“Okay,” he said. “Been here, done this.”

“Can you fix it?”

“Sure.”

“How long? How much?”

“Depends on parts.”

I'd heard this before.

He jerked his thumb at a bunch of junks lined up against a chain-link fence. “You could pick out one of those to use as a loaner if you want. I got a classic Buick that's a beauty. A fifty-three.”

“NO!”

Rex was running on his wheel when I walked through the door. I'd stopped at the supermarket and gotten healthy food for Rex and me. Fruit, low-fat cottage cheese, potatoes and some of those already washed and peeled thumb-sized carrots in a bag. I said howdy to Rex and gave him a grape. My message light was blinking, so I hit the button and listened while I unpacked the groceries.

Ranger called to say he'd heard about Mo and the lawyer, and that it didn't change my job. It's simple, Ranger said. You get hired to find a man and that's what you do.

Mes

sage number two was from Bucky Seidler. “I was able to get the part I needed,” Bucky said into the machine. “I'll put it in first thing in the morning. You can pick your car up anytime after ten.”

I bit into my lower lip. Lord, I hoped it wasn't another carburetor.

The last call started out with a lot of noise. People talking, and the sort of clatter you hear at an arcade. Then a man came on the line. “I'm watching you, Stephanie,” the man said. “I'm watching you have lunch with your cop boyfriend. I was watching you last night, too. Watching you diddle on the kitchen floor. Good to see you decided to do something else besides harassing upstanding citizens. You keep concentrating on banging Morelli and maybe you'll live to be an old lady.”

I stared at the machine, unable to breathe. My chest was impossibly tight, and my ears were ringing. I leaned against the refrigerator and closed my eyes. Imagine you're at the ocean, I thought. Hear the surf. Breathe with the surf, Stephanie.

When I got my heart rate under control, I rewound the tape and popped it out of the recorder. I took a blank from the junk drawer next to the refrigerator and slid it into the machine. It was a few minutes after five. I called Morelli to make sure he was home.

“ 'Lo,” Morelli said.

“You going to be there for a while?”

“Yeah. I just got in.”

“Don't go away. I have something you need to hear. I'll be right over.”

I dropped the tape into my shoulder bag, grabbed my jacket and locked up behind myself. I got down to the first floor and froze at the door. What if they were out there? Waiting for me. Spying on me. I took a few steps back and exhaled. This wasn't t good. It was okay to be afraid, but not okay to let it restrict my life. I moved away from the glass panes and checked my shoulder bag. I had the .38, and it was loaded. My cell phone was charged. My stun gun was charged. I transferred the pepper spray to my jacket pocket. Not good enough. I took the spray out of my pocket and held it in my left hand. Car keys in my right.

I paced in the lobby for a few beats to get the fear under control. When I felt strong, I turned and walked out the door and across the lot to my car. I never broke stride. Never turned my head right or left. But I was listening. I was on the balls of my feet, and I was ready to act if I had to.

I'd chosen a green Mazda as a loaner. It was rusted and dented and reeked of cigarettes, but its performance couldn't be faulted. I checked the interior, stuck the key in the lock, opened the door and slid behind the wheel. I locked the door, immediately cranked the engine over and rolled out of the lot.

No one followed that I could tell, and once I got onto St. James there were too many headlights to distinguish a tail. I had my shoulder bag on the seat alongside me and my pepper spray in my lap. To keep my spirits up I sang “Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?” all the way to Morelli's house. I parked at the curb and checked the street. No cars. No one on foot. I locked the Mazda, marched to Morelli's front door and knocked. I guess I was still nervous because the knock came out like BAM BAM BAM instead of knock, knock, knock.

“Must have had your Wheaties today,” Morelli said when he answered the door.

I pushed past him. “You keep your doors locked?”

“Sometimes.”

“They locked now?”

Morelli reached behind him and flipped the Yale lock. “Yep.”

I went to the living room window and drew the drapes. “Pull the curtains in the dining room and kitchen.”

Tags: Janet Evanovich Stephanie Plum Mystery
Source: readsnovelonline.net