“And here we have a suspicious substance on Joe Morelli's front lawn,” Brenda said into her mic. “It would appear that the dog in this household has been fed a thong. Clearly a case for investigation by...” She looked over at the soundman. “Who investigates this shit?”
Stephanie Plum 14 - Fearless Forteen
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lula was ON my cell phone. “I'm two minutes away,” she said. “Be out front. I'm in a consultation for my wedding gown, and I need an opinion. You gotta go back to the bride store with me.”
“Okay, but I can't stay away too long. I don't like leaving Zook on his own.”
“Don't he have Homegrown Security with him?”
“Yeah, that's part of the problem.”
I grabbed my purse, told everyone I'd be back soon and I was on my cell if an emergency arose, and I ran out of the house. The Firebird careened around the corner and slid to a stop in front of me. Lula was behind the wheel in a silky bathrobe.
“I got a hour appointment with these bitches,” she said, “and the clock's ticking.”
“You're in a bathrobe.”
“It took less time than getting back in my clothes.”
I fastened my seat belt and we rocketed away. “I thought you were having second thoughts about marrying an alcoholic.”
“Yeah, but I had this appointment, and I didn't want to lose it. I might have to wait weeks to get another appointment. I mean, even if I don't marry Tank, chances are good I'll marry someone else someday. Might as well get the gown, I figure.”
“You might want to rethink that plan.”
“Yeah, it's insane, right? It's that I have momentum. You see what I'm saying? It's all in motion and it don't stop. Turns out, that's how it is with weddings. You just keep getting in deeper and deeper until you want to throw up.”
Lula hooked a left, cut across traffic, and zipped into the small parking lot that attached to the bridal salon. We got out and hurried into the showroom.
“You sit down, and I'll put the gown on,” Lula said.
I was halfway through a magazine when she rustled out of the dressing room.
The gown was brilliant white satin and fit like skin from Lula's ankles to her armpits. It was strapless and had a bustle in the back over her ass and a twelve-foot train that stretched out behind her.
“We like this one because it's so slimming,” the saleswoman said. “We think it hugs her curves and is very flattering. She's a lucky lady that we had her size in stock.”
“All it needs is some of them crystal beads to make it sparkle,” Lula said.
“They said they could sew them on.”
The gown was slimming because it was two sizes too small and squished in all Lula's fat and pushed it up until there was no more gown.
She was spilling out of the top in rolls of Lula. She had cleavage everywhere... front, back, side.
“It's pretty,” I said, “but there seems to be a lot of you oozing over the top. Maybe you should go up a size.”
“They don't got this in a bigger size,” Lula said. “And anyway, I don't want it too big on account of I'm planning to lose some weight.”
I heard something pop and fly off the back of the dress, and the zipper burst open.
“Hunh,” Lula said. “This here seems to be shoddy workmanship.”
Ten minutes later, Lula dropped me at Morelli's.
“Boy,” Lula said. “I dodged that bullet. Those people don't know how to sew.”