Fortune and Glory (Stephanie Plum 27)

“Go around the block,” Grandma said. “You can park in front of Lena Kriswicki’s house and we can cut through her yard. She’s right behind the funeral home.”

I parked in front of Lena’s house and followed Grandma. She walked past Lena’s dining room window and a dog started barking.

“That’s Lena’s Scotty,” Grandma said. “He’s a snappy one.”

Lena’s back door opened, and Lena stepped out just as we were rounding the corner of her house. She tagged Grandma in a flashlight beam.

“Edna, is that you?” Lena asked.

“There’s no parking places left for the viewing tonight,” Grandma said. “We parked in front of your house.”

“No problem,” Lena said. “Just be careful. I hear Lou and Benny are feuding, and since Lou is crazy, anything could happen.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Grandma said.

We walked through Lena’s backyard, bushwhacked through a six-foot hedge, and skirted the funeral home’s garage.

“We can go in through the back door,” Grandma said. “That way we’ll beat the crowd and I can get a good seat up front.”

“Are you sure that’s okay?”

“Sure. Lena and I do it all the time. I know the key code.”

“How do you know the key code?”

“Lena told me. She helps out doing makeup on the deceased sometimes. She knows all about blending foundation to get just the right skin tone. She used to work the Estée Lauder counter at Macy’s.”

Grandma punched the code into the door lock, and we walked down the long hallway to the public area. A door was open just past the hospitality kitchen. It was the side door to Slumber Room #1. I looked in and saw that Benny was sitting at the head of the open casket. He was sitting on a straight chair that was too small for him and he was oozing over the sides of the seat. Two young wiseguys in training stood behind him. I knew them from previous experiences with Benny, and I knew their primary function was making food runs and getting Benny out of his chair.

Benny saw us standing in the doorway and waved us into the room. “Sit,” he said. “They’re gonna open the doors right away and it’s gonna be a cattle stampede.”

Grandma took a front-row seat, I sat down beside her, and I got a text from Lula.

Where are you? Lula wanted to know.

Front row left. Right in front of the casket, I texted back.

Save me a seat, Lula texted. And save seats for Connie and her mother. We’re all together in a big jam-up in the lobby.

The doors crashed open and people rushed in, some sitting, some filing past the deceased. Benny accepted condolences with a nod of his head. Lula sat next to me, and Connie sat next to Lula. Connie’s mom was somewhere in the casket viewing line.

“The satellite television truck is outside,” Lula said. “And I think half the police force is in here. I saw Morelli at the back of the room. He’s looking hot. He’s wearing a tweedy jacket with jeans. And he’s got a five o’clock shadow and his hair is overdue for a cut and sort of waving over his ears. I wanted to take a bite out of him.”

“Is he alone?” I asked.

“He’s with Schmidt. Schmidt isn’t looking all that hot. Schmidt needs to lay off the donuts.”

“Did you see Ranger?”

“No, but Potts is outside. He can’t come in because of his allergies. He said to tell you he’s there if you need him.”

Connie leaned across Lula. “My mom said there’s talk about how Lou has gone completely off the rails. Total postal. Word is he’s completely obsessed with you and Grandma. Marie Georgio said she was driving home, and she spotted him in front of your parents’ house two nights ago. She said he was crouched behind a parked car and he had his flamethrower with him. She blew her horn at him and he skulked away.”

“That’s the Golden Years for you,” Grandma said. “One minute you’re doing good, retired from your day job of whacking people, and then out of the blue you get an aneurysm and next thing you’ve got your flamethrower out and you’re setting cats on fire.”

“I can’t sit here,” Lula said. “I’m getting the creepy crawlies. I’m going out to the cookie table.”

“I’ll go with you,” I said. “I want to look around.”