We all looked over when the waiting-room door slid open and Lula burst in and stormed across the floor, arms waving, hair standing on end.
“What the heck happened here?” Lula shouted.
“Tank was investigating a break-in and he got shot,” I told her.
Lula turned on Ranger. She was in his face, hands on hips, eyes looking like a raging bulls. “Did you send that man out all by hisself? What the Sam Hill were you thinking? You got him shot. And I'm here telling you, he better be okay with all his parts in working order, or you're gonna answer to me. I don't fucking believe this.” She looked around, searching the room for someone who looked official. “What's happening here? I want to see the doctor. I want to get some answers. He better not be fucking dead is all I'm saying. I'm holding all you accountable.”
Ranger was showing nothing. He was in his zone, listening and thinking. Only his eyes moved and focused on Lula. She finished her tirade and Ranger redirected his attention to Morelli and me.
“Hey!” Lula yelled, back in Ranger's face. “You look at me when I'm having a breakdown. And don't you pull that mysterio silent shit on me. I don't take that bus, you see what I'm saying? You're just a little pipsqueak compared to that man you got shot. And nobody even called me. I had to hear it on the police band. What s with that? Holy shit. Holy fuck. Goddamn.”
And then it was like she was a big balloon and someone let all the air out. Lula sat down hard on the floor, eyes unfocused.
Jean Newman was the nurse working the desk. She came over and eyeballed Lula. “Looks to me like she hyperventilated,” Jean said, getting Lula on her feet. “I'll take her in the back and put a pressure cuff on her and give her some juice.”
We sat there for a moment, absorbing the silence that filled the void left by Lula.
Rangers mouth wasn't smiling much, but his eyes were flat-out laughing. “It's been a long time since I was called a pipsqueak,” he said.
Morelli grinned. “That wasn't even the best part. She called you on the mysterio silent shit. You're hanging out there naked.”
“Not the first time,” Ranger said.
“Where do we go from here?” I asked.
“Maybe not far,” Morelli said. “You told me the guy who grabbed Dickie had a broken nose and heavily bandaged finger. He might have come here to get patched. And if he did, he would leave a paper trail. Medical insurance, address, whatever. Plus, you just bounced him off your fender. If he was hurt, he'd have to go somewhere for an X-ray. If not here, Helen Fuld.”
“You are so smart,” I said to Morelli. “I guess that's why they pay you the big bucks.”
Morelli stood. “You two stay here and worry about Tank, and I'll go do my cop thing.”
He didn't have to badge Jean. She was from the neighborhood. She knew Morelli and his entire family. She knew he was a cop. And even if Morelli hadn't been a cop, she probably would have answered his questions because the Burg doesn't have a sense of secret. The Burg is gossip central. And more important, women seldom said no to Morelli… for anything.
“Do you have any idea why Dickie went to your apartment?” Ranger asked me.
“No. It's not like we're friends.”
“He was looking for something.”
“Money? A gun?”
“If I was Dickie, I'd be looking for the forty million,” Ranger said.
“I can guarantee you, I haven't got it in my apartment.”
“Still, someone broke into your apartment right after Dickie went missing. And now Dickie walked out of his safe house and went straight to your apartment. It feels like there should be a connection. Maybe Dickie was the first intruder, and maybe he wasn't looking for something. Maybe he was hiding something. And maybe he came back to get it.”
“Why would he hide something in my apartment?”
“You'd just had a confrontation. You would be on his mind. And you weren't someone anyone would think he'd go to with his treasure. You would feel safe.”
“If he hid something, wouldn't he know exactly where it was? Wouldn't he have gone directly to that spot when he broke into my apartment?”
“Maybe it was originally in plain sight, and it got moved. I don't know. I'm just thinking out loud. I'm sure there are other possibilities.”
Morelli returned with his notepad in hand. “His full name is Dave Mueller. He didn't use insurance. Paid in cash. He came in on Jean's shift for his pinkie, and she copied his address from his driver's license. According to his license, he's living in the same apartment complex where Smullen and Gorvich kept apartments.”
“I'll check it out,” Ranger said.
Morelli tore a page out of his notepad and handed it to Ranger. “This is the address. Jean called around. None of the clinics have a record for Mueller, so I'm guessing either Stephanie killed him, or else he has no broken bones or internal bleeding.”
“I almost never kill people,” I said to no one in particular.
We sat for another half hour in our own thoughts, until an aide came to find us.
“Pierre is out of surgery and awake,” she said. “You can see him now.”
I looked at Ranger. “Pierre?”
