Fortune and Glory (Stephanie Plum 27)

“Sometimes she parks by the dumpster. She kind of hides behind it in her little car. It’s like the stealth car.”

“Was she there when you got here?”

“No. I didn’t see her.”

I thought she was probably getting the dents taken out of the Mercedes and having it detailed to get rid of the blood.

I called Connie and asked if her mother had any thoughts on where Shine might be hiding.

“Mom isn’t here,”

Connie said. “She’s with Benny’s sister. They’re making the funeral arrangements. I’ll ask if she’s heard anything when she comes home.”

“I had two of Shine’s men try to kidnap me just now. Young. Late twenties. One was bulked up with muscle and the other was thin. The thin one was named Sanchez and had a scar running the length of his face. They were trying to shoot me in my parking lot, and Gabriela came out of nowhere in her Mercedes and ran them over.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. For real. Sanchez ended up a crumpled heap on the pavement and the muscle guy had a compound fracture of his right leg. Probably a bunch of other body parts were also broken, but I couldn’t see those. I was calling 911 when a blue pickup drove into the lot, scooped them both up, and drove off. You have a lot of nurse contacts. Could you call around and see if they checked into any of the hospitals or clinics?”

“I’m on it,” Connie said.

“Wow,” Potts said when I hung up. “You didn’t tell me any of that. I must have just missed it. Were they really shooting at you in the parking lot?”

“Only one of them.”

“So, you’re going to try to track down these guys and get them to tell you where to find Shine?”

“Yes. While Connie is checking hospitals and clinics, I’m going to check on the house in Ewing.”

“Do you think we should be doing this all by ourselves?” Potts asked. “Maybe we should get Lula. She has a gun.”

I wasn’t interested in Lula’s gun. Half the time she couldn’t find it in her massive purse. And if she did find it, chances of her hitting what she aimed at were zip, and that was usually a good thing. However, I could use her car. Her Firebird stood out, but it didn’t shout Stephanie Plum like the Buick.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Lula was on the sidewalk in front of her apartment when I drove up. I parked the Buick, and Potts and I got out and transferred over to the Firebird.

“I was surprised when you called,” Lula said. “I thought you’d be taking a day off after the funeral and the car squashing. And it sounded to me like you were at another dead end.”

I told her about Shine’s two thugs and Gabriela.

“So, you’re ramping up the Shine search? Are you sure you don’t just want to move to Santa Fe? I hear it’s real nice there. You could get some kick-ass snakeskin cowboy boots.”

“The cowboy boots have some appeal,” I said, “but I’m a Jersey girl. And Jersey girls always get their man.”

“Fuckin’ A,” Lula said. “Let’s do it. Where are we going?”

I gave Lula the address, she pulled away from the curb, and Potts started his nervous humming. He had a right to be nervous. He’d been punctured, shot at, and kidnapped. And in spite of all that, he was sticking with me. That took guts. There was strength of character buried under all his weirdness. Unfortunately, that didn’t make him any less annoying.

“If you don’t stop humming, you’re gonna have to ride on the roof,” Lula said to Potts.

“Is this going to be dangerous?” Potts asked. “I need to prepare myself if it’s going to be dangerous.”

“How are you going to prepare?” Lula asked him.

“I might take a pill,” Potts said. “I have Xanax, Imodium, a multivitamin, Benadryl, lithium, and a couple orange pills that aren’t entirely legal.”

“I’d go with the multivitamin,” Lula said. “It’s a good start.”