Plum Lucky (Stephanie Plum 13.50) - Page 9

“Just what the world needs,” Briggs said. “One more big fat celebrity.”

Lula narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you just say I was fat? Is that what I just heard? Because my ears better be wrong, or I’ll grind you into midget dust.”

“Little person,” Briggs said. “I’m a little person.”

“Hunh,” Lula said. “If it was me, I’d rather be a midget. It’s got a good sound to it. “Little person’ sounds like you should be in kindergarten.”

Briggs was hands on hips, leaning forward. “How’d you like a punch in the nose?”

Lula looked down at him. “How’d you like my thumb in your eye?”

“I didn’t know you had experience modeling lingerie,” Grandma said to Lula.

“Not modeling, exactly. I got more general experience. When I was a ‘ho, I was famous for accessorizing with lingerie. Everybody knew if you wanted a ‘ho in nice undies, you go to Lula’s corner. And another thing, I’m always reading them fashion magazines. I know how to stand. And I got a beautiful smile.”

Lula smiled for us.

Grandma squinted at Lula. “Look at that. You got a gold tooth in the front. It’s all sparkly under the lights. I never noticed before.”

“I got it last week,” Lula said. “It’s got a diamond chip in it. That’s what makes it sparkle.”

“So if the modeling doesn’t work out, you could be a pirate,” Briggs said.

“It’s for when I sing with Sally Sweet and his band,” Lula said. “We changed our focus to rap. Sally’s breakin’ new ground. He’s like the premier drag rapper.”

Sally Sweet drives a school bus in Trenton during the day and does bar gigs on weekends. He looks like Howard Stern, and he dresses like Madonna. I had a mental picture of Sally rapping in drag, and it wasn’t pretty.

“How are you doing at the video poker?” Lula asked Grandma.

“I’m not doing so good,” Grandma said. “Maybe I just got to get warmed up.”

“That’s the way it works,” Lula said. “First you got bad luck, and then you got the good luck.”

My cell phone buzzed in my pocket. It was my mother.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“I’m at Daffy’s in Atlantic City.”

“Did you find your grandmother?”

“Yes. She’s playing the slots.”

“Do not leave her side. And do not put her on the bus to come home. God knows where she could end up.”

“Right,” I said to my mother. “No bus.”

“Call me when you get on the road so I know when to expect you and your grandmother.”

“Sure.”

I disconnected and looked at Grandma hunched on her seat, back to punching the play button, and wondered if it was a felony if you kidnapped your own grandmother. I suspected it would be the only way I’d get her to go home.

“I’m going shopping,” Lula said. “I gotta look good tomorrow morning for my supermodel debut. And I know this is plus-?size lingerie, but maybe I should go to the gym and try to lose ten or fifteen pounds. I bet I could do it if I put my mind to it.”

I looked past Lula and locked eyes with the little man in the green pants. He was openly staring, watching us from the other side of the casino floor. I crooked my finger at him in a come here gesture, and he sidestepped behind a row of slots and disappeared. I took off across the room, but couldn’t find him.

Lula was gone when I got back. Briggs was asleep on top of the duffel bag. And Grandma was staring at the poker machine.

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