“If you want to live, you'll forget you heard that,”
Ranger said. “Tank isn't overly fond of being named Pierre.”
Lula was already in the room when we got there.
“Hows it going?” I asked her.
“I'm better now,” she said. “I just had a moment, but I had a glass of juice and a pill, and now I'm back to my old self.”
“I thought that was your old self,” I said to Lula.
“Hunh,” Lula said.
Tank had his eyes open, but there wasn't much going on behind them, and he looked like he was down a quart of blood.
“I talked to the doctor, and he said Tank's in good shape,” Lula said. “He's just still dopey from the anesthetic. He might even be able to go home tomorrow.”
Stephanie Plum 13 - Lean Mean Thirteen
“Yo,” Tank said.
“Yo,” we all answered.
“I'm gonna stay with him awhile,” Lula said. “Make sure he don't rip no tubes out chasing nurses down the hall.”
Ranger and Tank did one of those male bonding hand things, and Ranger and Morelli and I filed out of the room and into the hall.
“I'm going back to my apartment,” I said. “Maybe I can find whatever it was Dickie was looking for.”
“If you'll take over my Stephanie watch, I can visit Dave,” Ranger said to Morelli.
“Done,” Morelli said.
I felt my blood pressure raise just a tic. “Excuse me. Time out. Nice to know you're concerned about my welfare, but I'm not excited about getting passed around like luggage.”
Morelli and Ranger looked at each other.
'The ball's in your court," Ranger said to Morelli.
“I have nothing,” Morelli said.
“Terrific/' I told him. ”You have exactly one minute to come up with something. And while you're at it, you can explain this buddy-buddy routine. What happened to the rivalry, the animosity? You used to think Ranger was a nut. What about that?"
They stood hands on hips, counting down.
“It's her time of the month,” Morelli finally said.
“Dude,” Ranger said.
I huffed out of the hospital to the parking garage and realized I had no car. The Porsche was still in my lot.
Morelli was behind me, smiling. “Need a ride?”
FIFTEEN
I PLUGGED THE key into my front door lock, and Morelli drew his gun. “The apartment is monitored,” I told Morelli. “Range-Man would call if someone entered.” “Humor me,” Morelli said. "Ranger handed you over to me, remember? It'd be
embarrassing if you got kidnapped on my watch."
“Admit it. This is weird.”
"Beyond weird, but if Ranger and I draw a line in the sand that can't be crossed right now,
everyone will lose."
r />
Forty minutes later, there was nothing left to be searched. We'd covered every square inch and found nothing.
“Let's run through this one more time,” Morelli said. “Dickie s got forty million dollars stashed somewhere, and everyone but the Easter Bunny is looking for it. Dickie leaves the safe house and comes straight here and starts searching. He thinks something is here, but it looks like he doesn't know where. The conclusion we've reached is that he hid something out in the open, and it got moved.”
“Except I don't remember moving anything. And nothing seems to be missing.”
We went to the kitchen and hauled out cold cuts and bread and made sandwiches.
Morelli looked over at the small security camera in my foyer. “Sharing you with Ranger doesn't even rate high on my 'hate this' list compared to being beamed into his control room while I make a sandwich.”
“Did you report Dickie s kidnapping?”
“Yes. There's a bulletin out on him.”
My kitchen phone rang and I answered it on speaker.
“Stephanie?” the voice said. “I'm surprised you returned home.”
'Who is this?"
“I've been wanting to speak to you, but you've been very uncooperative.”
“Well, here I am. What did you want to speak to me about?”
“You have something I need. You have the key.”
“I have a bunch of keys. Which one are you interested in?”
“I'm not amused. You know which key.”
“The key to the forty million dollars?”
“Yes. Now listen closely. If you give me the key, I'll allow you to live. If you choose to be difficult, I'll make sure you have a horrific death. You've already seen some of my work. The next victim will be your ex-husband. He's served his purpose. And as you know, I like to keep things tidy.”
“How am I supposed to get the key to you?”
“I think it would be nice if you brought it in person.”
“Not going to happen,” I told him.
“Do you think I'm scary?”
“Yes.”
“You have no idea. You haven't even seen my best work.”
“Back to the key…”
“I'll think of something. Do you like surprises?”
And he hung up.
Morelli didn't look happy. “You're getting too good at this,” he said. “You've been scared and threatened so many times, you're starting to think it's normal. You were so cool with that guy. And he was insane. Genuine psychopath. And you played him.”
“Isn't that what I was supposed to do?”
“Yes, but that isn't what I want the woman I love to do. You should have freaked. You should be shaking and crying. Look at you. You're smiling.”
