“No. That was a flat-?out lie.”
“Get out.”
“Honey, kicking me out of your car won‘t change anything.”
I pointed stiff-?armed. “Out!”
Diesel heaved himself out of the Jeep. “Do you want me to take the monkey?”
“Yes.”
Carl hopped out of the backseat onto Diesel‘s shoulder. I suspected they‘d both be in my apartment waiting for me when I returned to night, but at least I wouldn‘t have driven them there. Sort of a hollow victory, but it was the best I could manage. I took off, and from my rearview mirror I could see Carl give me the finger.
I reached the corner and blew out a sigh. I couldn‘t do it. I couldn‘t abandon Carl. I hooked a U-?turn to retrieve the little guy, but Diesel and Carl had disappeared. Poof.
Stephanie Plum 14.5 - Plum Spooky
FOUR
FORTY MINUTES AND twelve red lights later, I rolled to a stop in front of the bail bonds office.
“You look confused,” Lula said when I pushed through the front door. “You got that what-?the-?heck-?just-?happened look to your face.”
“Remember Diesel? He‘s back.”
“I wouldn‘t be lookin‘ confused at that,” Lula said. “I‘d be lookin‘ hello, hotstuff.”
“He‘s not normal,” I said to Lula.
“Don‘t I know it. He was at the head of the line when God was handing out the good stuff. I bet he got a great big power tool, too.”
I had enough problems without dwelling on Diesel‘s power tool. I was fifty dollars short on my rent, my mother expected me for dinner, and I had a monkey.
“I‘m at a dead end with Martin Munch,” I said. “I thought I‘d go after one of the new guys.”
“I guess I could help you with that,” Lula said. “So long as I don‘t have to chase some fool all the hell over the place. I‘m wearing my Via Spigas today, and I don‘t do that shit in my Via Spigas. So I‘m voting we go clap the cuffs on the idiot with the shot-?up foot.”
“Works for me,” I said. I was wearing sneakers, but I didn‘t want to chase some fool all the hell over the place, either.
“Where‘s the monkey?” Lula asked. “You still got the monkey?”
“The monkey went with Diesel.”
“That monkey‘s a lucky duck,” Lula said. “I wouldn‘t mind going with Diesel.”
I pulled the case file out of my bag. “Denny Guzzi lives in an apartment on Laurel Street.”
“That‘s not such a good neighborhood,” Lula said. “That‘s off Stark. Probably Guzzi was robbing stores trying to get himself a better way of life.”
“Probably he was robbing stores so he could buy dope,” Connie said.
“See, now that‘s uncharitable,” Lula said. “You‘re judging him without knowing the circumstances. He could have had a reason. He could have a sick mama who needed medicine.”
Connie didn‘t look convinced. “Would you rob a store at gunpoint if your mother needed medicine?” she asked Lula.
“I didn‘t need to,” Lula said. “I had skills. I had a honest profession.”
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