I careened to a stop in the parking area and put my hand to my heart. It was beating at stroke level.

  “Holy shit pickles,” Grandma said.

  I didn’t take the time to look for Shine or Salgusta. I drove the truck out of the parking lot, through the Concrete Plant complex, and onto the service road. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but after after what seemed like a lifetime of blind panic driving, I saw the turnoff to Route One. I headed for the ramp and took out a highway sign. I was so frazzled I didn’t know if I was going to or away from Trenton. I just knew I was on the highway.

  “D-d-do you know where we’re going?” I asked Grandma.

  “We’re heading for Trenton,” she said. “You’re doing good, but you might want to slow down a tad.”

  I checked the speedometer and saw that I was doing eighty. Pretty good for a concrete truck, I thought. Cars were moving out of my way. Not wanting to compete with the huge yellow and red behemoth that was rocketing up their ass.

  A cop car passed me, and then another. I had two in front of me and one on the side. I looked in my rearview mirror. Three more cop cars. All with their lights flashing. I took this as a good sign. Even if I got a speeding ticket, it was still good.

  I stopped the truck in the middle of the road and a Rangeman SUV immediately slid up beside me. Ranger jumped out, ran up to the truck, and pulled me out. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close, and I realized I was crying.

  “Babe,” he said. “Who knew you could drive a concrete truck?”

  “Omigod,” I said, wiping tears away. “This was a nightmare. How did you find me?”

  “Surveillance cameras, and then I followed the trail of metallic blue extensions.”

  “I’ve got Grandma with me.”

  “Tank is with her. Do we need to have an EMT check her out?”

  “No. She’s okay. We were able to escape before the bad things started to happen.”

  “Morelli is dealing with Stupe. I’m supposed to take you and Grandma home. You can give a statement when you’re up to it.”

  “Do the police have Charlie Shine and Lou Salgusta in custody?”

  “Not that I know. Stupe was on the floor, dead, when I got there with Morelli. The chopper spotted you in the concrete truck. Charlie Shine and Lou Salgusta weren’t on the scene.”

  I leaned into Ranger. He was warm and comforting. I always felt safe when I was with him. “Has someone told my mom that Grandma is okay?”

  “I’ll get a phone to Grandma. She can make the call.”

  He whistled to Tank and told him to give his phone to Grandma.

&
nbsp; “Where do you want to go?” Ranger asked. “Do you want to go home or to your parents’ house?”

  “Home. I miss Rex.”

  Ranger commandeered the Rangeman SUV and wove around the cop cars that were clustered around the concrete truck. At least three miles of congestion was behind the cop cars. I called Morelli and told him Shine and Salgusta were responsible for Stupe and for kidnapping Grandma and me. I was hoping they were stuck in the three miles of stopped traffic.

  We didn’t talk on the ride home. I was too numb for conversation. Ranger maneuvered me out of the SUV, into my building, and into my apartment. I looked in at Rex and felt better. Everyone in my family was okay.

  “Are you hungry?” Ranger said. “I can make you an omelet.”

  I managed a smile at that. “I hate to pass it up, but I’m exhausted.”

  He looked in my fridge and my freezer. “Ice cream?”

  “Yes. Ice cream would be amazing.”

  We sat side by side on the couch and ate ice cream.

  “It’s a shame you don’t want to get married,” I said to Ranger. “You’re actually reasonably domesticated.”

  “Babe,” Ranger said. “Are you going to propose?”

  “Not at this moment, but I’m thinking about it.”

  “Would you like me to stay here tonight?”

  “It would be a waste. I can barely keep my eyes open. I’m going to go to bed and sleep for days.”

  “I might not care.”

  I punched him in the arm, and he got up and walked to the door.

  “Call if you need me,” he said.

  I fell asleep on the couch, and Morelli woke me up at six o’clock. He had Bob with him and a bag of food from Pino’s. Meatball sandwiches, fries, coleslaw, and ricotta cake. He clicked the news on, and we ate in front of the television.

  “Did you catch Shine and Salgusta?” I asked.

  “No. They’re in the wind, but it’s only a matter of time.”

  “Ranger said he found me by following a trail of metallic blue extensions.”

  “I called when I finally got home from work last night, but you didn’t answer. When I called this morning and you still didn’t answer I got worried, so I came here and found your door unlocked and the television on. I got in touch with Ranger, and he was able to access the security camera at the back of this building. He ran the video back and saw Stupe dragging a recycling bin out and wrangling it into a panel truck that belonged to the Concrete Plant. We went to the Concrete Plant and wandered around, finally finding the blue bin with your extensions all over it. The door to the storage building was open and Stupe was inside. We saw the cot and the food bags and all of Salgusta’s equipment. And I have to tell you my heart stopped for a full two minutes, and Ranger went pale. We were inside the building when one of Ranger’s men came to tell us about the garage door and empty bay. We must have missed you by seconds. The chopper was already in the air doing a traffic report. He spotted the concrete truck, we scrambled every patrol car in the area, and Ranger took off. One of the patrol cars said they clocked him at 110 miles per hour on Route One.”

  “Stupe was trying to extort money from the La-Z-Boys. He killed Lucca and Julius Roman.”

  “And then Shine and Salgusta killed Stupe.”

  “Yep. And eventually they would have killed me, but they had to go to Home Depot, and I was able to get away.”

  “They had all their torture tools out, and they decided to go to Home Depot?”

  “Ran out of gas for the torch.”

  “God’s will,” Morelli said.

