Hardcore Twenty-Four (Stephanie Plum 24)

“Aren’t you afraid there’ll be trouble before you get there?”

“The television guy is still here. No one’s going to act out on Madison until the television guy gets over there.” He made a small grimace. “You know you’ve got egg on you, right?”

FIVE

LULA AND I took Grandma home and then we went to the Korean grocery on Madison. A handful of people were standing in front of the store, blocking the entrance. They were holding signs that called for DIVERSITY NOW.

I parked and approached one of the sign holders. “What’s the problem?” I asked.

“Discriminatory hiring practices,” he said.

“This store is owned by the Park family,” Lula said. “I shop here all the time. They’re real nice people. The whole family works here.”

“Their hiring practices aren’t sympathetic to diversity,” the man said.

“That’s because they’re all Korean, you moron,” Lula said. “This here’s a family-run store. You see the sign over the door? It says ‘Park Korean Grocery.’ You know how many Parks there are? About forty. And they all live in two rooms over the store. What are all those people supposed to do if they can’t dribble down into the store to stack vegetables?”

“They’re fascists,” the man said.

“You don’t even know what that means,” Lula said. “Go ahead and tell me what makes up a fascist.”

I pulled Lula away. “We’re supposed to be looking for Zero Slick, not inciting another riot.”

“Well, I don’t see no chubby short guy with a brown ponytail here. The only short person I see with a brown ponytail is an unattractive woman wearing a dress that’s totally wrong for her. And she’s wearing it with sneakers.”

I located the woman. “That’s Slick,” I said.

“Well, he got no fashion sense. It’s like he’s giving women a bad name being dressed like that.”

I had cuffs in the back pocket of my jeans and pepper spray hooked to my waistband. I also had a stun gun in my bag, but it was illegal so I preferred not to use it when there were witnesses. I walked around the group of protesters and came up behind Slick.

“Zero Slick?” I asked.

He turned and looked at me. “Yes?”

“I represent your bail bonds agent. You need to come with me to reschedule your court date.”

“Sure,” Slick said. “I’ll have my social secretary get in touch with you.”

I clapped a bracelet onto his wrist. “We need to do this now.”

He yanked his arm away, but I held firm to the second cuff.

“Are you freaking nuts?” he said. “Can’t you see I’m working? Get this thing off me.”

I reached around to secure his other wrist, and he smacked me with his sign.

“Help!” he yelled. “Police brutality.”

“I’m not a police officer,” I said to him.

He waved his sign. “Pig! Pig!”

“You stop that,” Lula said to him. “I don’t like your attitude. And on top of that I’m offended by your accessorizing.”

Word went out that the television guy had arrived, and in seconds we were surrounded by protesters demanding that I release Slick. Voices were raised. Someone shoved Lula, and she took him out with an elbow to the gut. After that it was bloody chaos. There was a flash and a BANG! And everyone stopped punching and eye gouging and stepped back.

“This is getting old,” Lula said. “My ears are ringing. I better not have permanent damage.”