Hardcore Twenty-Four (Stephanie Plum 24)

“It got over early. He got bursitis playing skillo. He was a dud anyway. All he could talk about was his prostate, and how he was getting radiation, and his prostate was going to turn into a useless leather hacky sack. I got an idea his prostate was useless before he got zapped.”

“Bummer.”

“Yeah. How are you doing with Johnny Chucci?”

“I captured him, but he shot himself in the foot, so I left him with his mother.”

“Was he wearing his underpants on his head?”

“No.”

“Too bad. I bet that would be something to see.”

“I’m going to borrow Big Blue for a couple days.”

“Help yourself. The keys are in the car.”

I backed the Buick out of the garage and drove the short distance to Morelli’s house. I let myself in and found Morelli in front of the television with a bag of chips and a beer. Bob was on the couch next to him.

“This game sucks,” he said when he saw me. “Both teams suck.”

I sat down at the far end of the couch and helped myself to some chips. I gave a couple to Bob and ate the rest.

“I need to feed Ethel,” I said. “Want to ride shotgun?”

“Yeah. I live to feed Ethel.”

“As a special bonus, you could look in the woods for zombies.”

“Sorry. It’s my day off from zombies.”

I went to the kitchen and looked in his fridge. Half a leftover pepperoni pizza. Two boxes of frozen waffles in the freezer. A loaf of bread on the counter. I gathered them all up and put them in a grocery bag.

Morelli followed me. “What’s with the food in the bag?”

“It’s for Ethel. I’m out of rotisserie chicken money. I had some really great roadkill for her, but it exploded.”

“I’m not even going to ask.”

“I appreciate that, because I don’t want to talk about it.”

• • •

We took Morelli’s car and drove down Diggery’s road in silence, scanning the cleared areas and surrounding woods. We wouldn’t admit to believing in zombies, but it was hard to dispute the presence of zombie-like things.

Morelli parked close to the double-wide, and I carefully entered and looked around. Ethel was coiled in the bedroom doorway.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Lunch.”

I dumped the food on the dining table and returned to Morelli.

“How was it in there?” he asked, as I climbed into the front seat.

“Nothing new. How was it out here?”

“Lonely. Would you like to get naked?”

“Here?”