To the Nines (Stephanie Plum 9)

“I'm heading out to look for a guy named Howie. Supposedly he and Singh were buddies,” I said to Connie. “Anything new come in that I should know about?”

“We got a new skip this morning, but Vinnie doesn't want anyone working on anything other than Singh. Vinnie s in a state over this Singh thing.”

“Maybe I should go look for Howie with you,” Lula said. “If I stay here I'll file all day and filing makes me hungry. I don't know if I got enough vegetables for a full day of filing.”

“Bad idea. Howie works at a fast-?food place. You have no willpower when it comes to that stuff.”

“No problemo. I'm a changed woman. And anyway, I got my fill of fast food for the day. I had a good fast-?food breakfast.”

A half hour later, Lula and I parked in the McDonald's lot. Lula had gone through a bunch of celery and was halfway into a bag of carrots.

“This isn't doing much for me,” she said, “but I guess you gotta sacrifice if you want to be a supermodel.”

“Maybe you should wait in the car.”

“Hell no, I'm not missing out on the questioning. This could be an important lead. This Howie guy and Singh are supposed to be friends, right?”

“I don't know if they're friends. I just know Singh tried to find Howie the day before he disappeared.”

“Let's do it.”

As soon as I was through the door to the restaurant I spotted Howie. He was working a register and he looked to be in his early twenties. He was dark-?skinned and slim. Pakistani, maybe. I knew he was Howie because he was wearing a name tag. Howie P.

“Yes?” he asked, smiling. “What will it be?”

I slid a card across to him and introduced myself. “I'm looking for Samuel Singh,” I said. “I understand you're friends.”

He went immobile for a moment while he held my card. He appeared to be studying it, but I had a suspicion his mind wasn't keeping up with his eyes.

“You are mistaken. I do not know Samuel Singh,” he finally said, “but what would you like to order?”

“Actually, I'd just like to talk to you. Perhaps on your next break?”

“That would be my lunchtime at one o'clock. But you must order now. It is a rule.”

There was a big guy standing behind me. He was wearing a sleeveless T-?shirt, scruffy cutoffs, and mud-?clogged grungy boots.

“Gripes, lady,” he said. “You think we got all day? Give him your order. I gotta get back to work.”

Lula turned and looked at him and he moved to another register. “Hunh,” Lula said.

“I must take your order,” Howie said.

“Fine. Great. I'll have a cheeseburger, a large fries, a Coke, and an apple pie.”

“Maybe some chicken nuggets,” Lula said.

“No nuggets,” I told Howie. “What about Samuel Singh?”

“First, you must pay me for your food.”

I shoved a twenty at him. “Do you know where Singh is?”

“I do not. I am telling you I do not know him. Would you like extra ketchup packets with this cheeseburger? I have extra ketchup packets to give at my discretion.”

“Yeah, extra ketchup would be great.”

“If it was me, I would have gotten some chicken nuggets,” Lula said. “Always good to have nuggets.”