Seven Up (Stephanie Plum 7)

“He's got hiiiigh hopes . . . hiiiigh hopes!”

Good thing my gun was in the kitchen, because I had an urge to shoot Valerie. This was taking the cheerful thing way beyond where I wanted to go.

“Grandma said you were working on a big case and I thought maybe I could help,” Valerie said.

“I don't know . . . this guy is a killer.”

“But he's old, right?”

“Yeah. He's an old killer.”

“That sounds like a good place to start,” Valerie said, bouncing up off the couch. “Let's go get him.”

“I don't exactly know where to find him,” I said.

“He's probably feeding ducks at the lake. That's what old men do. At night they watch television and during the day they feed the ducks.”

“It's raining. I don't think he'd feed the ducks in the rain.”

Valerie glanced over at the window. “Good point.”

There was a sharp rap at the door and then the sound of someone testing the door to see if it was locked. Then there was another rap.

Morelli, I thought. Returning Mooner.

I opened the door and Eddie DeChooch stepped into my foyer. He had his gun in his hand, and he looked serious.

“Where is he?” DeChooch asked. “I know he's living with you. Where is the rat bastard?”

“Are you talking about Mooner?”

“I'm talking about the worthless little piece of shit who's screwing around with me. He's got something that belongs to me and I want it back.”

“How do you know Mooner has it?”

DeChooch pushed past me and went into my bedroom and bathroom. “His friend don't have it. And I don't have it. The only one left is this Mooner moron.” DeChooch opened closet doors and slammed them shut. “Where is he? I know you've got him locked away some place.”

I shrugged. “He said he had errands to run and that's the last I've seen of him.”

He put his gun to Valerie's head. “Who's Miss Cutesy here?”

“That's my sister Valerie.”

“Maybe I should shoot her.”

Valerie looked sideways at the gun. “Is that a real gun?”

DeChooch moved the gun six inches to the right and squeezed off a shot. The bullet missed my television by a millimeter and lodged in my wall.

Valerie went white and made a squeaky sound.

“Cripes, she sounds like a mouse,” DeChooch said.

“What am I supposed to do about that wall?” I asked him. “You made a big bullet hole in it.”

“You can show the bullet hole to your friend. You can tell him his head's gonna look like that wall if he doesn't shape up.”

“Maybe I could help you get this thing back if you'd tell me what it is.”