Finger Lickin' Fifteen (Stephanie Plum 15)

“This is a private cab. You have to get out.”

“But I called for a cab. And now here you are.”

“You didn’t call for my cab.”

Morelli and Gazarra had their arms locked across Lula’s back. They whisked her down the stairs and across the sidewalk without her feet touching once. They came up to the cab parked at the curb and looked inside.

“What’s going on?” Morelli wanted to know.

“He thinks I’m driving a cab.”

“Cupcake,” Morelli said, “you are driving a cab.”

“Yes, but . . . oh hell, just dump Lula in with him.” Morelli stuffed Lula into the backseat with the man, leaned through the driver’s side window and kissed me, and waved me away.

“Who’s this?” Lula asked.

“I’m Wesley,” the man said. “You can call me Wesley.”

“How come I’m in a cab with you?”

“I don’t know,” Wesley said. “This is a very strange cab company.”

“Hunh,” Lula said.

She slumped in her seat, put her head on Wesley’s shoulder, and fell asleep. Fifteen minutes later, I dropped Wesley at 200 Eldridge Road.

“How much do I owe you?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s free.”

“Thanks,” he said, giving me a dollar. “Here’s a tip.”

I turned around and drove Lula to my parents’ house. I made sure she got in the house and up the stairs, and then I drove to Rangeman. I parked the cab next to the Buick and took the elevator to the seventh floor. I looked in at Rex and said hello. Someone had given him fresh water and filled his food dish with nuts and vegetables and what looked like a tiny piece of pizza. I went to the bedroom, dropped my clothes on the floor, and crawled into bed.

I was just coming awake when a warm body slipped into bed next to me.

“What time is it?” I asked him.

“A little after seven A.M.”

He threw an arm and a leg over me and nuzzled my neck.

“I have just enough energy left to make both of us happy,” he said.

He kissed my shoulder and the pulse point in my neck. He got to my mouth and my cell phone rang.

“Ignore it,” he said.

It kept ringing.

“I can’t ignore it,” I told him. “I can’t concentrate.”

“Babe, I’m going to be so good to you, you won’t need to concentrate.”

I snatched at the phone. “What?”