Twisted Twenty-Six (Stephanie Plum 26)

“Seriously?” the driver asked.

“Instructions from my mother,” I said.

I went into the bingo hall and took my position next to Grandma. She was the center of attention, accepting condolences and sharing wake details. Marvina was at the front table, checking out the basket holding the bingo balls. Women were beginning to take their seats and lay out their cards. The door opened and Tootie and Rose walked in. A hush fell over the room, and everyone but me took a step back from Grandma.

Tootie reached into her purse, someone yelled, “She’s got a gun!” and everyone hit the floor. Tootie pulled a bingo dauber out of her purse, and there was a collective sigh of relief.

“I got a good feeling about today,” Grandma said, getting to her feet. “I feel lucky.”

“You got firebombed!”

“Yeah, but it didn’t burn the house down. And I’m wearing my lucky shoes. I was wearing these shoes when Jimmy hit the jackpot.”

I assumed she was also wearing the shoes when he died, but no point mentioning it and ruining her lucky high.

Marvina gave her bingo basket a spin, and there was a scramble for seats. Tootie and Rose settled on the opposite side of the room from Grandma. They set out their equipment, straightened their cards, and glared at Grandma.

“They’re trying to put the hex on me,” Grandma said.

“There’s no such thing as the hex.”

“Maybe not, but I’m glad I’m wearing these shoes. I’m planning on getting that grand prize tonight. I heard Dittman put a rump roast in the basket.”

After ten minutes of play, Ginny Barkalowski called out “Bingo!”

“Dang,” Grandma said. “I’m not keeping up with my cards. I can’t concentrate with Tootie hexing me. She’s giving me the eye.”

I glanced across the room at Tootie and saw that she was mumbling and had her finger pulling on her lower eyelid.

“Ignore her,” I said to Grandma. “It’s all baloney.”

Grandma slid her middle finger alongside her nose and stuck her tongue out at Tootie.

“Are you giving her the finger?” I asked Grandma.

“It’s just that my nose itched,” Grandma said. “Was I using my middle finger?”

“Yes. And you were doing it on purpose.”

“I got a bunch of slick moves like that,” Grandma said.

“If you dial back the moves I’ll take you to the diner for rice pudding after bingo.”

“I’ll do my best, but it’s hard when you keep getting provoked.”

* * *

—

Morelli called at eight o’clock.

“I can’t talk long,” I said, stepping outside the bingo hall. “I’m at bingo with Grandma. Tootie and Rose are here, and Grandma thinks they’re trying to put a hex on her.”

“She’s probably right,” Morelli said. “I hear emotions are running high over Dittman’s rump roast.”

“You know about the rump roast?”

“I’m a cop. I know everything.”