Turbo Twenty-Three (Stephanie Plum 23)

Howie ran the footage back. “What I got is Grandma on camera saying it’s a pussycat.”

“Maybe we could put a sex spin on it,” Lula said.

“It’s Grandma,” Howie said. “We’re not supposed to see her or hear her. You ever hear or see any of the crew on the real show? No! It’s gotta look like people are out there alone…naked and afraid.”

“You told me to light their faces,” Grandma said. “How am I supposed to do that if I don’t move in?”

“You put the light on the cat,” Howie said.

Grandma narrowed her eyes and stood her ground. “I thought people would want to see it.”

“Could we get on with this?” Briggs said. “I’m getting cold. Between the cat fiasco and the night air I’m getting shrinkage.”

“Gee, look at the time,” I said. “I have to be running along with Grandma now. I promised my mom. And Morelli is waiting for me. We wouldn’t want Morelli to come out here to get me. He might have to arrest the naked people.”

“Who’s going to work the flashlight if I leave?” Grandma asked.

“It’s gonna be a problem. We got a skeleton crew,” Howie said. “Give your flashlight to the makeup ’ho. I guess she can do it.”

Grandma handed the flashlight over and followed me to my car.

“Sorry I had to ruin your night,” I said to Grandma, “but Mom was worried about you.”

“It’s okay,” Grandma said. “The flashlight was running out of batteries anyway. It was getting real dim. And if you ask me I don’t think anybody back there knows what they’re doing.”

• • •

I dropped Grandma off and returned to Morelli.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“Mission accomplished. Grandma’s home safe and sound. Anything interesting happen here?”

“No, but if you didn’t show up soon I was going to start without you.”

“After seeing Lula and Briggs in the altogether I’m not feeling especially romantic.”

“Cupcake, when you see what I’ve got to show you it’ll all be forgotten.”

“That sounds promising.”

“The first thing we have to do is get your clothes off.”

“Wait a minute,?

? I said. “I thought you were going to show me what you’ve got.”

“Even better,” Morelli said.

He got rid of his shoes and socks, stripped off his shirt, and shucked his jeans. He was wearing blue plaid Calvin boxers. He cuddled me up close against him and let me look inside the Calvins. He was right. Poof! No more Briggs.

FOURTEEN

MORELLI WAS GONE by the time I made my way to the kitchen Friday morning. I was supposed to meet Ranger at eight o’clock. That meant I had to leave my apartment at seven-thirty at the latest. I wasn’t sure how to dress so I’d chosen dressy black jeans, a blue V-neck sweater, a black blazer, and black Skechers. It was one of my go-to outfits when I worked for Rangeman. I gave Rex fresh water and a couple hamster crunchies. I looked at my watch. It was seven-thirty. I grabbed my messenger bag and a frozen waffle and took off.

Ranger was waiting in his Cayenne, toward the back of the Mo Morris Ice Cream lot. I parked beside him, and we both got out to talk.

“How’s this going to happen?” I asked him. “I hear it’s impossible to get a job here. No one ever quits.”