Plum Spooky (Stephanie Plum 14.50)

“There isn’t cell service in some spots, so if you don’t hear back from me for a couple days, you should come get me.”

“I’ll make a memo on my calendar.”

I hung up, and Lula was shaking her head. “I swear, if I was gonna ask a favor of Ranger, it wouldn’t be to come rescue my ass. And I don’t believe he’s got a tracking device on your junk of a car. What’s that about?”

“He has them on all his fleet vehicles, and he puts one on mine because I sometimes work for him.” And because he cares for me … a lot. The caring is mutual, but Ranger, like Diesel, is out of my relationship comfort zone.

“So now what? Are we gonna go after Gail Scanlon?” Lula wanted to know.

“Yeah. I have a pretty good idea where she lives. We’ll start there.”

Lula had the map in front of her again. “You got an address?”

“Yup. It’s follow the dirt road.”

I TOOK ROUTE 206 to Marbury Road and turned left. Route 206 was a slower road than the Turnpike but more direct. Carl was happy in the backseat with a bucket of fried chicken parts. Lula had a bag of burgers and fries. I had a vanilla milk shake. I left Marbury Road, and my confidence level dropped. I was going as much on instinct as memory relieved when something looked familiar. I reached the dirt road and slowed. I didn’t want to create a dust cloud announcing my approach.

Lula peered through the Jeep’s small windshield. “Are you sure we’re in Jersey? This don’t look like Jersey to me. This don’t even look like America.”

“How much of America have you seen?” I asked her.

“In person or on tele vision?”

I crept around a stand of pines and saw the massacred faux bird bomb on the ground in front of me. Hooray. I was on the right path.

“This is as far as I got with Diesel,” I said to Lula. “We lost Gail Scanlon here.”

“You know how to get out of this hellhole, right?”

“Piece of cake.”

“I don’t like all these trees and no strip malls. It don’t seem normal.”

I followed the dirt road for a half mile and came to a fork. Both sides of the fork looked exactly the same. I got out of the car and examined the dirt like I was Tonto running point for the Lone Ranger.

“Well?” Lula asked.

I got back into the Jeep. I hadn’t a clue. ?

?Left,” I said.

“Boy, you’re good,” Lula said. “I didn’t see nothing in that dirt.”

Carl was on his feet in the backseat, peering over my shoulder, looking worried.

“What do you think?” I asked Carl. “Left?”

“Eeep,” Carl said.

I took the left fork, and after a while, I came to another fork in the road. And then another.

“All I can see is trees and sand,” Lula said. “It’s like the end of the world. There’s no sidewalks. Where’s the cement? And I haven’t got no bars on my cell phone. What’s with that? I don’t like being without bars.”

I looked at my phone. She was right. No bars. I hoped Diesel wasn’t trying to reach me.

“Maybe we should turn around,” Lula said. “I’m freaking. These trees are closing in on me. I need bars on my phone.”

“The road’s too narrow to make a U-?turn. I’ll turn as soon as it widens.”