Twisted Twenty-Six (Stephanie Plum 26)

“How did it go with the guy who exploded himself? Did you find all his parts?”

“Mostly,” Morelli said. “A cat ran off with something, and we couldn’t catch it. We think it might have been a finger. How’s your day going, aside from bingo?”

“It’s been routine. I was offered a ride while I was walking Bob, but I declined. Black Cadillac sedan. Two morons inside. Said someone wanted to talk to me. Wouldn’t give me a name.”

“Did you get a picture of their plate?”

“No. I was a little flustered.”

“Do you need a big strong guy to come over to protect you?”

“Thanks, but I’ve already got two of those hanging out in the parking lot.”

We exchanged a few more pleasantries and disconnected. I turned to go back inside and saw a black Cadillac sedan idling across the street. I gave it a little finger wave, and it drove away.

* * *

—

At nine o’clock an argument broke out over the Dittman’s grand prize. Suzanne Blik was declared the winner, and Karen Barkley instantly accused her of cheating. The accusation had some merit because we all knew Suzanne cheated all the time. We also knew that almost everyone cheated all the time at bingo.

“I won this fair and square,” Suzanne said.

“You never won anything fair and square,” Karen said. “That Dittman’s basket belongs to the runner-up. And that would be me.”

They both had a grip on the big wicker basket. Karen wrenched it away from Suzanne, and the basket went airborne. Cans of gravy and green beans, a loaf of rye bread, and the massive rump roast flew out of the basket. The empty basket hit Tootie square in the face, and Tootie sat down hard on the floor. Blood gushed out of her nose.

Marvina panicked and hit the big red FIRE EMERGENCY button on the wall. Overhead sprinklers went off and gushed water, and everyone ran screaming for the door. A bunch of firefighters rushed in and carted Tootie out of the room.

Grandma and I exited the building, and Grandma immediately took off for the parking lot.

“Hurry up,” she said to me. “Where’s the car? I gotta get in the car.”

The parking lot wasn’t well lit, but it’s easy to spot a powder blue and white ’53 Buick Roadmaster. I slid behind the wheel, and Grandma climbed in next to me. I looked over and realized she had the rump roast.

“Omigod,” I said. “I can’t believe you took the rump roast.”

“Someone had to take it,” Grandma said. “It wouldn’t be right to waste a good rump roast.”

* * *

—

Ranger was waiting for me when I slogged into my apartment. He was dressed in the standard Rangeman uniform of full utility gun belt, black cargo pants, and long-sleeved shirt with the Rangeman emblem on the sleeve. He owned the company, but he still did the occasional shift when they were short on manpower.

I was soaked to the skin, and I had two layers of mascara streaking my face. Water dripped off the hem of my jeans.

“Babe,” Ranger said, “your lips are blue. We need to get you out of those wet clothes.”

“I think my lips might be blue from my mascara.”

The hint of a smile twitched at the corners of Ranger’s mouth. “Maybe, but I’d still like to get you out of your clothes.”

I got rid of my shoes and peeled my socks off. “What are you doing here?”

“Mental health check. I was ending a patrol shift and heard you were heading home after a bingo disaster.”

“Marvina panicked when Tootie got hit in the face with the Dittman’s basket. She punched the button on the fire alarm and set the overhead sprinklers off. I imagine she thought she was hitting an emergency help button.”