  “Yeah, better to be lucky than good.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  EARLY MONDAY MORNING I woke up happy to be alive and without a man’s initials burned into my hoo-ha. It was now three o’clock, and I was still feeling happy. I was wearing my new blue silk shirtwaist dress to the lawyer’s office. Grandma was wearing a magenta tracksuit. Her lipstick matched her tracksuit and her red hair was spiked up with Sumoclay. She looked even happier than I did. And I suspected her outfit was a stiff middle finger to intimidation of any kind.

  Jimmy’s lawyer, Ziggy Weinberger, was in a midrise office building in center city. When Grandma and I arrived at one o’clock, the small conference room was already packed with people: Jimmy’s sisters, Barbara, Benny the Skootch’s two wiseguys in training, a man and woman I didn’t know, and empty chairs for Charlie Shine and Lou Salgusta.

  When Grandma and I took our seats, Ziggy leaned forward in his chair at the head of the table. “I don’t think we need to wait for Charlie and Lou,” he said. “They’re probably in Argentina. So, let’s get started. Jimmy had a will drawn up several years ago. It addressed the possibility of another marriage, and in the event of that marriage, all of Jimmy’s assets would go to his wife.”

  “That will is invalid due to senility,” Barbara said. “I fully intend to contest it.”

  Angie jumped out of her chair and waved her bandaged hand at Grandma. “Whore woman!”

  “Ladies,” Ziggy said. “A little decorum, please.”

  Angie sat down, and Ziggy continued.

  “Everyone should have a file folder,” he said. “There are documents in your folders that give an accounting of Jimmy’s assets at the time of death.”

  I paged through my documents, got to the bottom-line figure, and raised my hand.

  “I’m not seeing any assets,” I said.

  “That’s correct,” Ziggy said. “He had an insurance policy to cover burial, but aside from that, he was broke. He spent the last of his money on his vacation.”

  “He was a successful professional,” Barbara said. “How could he be broke?”

  “He didn’t get much work in his later years,” Ziggy said, “but he kept spending money.”

  “What about his condo?”

  “It isn’t a condo,” Ziggy said. “It’s an apartment. And the Mole Hole was jointly owned. Jimmy’s share goes to the remaining partners.”

  “Good thing I waited to book Antarctica,” Grandma said.

  “I don’t believe any of this,” Barbara said. “What about the keys?”

  “There are no keys,” Ziggy said.

  “Of course there are keys,” Barbara said. “Edna has them. We all know he gave them to Edna. And those keys are worth a fortune.”

  Grandma rolled her eyes. “What a bean brain,” she said.

  “Is that it?” Angie asked Ziggy.

  “Yes,” Ziggy said.

  “We came downtown for nothing?”

  “Yes,” Ziggy said.

  Everyone quietly filed out of the conference room. No one said anything. We all stood in front of the elevator, the doors opened, and everyone shuffled in.

  “We’ll take the next one,” I said, stepping back.

  “Good thinking,” Grandma said when the elevator doors closed in front of us.

  * * *

  —

  My mother was ironing when I brought Grandma home.

  “We’re okay,” I said. “You don’t need to iron.”

  “This is just ordinary laundry-day ironing,” she said. “I heard about Jimmy’s will. I started getting phone calls ten minutes after you walked out of Ziggy’s office. Who would have thought Jimmy didn’t have money?”

  “My Galapagos trip is canceled,” Grandma said, “but I’m still going to Gatlinburg.”

  “Are you staying for dinner?” my mom asked me.

  “No. I think I’ll see what Morelli is doing. I’m all dressed up, and I feel like going out to a fancy restaurant.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Grandma went to answer it. I followed after her just in case it was Lou Salgusta with a blowtorch.

  “It’s Benny’s young men,” Grandma said, looking out.

  “Mrs. Rosolli,” one of the slic
k-haired kids said, “I hope we aren’t disturbing you, but we have a delivery to make from Mr. Benny the Skootch. Mr. Benny the Skootch said this is because Ms. Plum was so nice to him and brought him a pizza with the works. And Mr. Benny the Skootch always pays back. Are we allowed to deliver the package to you?”

  “Of course,” Grandma said. “That’s very nice of him. How is he?”

  “He’s well. He’s all stented up. He might get out of the hospital tomorrow.”

  The two junior wiseguys hustled to a white van and pulled something huge out of the back door. It was wrapped in moving blankets and secured with bungee cords. They carried it into the house, Grandma and I stepped back, and they set it down in the living room.

  “This really wasn’t necessary,” Grandma said. “What is it?”

  “Mr. Benny the Skootch had a special close relationship with the late Jimmy,” the kid said. “He thought highly of him, and he wanted you to have this memento.”

  They released the bungee cords and pulled the wraps off and stood back, overwhelmed with the occasion.

  It was Jimmy’s La-Z-Boy.

  Grandma and I were speechless. It was a lovely gesture, but it was horrible. The brown leather was scared and stained. The chair smelled like cigars and whiskey, and it had the clear imprint of Jimmy’s behind on the seat.

  “Well,” Grandma said. “This is a . . . treasure. Please tell Mr. the Skootch that I’m very grateful.”

  The two wiseguys were all smiles. “Yes ma’am,” they said.

  They left, and Grandma closed the door after them. My mom came into the living room and gasped.

  “What is that?” she said.

  “It’s a present from Benny,” Grandma said. “It was Jimmy’s chair.”

  My mother made the sign of the cross, and I thought it was a good thing she already had the ironing board up.

  My father walked into the house. “I just pulled in and there was a white van leaving,” he said. “Did we get a delivery?”

  I hooked my thumb at the chair.

  “Whoa!” my father said. “Jeez Louise, where did that come from?”

  “It’s a gift from Benny the Skootch,” I said.