Hardcore Twenty-Four (Stephanie Plum 24)

I put my groceries away, gave Rex a small piece of Pop-Tart, and went into my bedroom, where I found Diesel sprawled across my bed.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“Thinking. Want to join me?”

“No.”

“Afraid you might like it?”

“Yes.”

That got another grin out of him. He reached for me and I ran away, back to the kitchen. I ate what was left of the Pop-Tart, and I called Morelli.

“Yo,” he said. “I was just about to call you. I’m going to have to cancel dinner tonight. We’ve got a situation here.”

“I’ve got a situation too. What’s your situation?”

“We found some heads.”

“The ones without bodies?”

“Yeah. Problem is we’ve got more heads than bodies now.”

“How many heads do you have?”

“I’m not authorized to say, but it’s more than three and less than ten.”

“That could be a lot of heads.”

“Actually, it’s less than five,” Morelli said.

“Have they been identified?”

“Three have been identified.”

“What about the headless guy found behind the hardware store?”

“It looks like one of the heads might belong to him, but the circumstances are odd. The autopsy has him dying from a heart attack several hours before his head was removed.”

“Eeuuww.”

“Exactly. It’s like someone has a head fetish. I’m really tied up here. It would be great if you could walk Bob for me, and maybe we could have a late dinner.”

“No problem.”

I disconnected and marched back to the bedroom.

“So much for Spidey sense,” I said to Diesel.

“Honeypot, you don’t ever want to underestimate my Spidey sense.”

“Here’s the plan. I’m leaving. I’m going to look for a snake and an FTA. Then I’m going to Morelli’s house. I’d appreciate it if you’d talk to Rex once in a while. Make sure he has fresh water. And don’t eat all the mac and cheese.”

I threw some clothes and a package of hot dogs into a small duffel bag, said goodbye to Rex, and told him I’d be back. I left the apartment and headed for my car. Truth is I wasn’t crazy about the whole leaving thing, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was involved in a relationship with Morelli, and he wouldn’t be happy to hear I was cohabitating with Diesel.

• • •

I drove to Diggery’s double-wide, parked, and peeked inside. No cats. No raccoons. No rats. No snake. Horrible smell. I didn’t spend a lot of time peeking. I jumped into my car and looked for Ethel as I inched my way along the road and out of the neighborhood. No luck.