Top Secret Twenty-One (Stephanie Plum 21)

“What? Are you serious? You didn’t tell me anything.”

“This is why I’m not married,” Ranger said. “Women ask questions.”

“Unh!” I said, smacking my forehead with the heel of my hand. “That’s not why you’re not married. You’re not married because you’re … impossible.”

He dragged me to him and kissed me, and I felt the kiss travel like lava to my doo-dah.

“I have some issues to resolve,” he said.

No kidding.

He gave my ponytail a playful tug and left.

It was almost eight A.M. when I got to my parents’ house. Grandma was looking out the front door with her arms crossed over her chest, and Briggs was pacing on the sidewalk. His hair was a mess, and his shirt was stained and disheveled.

“Why are you out here?” I asked. “And what have you got all over your shirt?”

Grandma leaned out the open door. “It’s chocolate,” she said. “He woke up and snarfed down the cake. All of it. Your father went after him with a baseball bat. Lucky for Briggs it was your father’s duty time. You know how your father has to keep on schedule with his morning duties. Good thing you got here before he was done in the bathroom.”

“Somebody had to eat it,” Briggs said. “It was just sitting there.”

“The funeral is tomorrow morning,” Grandma said to me. “Are you going?”

“Maybe.”

“I hear there’s going to be undercover cops there in case Jimmy shows up. There might even be a shootout. I’m thinking I might wear my flak vest just in case.”

“You have a flak vest?”

“I got it a while ago from one of them home shopping shows on television. I thought you never know when you might need one. It’s navy, and it would look good with my navy pantsuit.”

I loaded Briggs into the Buick and drove him back to my apartment.

“Honestly,” I said. “Did you have to eat all the cake?”

“I got carried away. I was hungry.”

“I have things to do at the office. I’m going to drop you off so you can get cleaned up, and I’m going to pick you up later. I’m going to trust you to behave yourself.”

“I might take a nap. The cake made me sort of sick.”

“Do not take a nap in my bed.”

“I’ll take a shower first.”

“No! You can sleep on the couch. If I find any evidence, a single new wrinkle in my sheets, you’ll be sleeping in the parking lot.”

“Boy, you’d think I had cooties or something.”

“I’m sure you have cooties.”

I watched Briggs amble through the back door of my apartment building, gave a shudder, and headed for the office.

“Where’s half pint?” Lula asked when I walked in.

“I left him home. He was tired this morning.”

“I thought you didn’t trust him alone in your apartment.”