“Sounds like a lot of bacon,” Connie said.
“I'm pushing the boundaries of science here,” Lula said. “I'm gonna be a supermodel with a smile on my face on account of I'm gonna be full of bacon.”
“I need to go to TriBro,” I said. “I'm looking for someone to ride shotgun.”
“That would be me,” Lula said.
Lula and Tank waited in the lot while I went in to talk to Andrew Cone.
“This is really good,” Cone said. “I had to tell you this in person. First thing this morning I found an email from one of the people I do business with in Vegas. Bill Weber. He said Samuel Singh filled out a job application and Weber was emailing to check references. I got so excited, I called the guy. Got him out of bed. Forgot about the time change.”
“Singh's in Vegas? And he was dumb enough to list you as a reference?”
Cone bobbed his head up and down, smiling wide. “Yes.”
“I bet he even gave a street address.”
“He did.” Cone slid a piece of paper my way with all the information neatly printed out. “I told Weber about the visa bond and he's going to string Singh along until you get there. You're going to go get him, right?”
“Right.”
Lula was looking kind of sick when I got back to the car.
“How much of that bacon did you eat?” I asked her.
“I ate it all. It didn't seem like so much while I was eating it, but it doesn't feel like it fits in my stomach now.”
I called Ranger and told him about Singh. “He's in Vegas, waiting for you to go get him,” I said.
“I'm having a small legal problem with Nevada on a weapons violation,” Ranger said. “You're going to have to make the capture. Take Tank. I don't want you to go alone.”
Good grief.
Stephanie Plum 9 - To The Nines
Chapter Nine
Lusa was up straight in her seat. “What's this about Vegas?”
“Samuel Singh is in Vegas and Ranger can't make the capture. So either I go or Vinnie farms the capture out to a Vegas agency.”
“Don't even suggest farming it out. All my life I've wanted to go to Vegas. I hear there's a shopping center that's just like being in Venice with canals and boats and everything. And there's all those casinos and fancy hotels. There's the Strip. The Strip! I could get to see the Strip.” Lula stopped and blinked. “You were gonna take me, right?”
“Ranger wants me to go with Tank.”
“Tank? Are you shittin' me?” Lula pulled back, eyes bugged out with the injustice of it all. “Hunh. I get to go along on all the chicken-?shit stuff. Sit in the car while you go into TriBro. And I'm the one goes to the back door when you go to the front door on a bust. I always get the back door. Do I complain? Hell no. I guess I know where I stand here.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Are you done?”
“No way. I'm not done. And I'm feeling anxious now. I need a burger or something.”
“You just ate three pounds of bacon!”
“Yeah, but the dogs ate one of those strips.”
I drove out of the lot and headed for the office. “Okay, fine. I'll take you to Vegas if you can clear it with Connie.”
“I knew it,” Lula said. “I knew you wouldn't go without me. We're a team, right? We're like those two cops in the Lethal Weapon movies. We're like Mel