14 Fearless Fourteen (22 page)

Do you have any idea what it's like for a sixty-one-year-old
woman in show business? The only parts you can get are witches and
grandmothers.“ ”What about the stage show?“ ”The stage show sucks.
I'm playing Trenton, for crying out loud! All the men in the act
are gay and all the women are forty years younger than me. Okay, I
know I don't look my age, but I'm busting my ass on maintenance. I
don't know how much longer I can keep this up before I need more
work.“ ”What kind of work?“ ”All kinds of work. My facelift is
eight years old. I've got two years, tops, and then the warranty
runs out. The implants are shifting in my breasts, and these young
guys I'm fucking are killing me. I'm going to need a vagina
transplant.“ ”Maybe you should consider a man more your own age.“
”Have you ever seen a man my age naked? It's frightening. It's like
everything has stretched. And then you do the deed with him and
it's like fucking Rubberman. And halfway through, you're wondering
what the heck that noise is and you realize he's fallen asleep and
he's snoring. You have to have football playing on television to
keep him awake.“ ”Sometimes Joe watches football after.“ ”Joe. Is
that the Italian Stallion who turned the hose on me?“ ”Yep.“ ”No
offense, but I wouldn't mind doing him.“ ”No offense taken. Almost
everyone wants to do him.“ I looked down at my shirt. The gravy was
congealing. ”I need to get home and change my shirt.“ ”Well, there
you have it from Stephanie Plum,“ Brenda said to the camera. ”It
looks like the money is still up for grabs, folks.“ I hurried to my
car, rammed myself behind the wheel, and motored off. Depressing
news about sixty-one-year-old men. Probably it didn't apply to
Morelli and Ranger. I called Lula when I was half a block away.
”Don't let anyone shoot vegetables at me,“ I told her. ”I'm about
to park in front of the house.“ ”Copy,“ Lula said. ”Cease all
operations,“ she yelled out. This wasn't a desirable sign. I was
hoping Lula would confiscate weapons, but it sounded like she'd
signed on to Star Fleet. ”Where's my chicken?“ Lula wanted to know,
opening the door to me. ”I don't see no bags or buckets. All I see
is you wearing dinner.“ ”It's complicated,“ I said. ”I bet. Is that
my mashed potatoes in your hair?“ ”I never got that far. I was in
line and there was a riot.“ ”Yeah, but after the riot you should
have tried the drive-through.“ Mooner was holding his position at
the front window. ”He hasn't shot anyone, has he?“ I asked Lula.
”Since you been gone? He lobbed a tomato at an old guy with a
shovel. Got him in the head and it was instant salsa. That was
about it.“ The news van pulled to the curb behind my car. ”Whoa,“
Mooner said. ”It's the news. I hate the news. It's never good.“
”I'll get rid of them,“ Lula said. ”Give me the big boy.“ Gary ran
forward and handed Lula a monster spud gun. It was made from wide
bore black pipe and had to be four feet long. Lula opened the door,
set the pipe on Mooner's shoulder, Gary dropped a honeydew melon
into the pipe, rammed it down, and sprayed it. ”Fire in the hole,“
Lula yelled, and turned the ignitor knob. POW! The melon exploded
out of the pipe, Lula and Mooner were knocked off their feet, and
the melon sailed over the news truck like a cannonball and took the
top off a flowering crabapple tree on the other side of the street.
”Did I hit the target?“ Lula asked. ”No, but you scared the crap
out of them. They're already in the next county.“ ”I need a sight,“
Lula said to Mooner. ”All us expert marksmen have sights.“ ”It
would be awesome if we had monkey shit,“ Mooner said. ”Forget the
monkey shit,“ Lula told him. ”I'm not getting you no monkey
shit.

