Two for the Dough (Stephanie Plum 2)

“Oh no. Not me.”

“All you have to do is make sure there's hot tea and say a lot of crapola like . . . the Lord moves in mysterious ways. I'll only be gone a half-hour.” He dug his keys out of his pocket. “Who was there when you got to the pipe factory?”

“The fire marshal, a uniform, some guy I didn't know, Joe Morelli, a bunch of firemen packing up.”

“They say anything worth remembering?”

“Nope.”

“You tell them the caskets belonged to me?”

“No. And I'm not staying. I want my finder's fee, and then I'm out of here.”

“I'm not handing over any money until I see this for myself. For all I know they could be someone else's caskets. Or maybe you're making all this up.”

“Half-hour,” I yelled to his back. “That's all you get!”

I checked the tea table. Nothing to do there. Lots of hot water and cookies set out. I sat down in a side chair and contemplated some nearby cut flowers. The Elks were all in the new addition with Radiewski, and the lobby was uncomfortably quiet. No magazines to read. No television. Music to die by softly filtered over the sound system.

After what seemed like four days, Eddie Ragucci ambled in. Eddie was a CPA and a big magoo in the Elks.

“Where's the weasel?” Eddie asked.

“Had to go out. He said he wouldn't be long.”

“It's too hot in Stan's room. The thermostat must be broken. We can't get it to cut off. Stan's makeup is starting to run. Things like this never happened when Con was here. It's a damn shame Stan had to go when Con was in the hospital. Talk about the lousy breaks.”

“The Lord moves in mysterious ways.”

“Ain't that the truth.”

“I'll see if I can find Spiro's assistant.”

I pushed a few buttons on the intercom, yelling Louie's name into the thing, telling him to come to the lobby.

Louie appeared just as I got to the last button. “I was in the workrooms,” he said.

“Anybody else in there?”

“Mr. Loosey.”

“I mean, are there any other employees? Like Clara from the beauty parlor?”

“No. Just me.”

I told him about the thermostat and sent him to take a look.

Five minutes later he trundled back. “The little thing was bent,” he said. “It happens all the time. People lean on it, and the little thing gets bent.”

“You like working in a funeral home?”

“I used to work in a nursing home. This is a lot easier on account of you can just hose people down here. And once you get them on the table they don't move around.”

“Did you know Moogey Bues?”

“Not until after he was shot. Took about a pound of putty to fill in his head.”

“How about Kenny Mancuso?”