Twisted Twenty-Six (Stephanie Plum 26)

I stepped around Stan and took stock of the room. There was a huge safe against one wall, with a long folding table in front of it. I assumed this was for the convenience of the bagmen. There was a card table and four folding chairs in a corner, a big brown leather couch against the far wall, and six La-Z-Boy recliners lined up in front of a big flat-screen television. That was pretty much it. Disappointing. At the very least, I’d expected wood paneling and a private bar.

Four of the La-Z-Boy chairs were occupied. Charlie, Benny, Lou, and Julius. I knew the four of them by sight. Jimmy’s chair had a framed picture of him resting in it. The sixth chair was empty. I didn’t know who sat there.

“About the keys,” I said.

“Are you sure you want to talk about this today, what with your recent loss and all?” Benny asked.

“Grandma doesn’t have the keys,” I told him. “Jimmy didn’t pass them on to her. His death was sudden. He was playing at a poker machine, apparently had a massive heart attack, and died on the spot. He didn’t say anything to Grandma. He didn’t pass anything over to her. And he didn’t give her anything that would resemble a key previous to that.”

Benny exchanged glances with the other boys. “That’s her version.”

“It’s the only version,” I said.

“We got a witness who says it didn’t go down like that,” Benny said. “We talked to an attendant who said Jimmy, should he rest in peace, grabbed hold of your granny and said something to her before he fell out of his chair. We’re thinking there was time for Granny to get the keys from Jimmy. We’re thinking that Granny very unwisely has decided to keep the keys for herself.”

“She would have told me.”

“We got no reason to trust you, either,” Benny said. “So, here’s the deal. Because we’re civilized good Catholic men, we’re giving you a grace period due to your loss. You’ve got twenty-four hours, more or less, to get the keys to us. After that we have no choice but to exert some persuasive force on your granny.”

“Why are these keys so important?”

“That’s not for you to know. It’s important to us and that’s enough.”

I narrowed my eyes at Benny. “If you do anything to cause my grandmother discomfort, you’ll answer to me.”

“Haw! We’re real scared about that.”

“I have friends.”

“We know all about your friends, and we might have to take care of them too.”

I took a moment to steady myself. I looked him in the eye and allowed a small smile to surface. “Good luck with that one,” I said. “You would be smart to let this go and start looking for a good locksmith.”

Benny leaned forward and squinted at me. “What’s with your hair? It’s got blue streaks in it. Is that something new? Like a funeral thing?”

“It looks like metal,” Julius said. “It could be a wire.”

“Do you want me to look at it more closely?” Stan asked. “Do you want me to see if she’s got a transmitter hidden somewhere?”

“They’re extensions,” I said. “I got them at the hair salon.”

“What happens if you set them on fire?” Lou asked. “Do they burn or just melt?” He smiled. “I like burning things. It’s my specialty.”

“He’s right about that,” Julius said. “He’s done some real good burn work.”

“There’s an art to it,” Lou said. “I haven’t lost my touch, either.” Another smile aimed at me. “Maybe I could show you what I can do someday? I could do you and your granny.”

“Lou likes to burn the ladies,” Julius said. “He always starts by putting his initials on their lady parts.”

I turned and calmly walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. By the time I reached the bar my heart was pounding in my ears. I picked a small sandwich up from a tray and realized my hand was shaking. Okay, so I was terrified, horrified, enraged, and had gone scramble brained. Perfectly normal for a person who is basically a wimp at heart and completely lacking in tough-guy skills. The important thing is that I was strong in front of Benny and the Boys. I was pretty sure I’d pulled it off. Whether it meant anything to them was a whole other issue.

I did slow breathing and thought about daisies in a field. Hummingbirds and butterflies. The sound of the surf at the Jersey shore. I forced myself to eat the sandwich. It was going to be okay, I told myself. I had to stay on my toes and keep my eyes open. And it wasn’t as if I had no skills at all. I’d become good at finding people. I had to transfer that skill to finding things. Like some keys.

I looked around the room. The novelty of the Mole Hole was wearing off. The possibility of pole girls performing was slim to none. The food had been savagely picked over. The crowd had thinned out, and Grandma was accepting good wishes from a handful of stragglers. Morelli was back on his heels. My parents were sitting at a table. They both looked shell-shocked.

I sidled up to Morelli, and he slid an arm around me.

“How’d it go?” he asked.