“Do I leave cosmic debris?”
“Everyone leaves it. Some people leave more than others. Wulf and I leave a lot because we‘re dense. We both carry high energy.”
“That‘s weird.”
>
“Tell me about it,” Diesel said. “You should walk in my shoes.” He crossed to the foyer, took my bag off its hook, and stuck his hand in.
“Hey!” I said. “What are you doing?”
“I want to read your case file on Munch.”
“How do you know it‘s in there?”
“I know. Just like I know you‘re wearing a pink lace thong, and you think I‘m hot.”
“How? What?” I said. “Lucky guess,” Diesel said, pulling the file out of my bag, scanning the pages.
“I do not think you‘re hot.”
“That‘s a big fib,” Diesel said.
“I can save you some time,” I told him. “There isn‘t anything in Munch‘s file. Only a grandmother.”
“Then let‘s talk to the grandmother.”
“I‘ve already talked to her.”
Diesel shoved his feet into his boots and laced up. “Let‘s talk to her again.”
I changed my shirt, and we headed out.
“Your car or mine?” I asked him when we got to the lot.
“What are you driving?”
“The Jeep that used to be red.”
“I like it,” Diesel said.
“What are you driving?”
“The hog.”
I looked over at the black Harley. No room for Carl, and it would wreck my hair. “Probably it‘s easier to follow cosmic dust when you‘re on a bike,” I said.
Diesel settled himself into the Jeep‘s passenger-?side seat and grinned at me. “You don‘t really think there‘s cosmic dust, do you?”
I plugged the key into the ignition. “Of course not. Cosmic dust would be… ridiculous.”
Diesel hooked an arm around my neck, pulled me to him, and kissed me on the top of my head. “This is going to be fun,” he said.
Stephanie Plum 14.5 - Plum Spooky
THREE
CADMOUNT IS a sleepy little town on the Delaware River a few miles north of Trenton. It looks quaintly historic—a bunch of big, white, clapboard houses with black shutters and yards shaded by oak and maple trees. Lydia Munch‘s retirement home was a sprawling single-?story redbrick structure. The architect had enhanced the entrance with a portico and four white columns in an attempt to make it look less like a retirement home. The result was that it looked a lot more like a funeral parlor.