Fortune and Glory (Stephanie Plum 27)

Both men were on their backs, sprawled at awkward angles. Shot once in the head and once in the chest. From the lack of blood at the scene I was guessing they were shot somewhere else, and then probably pitched off the pickup.

“They tried to kidnap me this morning when I came out of my apartment building,” I said. “They said Shine wanted to talk to me. I declined the invitation, they chased me around the neighborhood, and finally they pinned me down when I tried to return to my parking lot. The guy in the suit is named Sanchez. I don’t know any more than that. He got off a shot at me, a car came out of nowhere and ran him over, and then ran the other guy over. The car sped off and I went to my apartment and called 911. I was looking out the window, talking to dispatch, when a blue pickup drove into the lot, scooped both guys up, and drove away with them.”

The medical examiner arrived, and Morelli and I moved away from the taped-off area.

“This is a classic Shine hit,” Morelli said. “Once in the head and once in the chest. If we can retrieve a bullet, I’m guessing it’ll match the one we recovered from the dead hooker you found. Alice Smuther. Schmidt interviewed her neighbor across the hall. He said Shine was living with Smuther for a short time. He heard them arguing and he assumed Shine moved out. He didn’t see Smuther after that.”

“Why would Shine kill her?”

“I can only speculate, but possibly Shine killed Smuther for the same reason he killed these two. Shine has a reputation for getting rid of loose ends. Dead men tell no tales. They can’t give you up to cop a plea bargain. In the case here, if he hadn’t killed them, they would be getting medical attention. I’m taking a wild guess, but you probably have Connie calling around to find them. And after you had a heart-to-heart with them you would have turned them over to us, right?”

“Right.”

“And one more wild guess,” Morelli said. “You know the driver of the hit-and-run car.”

“It wasn’t Ranger.”

“And?”

“It was moving fast. All I can tell you is that it was black, and it was small. Not an SUV.”

“That narrows it down,” Morelli said.

I left Morelli, walked around the block to the front of the building where my car was parked, and I called Connie.

“Your men didn’t check in at any of the clinics or hospitals,” Connie said.

“That’s because they’re dead,” I said. “Shot Shine execution-style and dumped behind the office. I’m there now.”

“A bullet in the head and another in the chest?” Connie asked.

“Yes.”

“You’d think Shine would change it up once in a while.”

“Is your mom home? Did she hear anything helpful?”

“Jimmy’s sister said Shine is in Atlantic City. He comes to Trenton when he has to, but mostly his crew goes to him.”

“Did she say where in Atlantic City?”

“She only knew that he was staying in someone’s home. She said she heard it was one of his buddies from the old days. He was well connected when he was younger, and he had a lot of friends. If you wanted a liquor license or a pizza at three in the morning for your pregnant wife or demanding girlfriend, Shine could make it happen.”

“Start collecting a list of his friends,” I said. “You make the phone calls and give me the names. I’ll run the real estate searches.”

“Do you have those programs?”

“No. I’m on my way home. Send me links to whatever I need.”

I was back in the Buick. If Shine’s henchmen came after me, I’d deal with it. If necessary, I could mow them down. If Gabriela could do it in a Mercedes sports car, I could for sure do it with the Buick.

I had a few butterflies in my stomach when I pulled into my parking lot. That’s okay, I thought. It’s a reminder to be cautious. And it’s good to be cautious. It’s not good to be fearful. Fear isn’t a productive emotion.

I found a parking place close to the back door and three minutes later I was in my apartment with the door locked. Cautious but not afraid, I told myself. My new mantra.

I grabbed a granola bar and a bottle of water, took them to the dining room table, and opened my MacBook. I downloaded the search programs from Connie plus three names. I researched the three names and eliminated them. No real estate in Atlantic City. Four more names came in from Connie. I ran them through the system. Nothing.

It was nine o’clock at night when I received the last batch of names from Connie. It was as if she’d downloaded the entire Trenton phone book and sent it to me. Out of all those names, I found two with Atlantic City residences. In both cases they were second residences. One was a condo in a low-rise building. The other was a modest house in Pleasantville. I’d take a road trip in the morning.