To the Nines (Stephanie Plum 9) - Page 79

“About Cal...” I said. “He's sort of out of commission.”

“Used to be you destroyed my cars,” Ranger said.

“Yeah, those were the good old days.”

“How bad is it?”

“Valerie's water sort of broke on him and he fainted. Bounced his head on the floor a couple times when he went down. Lucky, he was in the hospital when it happened. He was looking a little dopey, so they took him somewhere for testing.”

“St. Francis?”

“Yep.”

Disconnect.

I was making a shambles of the Merry Men. I suspected Tank was somewhere in the hospital, too. I'd stop in to say hello, but I only knew him as Tank. Probably Tank wasn't the name listed on the chart.

Morelli called while I was still outside. “So?”

“I'm at the hospital with Valerie,” I told him. “It's been pretty uneventful except for the birth and the concussion.”

“What, no fires or explosions? No shoot-?outs?”

“Like I said, it's been quiet, but it's still early.”

“I hate to ruin my tough-?guy image, but to tell you the truth, I don't even like to kid about this stuff anymore.”

I didn't know how to tell him ... I wasn't kidding. “I should get back to Valerie,” I said.

“Television sucks tonight. Maybe I'll come over to the hospital.”

“That would be nice.”

The sky was overcast and a fine mist was settling around me. Streetlights popped on in the gloom. A block away, headlights glowed golden on cars cruising Hamilton. I'd exited the emergency entrance on Bert Avenue to make the call. I'd walked toward the back of the building, going just far enough to avoid activity. I had my back pressed to the brick wall of the hospital while I talked, trying to stay dry, trying to keep my hair from frizzing. Used to be there were houses across the street, but several years ago the houses were torn down and a parking lot was created.

A kid walked out of emergency and turned toward me, moving with his head down against the light rain, hugging a small gym bag to his chest. From the brief look I'd caught of his face I'd put him somewhere in his late teens to early twenties. Not really a kid, I guess, but he dressed like a kid. Low-?slung baggy homeboy pants, gym shoes, short-?sleeved shirt unbuttoned over a black T-?shirt, spikey green hair. Probably had multiple piercings and tattoos, but I couldn't see any from this distance.

I dropped my phone into my purse and headed back to emergency. The green-?haired kid got a couple feet from me and staggered a little, bumping against me. He picked his head up, looked me in the eye, and raised a gun level with my nose.

“Turn and walk,” he said, “I'm really good with this gun. I'll shoot you dead if you make a single false move.”

Usually there were people hanging out around emergency, but the rain had driven everyone inside. The street was deserted. Not even car traffic. “Is this about money?” I asked him. “Just take my bag.”

“Hah, you wish, sweetie pie. This is The Game and I'm the winner. Just me and the Web Master left. I get to go on to the next game after I do you.”

I turned and gaped at him.

“What?” he asked. “You didn't know it was me? You didn't think the hunter had green hair?”

“Who are you?”

He jumped and slashed at the air. “I'm the Fisher Cat.”

I'd never heard of a fisher cat. I was pretty sure we didn't have any in Trenton. “Is that a real animal or did you make it up?”

“It's a member of the weasel family. It moves along real quiet. You hardly know it's around. It's real sneaky. And it's ferocious.”

“Have you ever seen one?”

Tags: Janet Evanovich Stephanie Plum Mystery
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