Hardcore Twenty-Four (Stephanie Plum 24)
“You were alone?”
“Lula was with me. We jumped into my car and took off. I was a short distance down Diggery’s road when this thing jumped out in front of me, and I bounced him off my right front quarter panel. I stopped and got out of the car, but the thing was gone. Lula was sure it was a zombie.”
“Did you think it was a zombie?” Morelli asked.
“It happened so fast that I barely saw it. Honestly, it could have been a velociraptor or a unicorn. Anyway, I got back into the car, and I was about to drive away when this man, for lack of a better word, came out of the woods and rushed the car. I’m no expert but it looked a lot like a zombie. Dirt-clogged hair, rotting skin, raggedy clothes. It grabbed the door handle, but I had the car locked.”
“And?”
“And I drove away. Fast. When I got to the office I looked at the car. There’s a dent and a gash in the right front quarter panel, and the cloth was caught in the ripped part.”
“And you think it was a zombie?”
“I think it looked like a zombie. And Lula said it smelled like a zombie.”
Morelli wiped his hands on a paper towel. “Let’s look at your car.”
We went outside, and Morelli walked around the Lexus.
“Ranger?” he asked.
“Yep.”
Ranger wasn’t Morelli’s favorite person for many reasons, not the least of which is my ongoing relationship with the man.
“Nice car,” Morelli said.
I nodded. “Except it has a dent in it.”
>
Morelli was on one knee, examining the dent and the torn fiberglass. “I don’t see any blood, but I’d like to have CSI go over this.”
“Sure.”
“And I’ll give them the cloth.”
“Do you think it was a zombie?”
“No,” Morelli said. “I also don’t think it was a velociraptor or a unicorn.”
“I need dessert. Do you have any ice cream?”
“Yes. Chocolate. Do you know what I need?”
“Yep,” I said. “I have a pretty good idea. Can I have my ice cream first?”
“As long as you eat fast.”
FIFTEEN
MORELLI SHOOK ME awake at six o’clock. The room was dark, and I wasn’t ready to start my day. It had been a long, satisfying, but exhausting night.
“I’m heading out,” he said. “I’m going to trade cars with you so CSI can take a look at yours.”
“They’re just going to look at the quarter panel, right?”
There was a beat of silence. “Something you want to tell me about the car?” he asked.