Lean Mean Thirteen (Stephanie Plum 13)

“Binkie had it towed to the salvage yard,” Ranger said.

“Which one?”

“Rosollis off Stark.”

“How's Tank?”

“Tanks good. He was discharged this morning. Anything I need to know?”

“Yes, but its too complicated to tell you on the phone. I'll be around later. Did you feed Rex breakfast and give him fresh water?”

“That's part of Ella's job description.”

I flipped my phone closed. “It's at Rosolli s.”

Dickie s eyes got wide. “The junkyard? My God, they'll compress it to the size of a lunchbox.”

“I'll call it in,” Morelli said. “They'll send someone out to locate the car.”

“What about me?” Dickie said. “Do I stay here?”

“Your status hasn't changed,” Morelli said. “Until I hear otherwise, you're in protective custody.”

“Get me your laundry basket,” I said to Morelli. “I need clean clothes. I think I'm starting to mold.”

EIGHTEEN

Grandma Mazur had Blackie under her arm when she opened the door.

“What are you doing with Blackie?” I asked her.

“I've been trying to find just the right place to set him out. I want him to look natural.” At the risk of being unkind, Blackie would need to be in Frankenstein's lab to look natural. "I have Morelli's laundry. I thought I'd throw it in the washer, and then I have to get back to

Morelli," I told Grandma.

“Blackie and me will take care of it for you. We haven't got anything better to do.” I left the laundry with Grandma and ran back to Morelli's SUV. I thought maybe Lula was

right and I didn't do much for Morelli. It wouldn't kill me to p

itch in and clean his house today. It was only a matter of time before my life would be back to normal, although I was beginning to think weird might be normal for me. The police would get the car and the clock and the money. They'd find Petiak and lock him up. And I wasn't sure what would happen to Dickie.

Morelli's house was less than a quarter of a mile from my parents' house. I drove two blocks and was T-boned by a Hummer coming out of an alley that ran behind a row of houses. The impact rammed me into a parked car and left me breathless. Before I had a chance to collect myself, my door was wrenched open, and I was yanked from behind the wheel. It was Dave with a broken nose, bandaged finger, and brace on his knee.

“Haw,” Dave said, jamming the barrel of a gun into my ribs. “We figured you'd come to see your mom. We've been waiting for you.”

I recognized the garage from Dickie's description. No windows. Room for two cars. Large charred area where Petiak had demonstrated the flamethrower.

“We finally meet,” Petiak said. “I hope you brought the key.”

“Here's the thing about the key. I don't have it.”

“Wrong answer. That's not at all what I wanted to hear. That answers making me angry.”

“Yes, but I know where it is.”

“Why can nothing ever be simple?” Petiak asked, sounding a lot like my mother.

“As Dickie probably told you, I didn't realize I had the key. He hid the key in a clock. I took the clock. I didn't know there was a key in it. I left the clock in the trunk of a car. And the car was towed to a salvage yard.”