“You mean because he might have put those holes in Loretta? I don't think so. He's been accused of killing people before and he never left the country. At least not that I know of.”
“I hate this,” my mother said. “I hate having a daughter who goes out after killers. What's the matter with Vinnie for giving this case to you?” She glared at my father. “Frank, he's your side of the family. You need to talk to him. And why can't you be more like your sister, Valerie?” my mother asked me. “She's happily married with two beautiful children. She doesn't go around chasing after killers, finding dead bodies.”
“Stephanie's almost happily married,” Grandma said. “She got engaged last month.”
“Do you see a ring on her finger?” my mother asked.
Everyone looked at my naked finger.
“I don't want to talk about it,” I said.
“I think Stephanie's got the hots for someone else,” Grandma said. “I think she's sweet on that Ranger fella.”
My father paused with his fork plunged into a mound of potatoes. “The bounty hunter? The black guy?”
My father was an equal opportunity bigot. He didn't go around painting swastikas on churches, and he didn't discriminate against minorities. It was just that with the possible exception of my mother, if you weren't Italian you weren't quite up to standards.
“He's Cuban-American,” I said.
My mother did another sign of the cross.
Stephanie Plum 7 - Seven Up
2
IT WAS DARK when I left my parents. I didn't expect Eddie DeChooch to be home, but I drove past his house anyway. Lights were blazing in the Marguchi half. The DeChooch half was lifeless. I caught a glimpse of yellow crime-scene tape still stretched across the backyard.
There were questions I wanted to ask Mrs. Marguchi, but they'd keep. I didn't want to disturb her tonight. Her day had been bad enough. I'd catch her tomorrow, and on the way I'd stop at the office and get an address for Garvey and Colucci.
I cruised around the block and headed for Hamilton Avenue. My apartment building is located a couple miles from the Burg. It's a sturdy, three-story chunk of brick and mortar built in the seventies with economy in mind. It doesn't come with a lot of amenities, but it has a decent super who'll do anything for a six-pack of beer, the elevator almost always works, and the rent is reasonable.
I parked in the lot and looked up at my apartment. The lights were on. Someone was home and it wasn't me. It was probably Morelli. He had a key. I felt a rush of excitement at the thought of seeing him, quickly followed by a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. Morelli and I have known each other since we were kids, and life has never been simple between us.
I took the stairs, trying out emotions, settling on conditionally happy. Truth is, Morelli and I are pretty sure we love each other. We're just not sure we can stand to live together for the rest of our lives. I don't especially want to marry a cop. Morelli doesn't want to marry a bounty hunter. And then there's Ranger.
I opened the door to my apartment and found two old guys sitting on my couch, watching a ball game on television. No Morelli in sight. They both stood and smiled when I came into the room.
“You must be Stephanie Plum,” one of the men said. “Allow me to make the introductions. I'm Benny Colucci and this is my friend and colleague, Ziggy
Garvey.”
“How did you get into my apartment?”
“Your door was open.”
“No, it wasn't.”
The smile widened. “It was Ziggy. He's got the touch with a lock.”
Ziggy beamed and wiggled his fingers. “I'm an old coot, but my fingers still work.”
“I'm not crazy about people breaking into my apartment,” I said.
Benny solemnly nodded. “I understand, but we thought in this instance it would be okay, being that we have something of a very serious nature to discuss.”
“And urgent,” Ziggy added. “Also of an urgent nature.”
They looked at each other and agreed. It was urgent.