Seven Up (Stephanie Plum 7)

I could hear Ranger laughing at the other end. “What's he done?”

“Everything. It's Eddie DeChooch.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No. I want you to give me some ideas on how to bring him in without killing him. I'm afraid if I zap him with the stun gun he'll go toes-up.”

“Tag team him with Lula. Bookend him and cuff him.”

“Already tried that.”

“He got away from you and Lula? Babe, he must be eighty. He can't see. He can't hear. He takes an hour and a half to empty his bladder.”

“It was complicated.”

“You could try shooting him in the foot next time,” Ranger said. “That usually works.” And he severed the connection.

Great.

I called Morelli next.

“I've got news for you,” Morelli said. “I ran into Costanza when I went out for the paper. He said the autopsy report came in on Loretta Ricci, and she died of a heart attack.”

“And then she was shot?”

“You got it, Cupcake.”

Too weird.

“I know this is your day off, but I was wondering if you'd do me a favor,” I said to Morelli.

“Oh boy.”

“I was hoping you'd baby-sit Mooner. He's tied up in this DeChooch mess, and I don't know if it's safe to leave him alone in my apartment.”

“Bob and I are all set to watch the game. We've been planning this all week.”

“Mooner can watch it with you. I'll drop him off.”

I hung up before Morelli could say no.

ROSEANNE KREINER WAS standing on her corner, in the rain, looking totally wet and pissed off. If I was a guy I wouldn't let her within twenty feet of my wanger. She was dressed in high-heeled boots and a black garbage bag. It was hard to tell what she was wearing under the bag. Maybe nothing. She was pacing and waving at passing cars, and when the cars didn't stop she'd give them the finger. Her arrest sheet said she was fifty-two.

I pulled to the curb and rolled my window down. “Do you do women?”

“Honey, I do pigs, cows, ducks, and women. You got the dime I put in my time. Twenty for a hand thing. You go into overtime if you take all day.”

I showed her a twenty, and she got into the car. I hit the auto door locks and took off for the police station.

“Any side street will do,” she said.

“I have a confession.”

“Oh shit. Are you a cop? Tell me you're not a cop.”

“I'm

not a cop. I'm bond enforcement. You missed your court date and you have to reschedule.”