Turbo Twenty-Three (Stephanie Plum 23)

Lula reached over the seat with her stun gun and Winkle head-butted her. Lula knocked against me, I jumped the curb, and crashed into a streetlight. By the time I fought my way free of the airbag, Winkle had disappeared.

Lula and I got out and looked at my car. The front was smushed in where it’d hit the pole.

“It’s not so bad,” Lula said. “The wheels look okay. And so far as I can see it’s not leaking anything. You probably could drive it.”

I got behind the wheel, backed off the sidewalk, and slowly drove away.

“Just like new,” Lula said, “except for that big dent in the front and the mold smell coming from the backseat.”

“Winkle has a high bond. If I could bring him in I might be able to buy a car.”

“I could help you,” Lula said. “I’m good at picking out cars. And I got connections.”

“Winkle is out here somewhere,” I said. “Eventually he’ll go home. I’m going to ride around a little and then stake out his house.”

“I don’t think I can charm him again,” Lula said. “I got a headache. I bet I got a big bump on my forehead.”

“If we find him we won’t fool around. We’ll rush him, and stun him right away. After we get him trussed up like a Sunday goose I’ll call for help transporting him.”

“Remember how you told me it was illegal to stun gun someone?”

“Extenuating circumstances,” I said. “And we’re going to lie about doing it.”

“You bet your ass,” Lula said.

I was two blocks from the police station. A low-income residential neighborhood sat between Winkle’s Stark Street apartment and me. Streets followed no logical pattern, and it was easy to get lost in the maze of modest two-story houses that were smashed together on tiny lots.

“He had to cut through this mess of houses,” Lula said. “You need to turn here.”

After ten minutes I was completely confused.

“We’re going around in a circle,” Lula said. “I keep seeing the same houses.”

“I don’t know how to get out of here. It doesn’t matter if I turn left or right, I still get back to here.”

“You need to pull your map up.” Lula looked at my dashboard. “Hold on here. You haven’t got a map. You haven’t got no screen at all. How old is this car?”

I stopped at a cross street. “You should be able to get a map on your smartphone.”

“Okay, I have us on the map. We’re the little red dot. Looks to me that you turn right at the next street and go as far as you can until you come to a T intersection.”

I turned right at the corner, and half a block away it looked like King Kong was lumbering down the street.

“That’s Winkle!” Lula shouted. “Run him over.”

“I’m not going to run him over. I’m going to drive up behind him. We’ll jump out of the car and take him by surprise.”

“How about you?” Lula asked. “Do you have a stun gun with you?”

“It’s in my messenger bag.”

She got my stun gun out of my messenger bag and handed it over to me.

“Power up,” Lula said.

Winkle had freed himself from the plasti-cuffs and was ferociously huffing along, eyes focused forward. I jerked to a stop about twenty feet behind him. Lula and I jumped out and ran. I reached him first and tagged him with my stun gun. He turned and looked at me. Surprised.

“What the…” he said.