I popped a frozen waffle into the toaster and ate it cookie style when it was done. I drank two cups of coffee and walked my sore muscles into the bathroom to take a shower.

I stood under the steaming water for a long time, reviewing my mental list of things to do. I needed to call about my pickup. I needed to do laundry and pay some bills. I had to return Mary Lou's sweatshirt. And last but not least, I had to find Uncle Mo.

First thing I called about the pickup.

“It's your carburetor,” the service manager of the blue team told me. “We could put a new one in or we could try to rebuild the one you've got. It'd be a lot cheaper to rebuild. Of course there's no guarantee with a rebuild.”

“What do you mean it's my carburetor? I just got points and plugs.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It needed them too.”

“And now you're sure it needs a carburetor.”

“Yeah. Ninety-five percent sure. Sometimes you get problems like this, and you've got faulty EGR valve operation. Sometimes you've got faulty PCV valve airflow or faulty choke vacuum diaphragm. Could be a defective fuel pump . . . but I don't think that's it. I think you need a new carburetor.”

“Fine. Good. Wonderful. Give me a carburetor. How long will it take?”

“Not long. We'll call you.”

Next on my list was to stop off at the office and see if anything new had turned up. And while I was there, maybe just for the heck of it I'd run a credit history on Andrew Larkin, the Montgomery Street tenant Ranger and I had questioned.

I threw on a bunch of warm clothes, hustled downstairs, chipped the latest layer of ice off the Buick and rumbled on down to the office.

Lula and Connie were already busy at work. Vinnie's door was closed.

“Is he in?” I asked.

“Haven't seen him,” Connie said.

“Yeah,” Lula added. “Maybe somebody drove a stake in his heart last night, and he won't be in at all.”

The phone rang, and Connie handed it over to Lula. “Someone named Shirlene,” Connie said.

I raised my eyebrows to Lula. Shirlene, who was Leroy Watkins's woman?

“Yes!” Lula said when she got off the phone. “We're on a roll! We got ourselves another live one. Shirlene says Leroy came home last night. And then they got into a big fight, and Leroy beat up some on Shirlene and kicked her out to the street. So Shirlene says we could have his ugly ass.”

I had my keys in my hand and my coat zipped. “Let's go.”

“This is gonna be easy,” Lula said when we hit Stark Street. “We're just gonna sneak up on ol' Leroy. Probably he think it gonna be Shirlene at the door. I just hope he don't come to the door too happy, you know what I mean?”

I knew exactly what she meant, and I didn't want to think about it. I parked in front of Leroy's building, and we both sat there in silence.

“Well,” Lula finally said. “He probably wouldn't want to ruin his door a second time. Probably he caught it from the landlord. Doors don't grow on trees, you know.”

I considered that. “Maybe he isn't even in there,” I added. “When was the last Shirlene saw him?”

“Last night.”

We did some more sitting.

“We could wait out here for him,” Lula said. “Do a stakeout.”

“Or we could call.”

Lula looked up into the third-story windows. “Calling might be a good idea.”

A few more minutes passed.

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