Plum Lucky (Stephanie Plum 13.50)

Delvina disconnected.

“Well?” Diesel said.

“They’re lost.”

“I know the feeling,” Diesel said. “I’m going upstairs, where I hope there’s some pizza and beer waiting for me.”

We all walked over to the back door, and when I reached it, I realized Doug had followed us.

“What are we going to do with Doug?” I said.

“Doug can stay in the RV,” Diesel said.

“Doug doesn’t want to stay in the RV,” Snuggy said. “He’s freaked out from the fire. Doug wants to stay with us.”

“Yeah, but this is an apartment building for people,” I said.

“Doesn’t it allow pets?”

“Not horses!”

“How do you know? Does it say that in your rental agreement? And anyway, you let Diesel stay here.”

“Diesel is housebroken.”

“So is Doug,” Snuggy said.

Doug was standing with his head down, looking pathetic, not putting any weight on his bad leg.

“Oh, for goodness sakes,” I said.

Snuggy, Diesel, Doug, and I got into the elevator, and I looked at the posted weight limit.

“How much does Doug weigh?” I asked Snuggy.

“About thirteen hundred pounds,” Snuggy said. “Don’t anyone breathe. I’m going to push the button. We only have to go up one floor.”

The elevator paused when it got to the second floor, and I prayed that the doors would open. I didn’t want to get caught in an elevator with a horse. The doors opened after a long moment, and we all paraded down the hall to my apartment. Flash had left a sack of grain, two buckets, two six-?packs of beer, three pizzas, and a duffel bag with Diesel’s and Snuggy’s clothes in front of my door.

We carried everything inside and closed and locked the door.

Snuggy poured some grain into a bucket for Doug and filled the second bucket with water. Diesel took one of the pizza boxes and a beer and settled himself in front of the television.

Some people can’t eat when the

y’re under stress. I get hungry when I’m nervous. I eat to fill the hollow feeling in my stomach. I sat next to Diesel and wolfed down pizza. I looked at the box and saw that it was empty.

“Are you going to eat the cardboard, too?” Diesel asked.

“Did I eat pizza?”

“Four pieces.”

“I don’t remember.”

“Take a deep breath,” Diesel said. He put his hands on my shoulders and kneaded. “Keep breathing,” he told me. “Try to relax. Your grandma’s going to be okay. We’re going to find her.”

I was warming under Diesel’s touch. The heat was working its way up my neck and down my spine. It wasn’t sexual. It was sensual and soothing. I could feel myself going soft inside. I could feel my heartbeat slowing.