Seven Up (Stephanie Plum 7)

“It was an accident,” DeChooch said. He squinted at the painting. “Where did I get him?”

“In the knee.”

“That's a relief,” DeChooch said. “At least it wasn't no place fatal.”

“So about your court appearance,” I said. “I'd take it as a personal favor if you'd go down to the station with me and reschedule.”

“Boy, you're a real pain in the ass,” DeChooch said. “How many times do I have to tell you . . . forget about it. I'm depressed. I'm not gonna go sit in jail when I'm feeling depressed. You ever been in jail?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, take my word for it, it's no place to be when you're depressed. And anyway, there's something I've got to do.”

I was sorting through my bag. I had pepper spray in there somewhere. And probably my stun gun.

“Besides, there's people looking for me, and they're a lot tougher than you,” DeChooch said. “And locking me up in jail would make it real easy for them to find me.”

“I'm tough!”

“Lady, you're amateur hour,” DeChooch said.

I pulled out a can of hair spray, but I couldn't find the pepper spray. I needed better organization. Probably I should put the pepper spray and stun gun in the zipper compartment, but then I'd have to find another place for my gum and mints.

“I'm going now,” DeChooch said. “And I don't want you to follow me or I'll have to shoot you.”

“Just one question. What did you want from Mooner?”

“That's private between him and me.”

DeChooch left through a side door, and Carolli and I stared after him.

“You just let

a murderer get away,” I said to Carolli. “You were sitting here drinking with a murderer!”

“Nah. Choochy's no murderer. We go way back. He's got a real good heart.”

“He tried to shoot Mooner.”

“He got excited. Ever since that stroke he's been excitable like that.”

“He had a stroke?”

“Just a small one. Hardly counted at all. I've had worse strokes.”

Oh boy.

I caught up with Mooner half a block from his house. He was scooting along, running and walking, looking over his shoulder, doing the Mooner version of a rabbit fleeing the hounds. By the time I parked, Mooner was already through the door, had located a roach, and was lighting up.

“People are shooting at you,” I said. “You shouldn't be smoking dope. Dope makes you stupid, and you need to be smart.”

“Dude,” Mooner said on an exhale.

Yeesh.

I dragged Mooner out of his house and down to Dougie's house. We had a new development here. DeChooch was after something and he thought Dougie had it. And now he thinks Mooner's got it.

“What was DeChooch talking about?” I asked Mooner. “What's he after?”