I hate monkeys.“ ”This isn't a good idea,“ I said. ”Someone's
going to get hurt with this stuff. I want it all put away. Put it
in the cellar.“ ”Mooch and some other guy are in the cellar
digging,“ Lula said. ”Zook accidentally beaned Mooch with a
half-baked when he saw him in the yard, and we might not want to
get too close to Mooch until he calms down.“ ”Then put the spud
guns someplace else. Just stop using them.“ ”Yeah,“ Lula said, ”but
what if we see people trespassing? Morelli's paying these men good
money to protect his property. You wouldn't want them to be
derelict in their duties.“ My eye was twitching like mad. I put my
finger to it and looked at Lula out of the other eye. ”I'm going to
take a shower. Use some common sense.“ ”Sure, I got lots of common
sense,“ Lula said. ”You can count on me.“ I threw my clothes into
the laundry basket in Morelli's room, wrapped myself in his robe,
and ran across the hall to the bathroom to take a shower. When I
came back to the bedroom with clean hair and body, I found Bob
eating my clothes. Couldn't blame him. They smelled like fried
chicken and gravy. I wrestled what was left of the clothes away
from Bob and assessed the damage. T-shirt half there. Jeans had
chunks missing. Socks and underwear, gone. Not the first time Bob
had eaten my underwear, so I knew the drill. Bob would be spending
a lot of time in the backyard tomorrow, letting nature take its
course. I got dressed and blasted my hair with the hair dryer. I
took a close look at myself in the mirror. The blue was fading. I
was now a ghoulish shade of pale. I went back to the bedroom and
dialed Morelli. ”Yep,“ Morelli said. ”Have you got a minute to
talk?“ ”Thirty seconds, tops. This is a royal mess. Two kids dead.
A shooter who is related to a councilman. Two more at large. And
the neighborhood is in a state of siege. What's up?“ ”You have
three lunatics guarding your house, there are a bunch of fortune
hunters creeping around your yard, someone sent you Loretta's pinky
toe, and Bob ate my underpants.“ ”Lucky Bob.“ ”I put the toe in
your freezer.“ ”Shit,“ Morelli said. ”I'm out of Rolaids. Are you
sure it was a toe?“ ”Either that or a giant garbonzo bean with a
toenail.“ ”I'll be home as soon as I can, but it will probably be
late tonight.“ ”Should I report the toe to someone?“ I asked him.
”I'll tell Spanner about it. I'm sure it's all related. Gotta go.“
I flopped onto the bed and covered my eyes with my hands. The day
was grinding on, and I wasn't making any progress. Loretta was
suffering somewhere, and I couldn't get to her. Let's list all this
out, I thought. What do I know about the fourth partner? I know
he's single. I know what his shoes look like. I might remember his
voice. That's it. That's all I know. No it isn't, I thought. I know
more. None of it good. I know he robbed a bank and let his partner
take the fall. I know he killed one or more of his partners and
blew up a house. I know he has Loretta and is capable of doing most
anything to her. I know for sure that he wants the nine million
real bad. And either he thinks Morelli has already found the money,
or he's decided his best shot is to force Morelli to find it for
him. What else do I know? I know Dom is still in the neighborhood.
I carted my half-eaten clothes downstairs and tossed them into the
garbage. I ate a bowl of cereal and a banana, and I went into the
living room. Zook, Mooner, and Gary were back to the world of
Minionfire. The spud guns were lined up along the wall. Lula was on
the phone. ”What do you mean he don't want to talk to me? Of course
he wants to talk to me. I'm his honey. We're engaged to get
married.

Did you tell him it was Lula?“ She listened for a minute,
tapping her toe, looking really pissed off. ”You're a big fibber.
I've got a mind to come over there and hit you alongside the head.
How'd you like that, you little pissant?“ I gave Lula raised
eyebrows. ”Hunh,“ Lula said. ”He hung up on me.“ ”You called him a
pissant.“ ”I just learned that word yesterday. It was on one of
them game shows. I bet he don't even know what it means.“ ”Who were
you talking to?“ ”Some guy at Rangeman. Hal or Cal or something.“
My cell phone rang. ”Babe,“ Ranger said. ”Do something with her.“
And he disconnected. I called Ranger back. ”No,“ I said. ”And I
need information on Jelly Kantner.

His apartment got blown up, and I need to find him.“ ”And I
should do this why?“ ”Because you like me.“ There was a full beat
of silence. ”I do,“ Ranger said. ”I like you a lot.

Sometimes I'm not sure why. Give me a couple minutes.“ I slid my
phone into my pocket and waited. Five minutes went by and finally
Ranger called. ”What do you mean you're not sure why you like me?“
I asked him. ”Liking you doesn't seem to be getting me where I want
to go.“ ”Maybe you need to change the destination.“ ”Maybe,“ Ranger
said. ”But not today. I have a personal information report for you
on Jelly Kantner, also known as Jay Kantner.“ ”E-mail Kantner's
report to Morelli.“ ”Ten-four.“ I moved to Morelli's office and
waited for the e-mail to come in. I printed the report and sat in
his chair to read it. Kantner's parents were deceased. He had a
sister living in the Burg. She was married with two kids. Kantner
had no derogatory information. His credit was good. He'd worked as
a maintenance specialist for J. B. Management Associates for ten
years. Probably didn't make a lot of money but his work history was
solid. He'd never married. I called the sister's number and asked
for Jelly ”Jelly,“ she shouted. ”It's a girl\“ ”Hello?“ Jelly said.
”Hey, it's Stephanie Plum.“ ”Oh no!“ ”Don't hang up. I just want to
talk to you.“ ”Okay,“ Jelly said. Tentative. Not sure if it was a
smart thing. ”I'm trying to find Dom,“ I told him. ”I don't know
where he is. He got my apartment blown up. And I haven't seen him
since.“ ”You're friends. You must have some idea where he went.“
”We were friends. In the past. No more. Not ever again. He took off
as soon as I didn't have an apartment. He never even said thank you
or gee, I'm sorry.

