Plum Lovin' (Stephanie Plum 12.50)

I took a closer look. “They must have used Photoshop. This is a horse wanger.”

“It says on the cover that it's all real and nothing's been retouched.”

I took my jacket off. “I guess I could spare a few minutes to make sure everything's authentic. Wouldn't want you getting wrong information. Go ahead and pop that bad boy into the DVD player.”

“It's eleven o'clock,” Jeanine said. “Almost lunchtime. Maybe we need a glass of wine to get through this.”

I agreed. This had all the earmarks of a movie that required booze.

Twenty minutes later, we were sipping wine and leaning forward, eyes glued to the screen.

“This is a car crash,” I said. “One of the worst movies ever made. And I can't tear myself away from it.”

“Yeah,” Jeanine said. “I might have to watch it again just to make sure I've got it all straight.”

The doorbell rang, and we both jumped.

Jeanine squeezed her eyes shut. “Please God, don't let it be my mother.”

“Does your mother live in the Burg?”

Jeanine hit the pause button. “She lives in Milwaukee.”

“So chances are good it's not your mother.”

“It was a gut reaction.”

Jeanine opened the door, and Grandma leaned to the side to see around Jeanine. She spotted me on the couch and gave a little finger wave.

“I knew that was your car out front,” Grandma said. “I'm on my way to the funeral home now that my lips have deflated enough so I can talk. Elaine Gracey is being laid out for a special noon viewing. Your father's off to the lodge with the car, so I had to walk and I'm about froze.” She gaped at the television screen where Big Chief and Vanessa Dickbender were frozen in full rut. “I bet you're watching cable,” Grandma said. “These reality shows just keep getting better and better. I wouldn't mind sitting down to watch some. Just until I get warmed up. Are you drinking wine? A glass of wine would be real nice.”

I heard a car door slam outside, and moments later Jeanine's bell rang again. Jeanine opened the door, and Lula looked in at us.

“I was driving by on my way back from church, and I saw the car and I thought I saw Grandma come in here,” Lula said. “Are you guys having a party? Dang, whose hairy ass is that on your television screen?”

“Big Chief,” Jeanine said.

“He's the best,” Lula said, taking her coat off, pushing in next to Grandma on the couch. “Are we having wine?”

Jeanine brought two more glasses and the bottle, and I hit the play button.

“Now see this here,” Lula said, watching Dickbender work over Big Chief. “I've done this lots of times, and she's doing it all wrong.”

“Lula was a professional,” Grandma told Jeanine. “She was the best on her corner.”

“Darn right,” Lula said. “I knew what I was doing.”

Jeanine filled Lula's glass with wine. “Maybe you could give me some pointers.”

“Sure,” Lula said. “I'm retired now, so I can share my secrets to being a successful 'ho. The thing is, you gotta get a good rhythm going. My signature move was to do it to 'Jingle Bells.' Everybody loves 'Jingle Bells.'” Lula beat out the rhythm on the coffee table. “Jingle bells. Jingle bells. Jingle all the way . . . unh!”

“Boy” Jeanine said, “this is just what I need to know.”

“Yep,” Lula said, “you just keep singing 'Jingle Bells,' and before you know it you can collect your fifteen dollars and leave.”

“I could do that,” Grandma said. “I can sing 'Jingle Bells,' and I could use an extra fifteen dollars.”

Vanessa Dickbender let out a shriek, and we all sucked in some air.