Eleven on Top (Stephanie Plum 11)
“To get my cleaning. What do you think?”
“I think we should give up on the cleaning and send out for a pizza. Aren't you hot in that ski mask?”
“That Mama Macaroni got my favorite sweater. I need that sweater. And on top of that it's the principle of the thing. It's just not right. I was a hundred percent in the right. I'm surprised at you wanting to let this go. Where's your crusading spirit? I bet Ranger wouldn't let it go. And you got to get your car, anyway. How're you gonna get over there to get your car if you don't go with me?”
My car. Mental head slap. I'd forgotten about the car.
Ten minutes later, we were idling across the street from Kan Klean. “It's nice and dark tonight,” Lula said. “We got some cloud cover. Not a star in the sky and it looks like someone already took out the streetlight.”
I looked at Lula and grimaced.
“Hey, don't give me that grimace. I expected you'd compliment me on my shooting. I actually hit that freaking lightbulb!”
“How many shots did it take?”
“I emptied a whole clip at it.” Lula cut the engine and pulled her ski mask back over her head.
“Come on. Time to rock and roll.”
Oh boy.
We got out of the Firebird and waited for an SUV to pass before crossing the street. The SUV driver caught a glance at Lula in the ski mask and almost jumped the curb.
“If you can't drive, you shouldn't be on the road,” Lula yelled after him.
“It was the mask,” I said. “You scared the crap out of him.”
“Hunh,” Lula said.
We got to the store and Lula tried the front door. Locked. “How many other doors are there?” she asked.
“Just one. It's in back. But it's a fire door. You'll never get through it. There aren't any windows back there either. Just a couple big exhaust fans.”
“Then we got to go in through the front,” Lula said. “And I don't mind doing it because I'm justified. This here's a righteous cause. It's not every day I can find a sweater like that.” She turned to me. “You go ahead and pick the lock.”
“I don't know how to pick a lock.”
“Hell, you were the big bounty hunter. How could you be the big bounty hunter without knowing how to pick a lock? How'd you ever get in anywhere?”
She stood back and looked at the store. “Ordinarily I'd just break a window, but they got one big-ass window here. It's just about the whole front of the place. It might look suspicious if I broke the window.”
Lula ran across the street to the Firebird and came back with a tire iron.
“Maybe we can pry the door open.” She put the tire iron to the doorjamb and another car drove by. The car slowed as it passed us and then took off.
“Maybe we should try the back door,” Lula said.
Stephanie Plum 11 - Eleven On Top
SIX
We went around to the back and Lula tried to wedge the tire iron under the bolt. “Don't fit,” she said. “This door's sealed up tight.” Lula gave the door a whack with the tire iron and the door swung open. “Will you look at this,” Lula said. “Have we got some luck, or what?” “I don't like it. They always lock up and set the alarm.” “They must have just forgot. It was a traumatic day.” “I think we should leave. This doesn't feel right.” “I'm not leaving without my sweater. I'm close now. I can hear my sweater calling to me. Soon's we get inside I'll switch on my Maglite, and you can work that gizmo that makes the clothes go around, and before you know it we'll be outta here.”
We both took two steps forward, the door closed behind us, and Lula hit the button on the Maglite. We cautiously walked past the commercial washers and dryers and the large canvas bins that held the clothes. We stopped and listened for sirens, for someone else breathing, for the beeping of an alarm system ready to activate.
“Feels okay to me,” Lula said.
It didn't feel okay to me. All the little hairs on my arm were standing at attention, and my heart was thumping in my chest.