Three to Get Deadly (Stephanie Plum 3)

I took a deep breath. “Okay, let's do it.”

“Damn skippy,” Lula said.

We paused in the foyer and took stock of the building. A television blaring somewhere. A baby crying. We walked the first flight of stairs slowly, listening as we crept step by step. We stopped on the second-floor landing and took a few deep breaths.

“You aren't gonna hyperventilate, are you?” Lula asked. “I'd hate to have you keel over on me from hyperventilating.”

“I'm okay,” I told her.

“Yeah,” she said. “Me too.”

When we got to the third-floor landing neither of us was breathing at all.

We stood there staring at the door that had been patched with cardboard and two slats of stained plywood. I motioned to Lula to stand aside of the door. She jumped to attention and plastered herself against the wall. I did the same on the opposite side.

I rapped on the door. “Pizza delivery” I yelled.

There was no response.

I rapped harder and the door swung open. Lula and I still weren't breathing, and I could feel my blood pounding behind my eyeballs. Neither Lula nor I made a move for a full minute. We just pressed into the wall, not making a sound.

I called out again. “Leroy? It's Lula and Stephanie Plum. Are you

there, Leroy?”

After a while Lula said, “I don't think he's here.”

“Don't move,” I said. “I'm going in.”

“Help yourself,” Lula said. “I'd go in first, but I don't want to be a hog about this searching shit.”

I inched my way into the apartment and looked around. Everything was as I'd remembered. There was no sign of occupancy. I peeked into the bedroom. No one there.

“Well?” Lula asked from the hall.

“Looks empty.”

Lula poked her head around the doorjamb. “Too bad. I was looking to do another takedown. I was ready to kick some butt.”

I approached the closed bathroom door with my pepper spray in hand. I flipped the door open and jumped back. The door crashed against the wall and Lula dove behind the couch.

I looked into the empty bathroom, and then I looked over at Lula.

Lula picked herself up. “Just testing my reflexes,” Lula said. “Trying out new techniques.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wasn't that I was scared,” she said. “Hell, takes more than a man like Leroy to scare a woman like me.”

“You were scared,” I said.

“Was not.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Unh-uh, was not. I'll show you who's scared. And it won't t be me. Guess I can open doors too.”

Lula stomped over to the closet door and wrenched it open. The door swung wide with Lula glaring straight into the jammed-together coats and other clothes.