Eleven on Top (Stephanie Plum 11)
I felt a wave of nausea slide through my stomach. “We should secure this area until the police get here.”
Fifteen minutes later, the entire block was cordoned. Yellow police tape stretched everywhere and fire trucks and emergency vehicles were angled between police cars lights flashing. Banks of portable lights were going up to better see the scene. Macaronis from all parts of the Burg-were gathered in a knot to one side of the lot.
Morelli arrived shortly after the first blue-and-white, and he immediately whisked me away, lest I be torn limb from limb by Macaronis. He got the story, and then he stuffed me into his SUV with police escort. Forty-five minutes later, he returned and slid behind the wheel.
“Tell me again how this happened,” Morelli said.
“Lula and I were driving by and I saw the light on, so I thought I'd go in and try to get Lula's dry cleani
ng. Mama Macaroni was alone in the store, she pulled a gun on me, demanded the keys to the Saturn, and left through the back door. Moments later, I heard the explosion.”
“Good,” Morelli said. “Now tell me what really happened.”
“Lula and I broke in through the back door so we could steal her dry cleaning. Mama Macaroni was waiting for us, and the rest of the story is the same.”
“Definitely go with the first version,” Morelli said.
“Did they find the rest of Mama Macaroni?”
“Most of her. They're still looking through the bushes. Mama Macaroni covered a lot of ground.” Morelli turned the key in the ignition. “Do you want to go home with her?”
“Yeah. I'm a little creeped out.”
“I was hoping you'd want to go home with me because I'm smart and sexy and fun.”
“That, too. And I like your dog.”
“That car bomb was meant for you,” Morelli said.
“I thought my life would get better if I stopped chasing after bad guys.”
“You've made some enemies.”
“It's Spiro,” I told him.
Morelli stopped for a light and looked at me. “Spiro Stiva? Constantine's kid? Do you know this for sure?”
“No. It's just a gut feeling. The notes sound like him. And he was friends with Anthony Barroni. And now Barroni's dad is missing, and people say Anthony is spending money he shouldn't have.”
“So you think something's going on with Anthony Barroni and Spiro Stiva?”
“Maybe. And maybe Spiro's whacko and decided I ruined his life and now he's going to end mine.”
Morelli thought about it for a moment and shrugged. “It's not much, but it's as good as anything I've got. How do the other two disappearances fit in?”
“I don't know, but I think there might be one more.” And I told him about Kloughn's client. "And there's something else. Kloughn's client's husband disappeared in their brand-new car. Michael Barroni also disappeared in a
brand-new car."
Morelli slid a sideways look at me.
“Okay, so I know lots of people have new cars. Still, it's something they had in common.”
“Barroni, Gorman, and Lazar were the same age within two years, and they all owned small businesses. Does Kloughn's client fit that profile?”
“I don't know.”
Morelli turned a corner, drove two blocks, and parked in front of his house.