Hard Eight (Stephanie Plum 8)

“Christ,” Morelli said, grinning. “It's your sister and Albert Kloughn.”

Mickey Lauder was grinning, too. He'd dated Valerie in high school. “Sorry,” he said, hauling her to her feet, “I didn't recognize you at first. You've changed your hair.”

“Are you married?” Valerie asked.

“Yeah. Big time. I've got four kids.”

“Just curious,” Valerie said on a sigh.

Kloughn was still on the ground. “I'm pretty sure she didn't do anything illegal,” he said. “She couldn't get in. The doors were locked, and she didn't want to wake anybody. It wouldn't have been breaking and entering, right? You can break into your own house, right? I mean, that's what you have to do if you forget your key, right?”

“I saw you go to bed with the kids,” I said to Valerie. “How'd you get out here?”

“The same way you used to sneak out when you were in high school,” Morelli said, the grin getting wider. “Out the bathroom window to the back porch roof and then down to the garbage can.”

“You must be really hot stuff, Kloughn,” Lauder said, still enjoying it. “I could never get her to sneak out for me.”

“I don't like to brag or anything,” Kloughn said, “but I know what I'm doing.”

Grandma came up behind me in her bathrobe. “What's going on?”

“Valerie got busted.”

“No kidding?” Grandma said. “Good for her.”

Morelli shoved his gun under the waistband of his jeans. “I'm going to get my jacket and have Lauder drop me off at home. You'll be okay now. Grandma can stay up with you. Sorry about Monopoly, but you're a really lousy player.”

“I let you win because you were doing me a favor.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I HATE TO interrupt your breakfast,” Grandma said to me, “but there's a great big, scary-looking guy at the door, and he wants to talk to you. He said he's delivering a car.”

That would be Tank.

I went to the door, and Tank handed me a set of keys. I looked beyond him, to the curb. Ranger had given me a new black CR-V. Very much like the car that had gotten blown up. I knew from past experience it would be upgraded in every way possible. And probably it had a tracking device stuck in a place I'd never think to look. Ranger liked to keep tabs on his cars and his people. A new black Land Rover with a driver waited behind the CR-V.

“This is for you, too,” Tank said, giving me a cell phone. “It's programmed with your number.”

And he was gone.

Grandma looked after him. “Was he from the rental car company?”

“Sort of.”

I returned to the kitchen and drank my coffee while I checked the answering machine in my apartment. I had two calls from my insurance company. The first told me I would be receiving forms by priority mail. The second told me I was canceled. There were three calls of nothing but breathing. I assumed this was the rabbit. The last message was from Evelyn's neighbor, Carol Nadich.

“Hey, Steph,” she said. “I haven't seen Evelyn or Annie, but something funny is going on here. Give me a call when you get a chance.”

“I'm going out,” I said to my mother and grandmother. “And I'm taking my stuff. I'm going to stay with a friend for a couple days. I'm leaving Rex here.”

My mother looked up from cutting soup vegetables. “You aren't moving in with Joe Morelli again, are you?” she asked. “I don't know what to tell people. What do I say?”

“I'm not staying with Morelli. Don't tell people anything. There's nothing to tell. If you need to talk to me, you can reach me on my cell phone.” I stopped at the door. “Morelli says you should have a security chain put on the doors. He said they're not safe this way.”

“What would happen?” my mother said. “We have nothing to steal. This is a respectable neighborhood. Nothing ever happens here.”

I carted my bag out to the car, tossed it onto the backseat, and climbed behind the wheel. Better to talk to Carol in person. It took less than two minutes to get to her house. I parked and did a survey of the street. Everything looked normal. I knocked once, and she answered her door.