Three to Get Deadly (Stephanie Plum 3)

“Hunh,” Lula said.

Vinnie popped out of his office.

“Well?” Vinnie asked.

We all looked at him. Well what?

Vinnie settled on me. “Where's Mo? Why don't we have Mo in custody? How hard could it be to catch an old man who sells candy?”

“Mo's done a disappearing act,” I said. “He's temporarily vanished.”

“So where have you looked? You check his apartment? You check his sister? You check his boyfriend?”

The office went suddenly silent.

I found my voice first. “Boyfriend?”

Vinnie smiled. His teeth white and even in his olive complexion. “You didn't know?”

“Oh my God,” Connie said, doing the sign of the cross. “Oh my God.”

My head was reeling. “Are you sure?” I asked Vinnie. As if I'd doubt Vinnie for a nanosecond when it came to expertise in alternative sexual behavior.

“Moses Bedemier is a flaming fruit,” Vinnie said, his face wreathed in happiness, his hands jiggling change in the deep pockets of his pleated polyester slacks. “Moses Bedemier wears ladies' panties.”

Vincent Plum, bail bonds. Specializing in sensitivity and political correctness.

I turned to Lula. “I thought you said Mo was a customer.”

“Unh-uh. I said I knew him. Sometimes when I was on the corner he'd ride by late at night and ask directions of Jackie or me. He'd want to know where to find Freddie the Frog or Little Lionel. I figure he do some drugs.”

“Oh my God,” Connie said. “A homosexual and a drug user. Oh my God.”

“How do you know?” I asked Vinnie.

“I'd heard rumors. And then I saw him and his significant other having dinner in New Hope a couple months ago.”

“How do you know it was a significant other and not just a friend?”

“What, you want details?” Vinnie said, smiling wide, enjoying the moment.

I grimaced and shook my head, no.

Connie squeezed her eyes shut tight.

“Yo ass,” Lula said.

“Do you have a name?” I asked Vinnie. “What's this guy look like?”

“The guy was Mo's age. Smaller, slimmer. Soft, like Mo. Dark hair, bald on top. I don't have a name, but I can make some phone calls.”

I didn't give much credence to the drug buyer theory, but I wouldn't want it to be said I'd left a stone unturned. When Lula was hooking she'd plied her trade on Stark Street, a mile-long strip of bars and crack houses and row houses converted to airless apartments and rooms to let. It'd be a waste of time for me to canvass Stark Street. No one would talk to me. That left me with two alternatives. Lula was one of them. Ranger was the other.

Stephanie Plum 3 - Three To Get Deadly

4

I could ask Ranger to make inquiries on Mo. Or I could ask Lula. This was a dilemma, being that Ranger would be my first choice, but Lula was here in front of me, on the scent, reading my mind.