All he thinks about is himself. He used to be fun, but now he's
crazy. All he ever talked about was the money and how he hates
Morelli. He blames Morelli for everything. He said Morelli swindled
him out of his house and his future. He never said, but I figured
the money had to be in that house somewhere. He was obsessed with
the stupid house.“ ”Did he have a map or directions that led to the
money?“ ”No. He said it was in his head.“ ”What about Victor or
Benny? He used to hang with them. Would they take him in?“ ”Are you
kidding? Those guys are locked down. Their wives would kick their
asses if they had anything to do with Dom.“ ”Relatives?“ I asked
him. ”Maybe. He's related to half the Burg. He used to be close to
his cousin Bugger, but I don't know about now.“ ”Bugger Baronni?“
”Yeah, there's only one Bugger.“ Thank heavens for that. CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN I LEFT Mooner, Zook, and Gary home alone with detailed
instructions. They were to wash my car. They were to stay close to
Morelli's house. They were not allowed to shoot anything. They were
to stay away from Mooch. We were in Lula's Firebird, and Lula was
in a mood. ”First off, I never got no chicken. And now I'm driving
you to check out some guy named Bugger. I don't even want to know
how he got that name.“ ”Sixth grade,“ I said. ”On a class trip to a
petting zoo.“ ”What's he doing now?“ ”He's a lawyer.“ ”Figures,“
Lula said. Bugger lived a little north of Trenton, in an affluent
neighborhood close to the river. He specialized in messy divorce
cases, and the word on him was that everyone took it up the ass
when he got involved. Literally and figuratively. I thought chances
were slim that Dom was here, but no stone unturned. Bugger was a
relative and sometimes that meant something. As would the
possibility of getting cut in on nine million dollars. There was no
Mrs. Bugger. No Mr. Bugger, either. Just Bugger and a big dog named
Lover. Lula drove by the house and gave a low whistle. ”This guy
does okay.“ The house was a redbrick colonial that looked like
about ten thousand square feet under roof. It was on a large
landscaped lot with a gated drive. Much of the house and yard was
obscured by a privacy hedge. The house was impressive but felt
excessively large for one person. I guess you have a big house like
that, you get used to living in it, but all I could think of was
keeping toilet paper in all those bathrooms. ”What's this guy look
like?“ Lula wanted to know. ”I only met him once when I was at a
party years ago, but I remember him as a slim Dom.“ If my life
wasn't so complicated, I'd stake out the house. It was as good a
place as any for Dom to hide. He'd be relatively safe behind the
gates. Bugger obviously had guest rooms and probably had a couple
cars. Plus, Bugger had no scruples and loved money. It was a match
made in heaven. ”I don't suppose you'd want to do a stakeout for
me?“ I asked Lula. ”Don't suppose I would,“ Lula said. ”Who you
want to stake out?“ ”Bugger.“ Lula looked up and down the street.
”How are you gonna do a stakeout here?

Everyone parks their car in their garage. I don't even see any
cars in driveways. We're sitting here looking like we're planning a
robbery.“ She was right. A car parked at the side of the road was
painfully obvious. I had my hand on the door handle. ”I'm going to
sneak around in the bushes and look in some windows. You can circle
the block and pick me up when I'm done.“ ”Better you than me,“ Lula
said. ”This is one of them snooty neighborhoods, and they probably
got all kinds of dogs and alarms and shit like that.“ ”I've heard
rumors about Bugger's dog, and as long as I don't bend over, I
think I'll be okay.“ I was out of the car and about to cross the
street when the gates to Bugger's driveway swung open. A silver
Lexus rolled from behind the hedge, through the open gate, and
turned left. Only one person in the car. Dom. We locked eyes, and
Dom floored it. I ran around and jumped into the Firebird. ”Catch
him!“ He had a good head start, but in his panic he turned down a
cul-de-sac. Lula angled her car across the road and blocked his
exit. He swerved coming at us, jumped the curb, and took out about
five thousand dollars' worth of hedge. The house behind it looked
like pictures I've seen of Versailles. The Lexus stalled in the
hedge, and Dom wrenched the door open and took off for the faux
chateau. I ran flat-out after him and tackled him halfway to the
house. He was heavier and stronger than I was, but I was willing to
fight dirty. I brought my knee up and rearranged his private parts
so that they were halfway into his intestines. Dom grabbed himself
and went into a fetal position. He was sweating and gasping for
air, and for a moment I was afraid he might throw up. I removed a
gun from him and stood. ”You're out on parole,“ I told him. ”You're
not allowed to carry a gun.“ He sort of nodded. Still trying to get
it together. ”Be a shame to have to shoot you with your own gun,“ I
said. ”So I want you to move nice and slow and not get me excited.“
Another nod. ”You need to listen carefully, because this is
serious,“ I said. ”Your fourth partner has Loretta.“ ”I know. I'm
trying to help her,“ Dom said, ”but I can't get to the money. If I
let Morelli in on it, he'll turn the money back to the bank, and
I'm afraid Loretta will be killed, just like Allen.“ ”And Stanley
Zero.“ Dom locked eyes with me. ”What do you mean?“ ”Someone put a
bullet in Zero. I found him earlier today.“ ”Do you know who did
it?“ I shook my head. ”No. But I'm thinking your fourth partner.“
”Bastard,“ Dom said. ”I never felt good about him.“ ”I need a
name.“ Dom was on his feet, still holding himself and a little
stooped over, but starting to get color back in his face. ”I don't
have a name,“ he said. ”He was the inside guy. I never even saw
him.