“I did a good job.”
Morelli pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me. “You did a great job. I'm proud of you, but I wish your life was different. I don't want you involved in this garbage.”
“He thinks I have a key.”
“We looked everywhere, and we didn't see a key.”
“A key might be easy to miss.”
“I didn't miss a key. It's not here,” Morelli said.
“Then what the heck's he talking about?”
“The more disturbing question is why would he think you have a key?”
“Dickie.”
“That's my best guess,” Morelli said. “Dickie told him you have the key.”
Morelli's hand had managed to get under my shirt and was starting to head north.
'We're on television," I said to him.
“Shit,” Morelli said, removing his hand, stepping back from me. “I forgot.”
My cell phone buzzed, and I tuned in to Grandma Mazur.
“I'm at the beauty parlor, and I'm all done,” she said. “I was hoping you could give me a ride. Your mothers car is still on the blink.”
“Sure,” I said. “I need to go to the office anyway.”
Ten minutes later, I picked Grandma up at the salon.
“I didn't expect to see Joseph,” Grandma said, getting into Morelli's SUV.
“I can't get rid of him,” I told her.
Grandma looked pretty good, considering she'd just been groundhogged. As far as I could see, she didn't have any gunk clinging to her. And her hair was newly washed and curled and had faded to apricot.
“I even got my nails done,” Grandma said. “I got them to match my hair, and I got a new lipstick too. Dolly said I couldn't wear red with my hair this color, so I got a lipstick named Orgasm. It's gotta be good with a name like that.”
Morelli almost ran up on the curb at the thought of Grandma wearing a lipstick named Orgasm.
“Are you still looking for Diggery?” Grandma wanted to know.
“Yes.”
“They buried Stanley Berg today, and I heard at the beauty parlor that he went in the ground wearing a diamond pinkie ring and a new Brooks Brothers suit that would fit Simon Diggery. And the weather is nice and mild. We're supposed to get some rain later, but I don't think a little rain would stop Diggery if he needed a new suit.”
We dropped Grandma off, then went to Morelli's house to get Bob. Morelli parked in the alley behind his house, took the key out of the ignition, and dropped it into his pocket.
“Wait here,” Morelli said. “I'll be right out.”
I gave him a raised eyebrow. “You took the key?”
“You wouldn't be here when I came out if I left the key.”
“I still might not be here.”
“Yeah, but at least I'll have my car.”
Morelli jogged to his back door, disappeared inside the house for a few seconds, and reappeared with Bob. Bob bounded out of the house, tethered to his leash, doing his happy dance. He tinkled on a small patch of dead grass, then rushed to the back of the SUV, anxious to go for a ride. Morelli loaded Bob into the car and got behind the wheel.
“Now what?” he asked.
“I was going to stop in at the office.”
“Okay,” he said, putting the SUV in gear. “To the office.”
“This is ridiculous. Are you going to stick with me all day?”
“Like stink on a monkey, Cupcake.”
Connie was putting together files when I walked in.
“I have some new guys for you,” she said. “Nothing big. Possession, domestic violence, and grand theft auto. All FTA.” She put the paperwork in a folder and handed it to me. “Hows Tank? I understand he was shot.”
“He's going to be okay. I saw him when he came out of surgery.”
“Lula flew out of here when she heard.”
“We met her at the hospital. She decided to stay with Tank for a while. Make sure he behaves himself.”
The front door banged open and Lula swung in. “They wouldn't let me stay. They said I was a disruptive influence. Do you believe that? Hell, I wasn't disrupting nothing.”
“Imagine, someone thinking you're disruptive,” Connie said.
“Yeah, they got a bunch of stick-up-their-ass nurses in that place,” Lula said. “It was okay, anyways, because they gave Tank some happy juice in his IV and he fell asleep.” She looked through the front window. “What s Morelli doing out there?”
“Waiting for me,” I said.
“Why?”
“I don't want to talk about it.”
“He's babysitting you, isn't he?” Lula said. “It's got something to do with Tank getting shot, right?”
“Do you want the long version or the short version?” I asked them.
“I want the long version,” Connie said. “I want all the details.”
“Yeah,” Lula said. “I don't want to miss nothing. I gotta feeling this is gonna be good.”
It took a little over ten minutes for me to get through the long version, mostly because Lula went on a rant that Morelli didn't tell me about Dickie.
“What do you mean he didn't tell you?” Lula said. “After all you do for him?”
“Yea
h,” Connie said. She looked over at Lula. “What do you mean?”
“I'm talking about the nasty,” Lula said.
We all thought about that for a moment.