Hardcore Twenty-Four (Stephanie Plum 24)

“I guess that explains some of it,” Morelli said. “How long do you expect to be in Florida?”

“No longer than necessary. My hope is that I’ll catch up with Grandma at the connecting flight. If I get to her in time we might be able to make a ni

ne o’clock plane back to Newark. If I don’t get to her in time, I’ll have to hunt her down in Key West.”

“What if Grandma doesn’t want to come home?”

“I’ll bribe her with a puppy.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Morelli said. “Good luck.”

I checked my email and Facebook page, ate a bag of M&M’s, and dozed in the waiting area until my plane boarded. There were a lot of strange people in the airport, but none that looked like a zombie. So it was all good.

The flight was uneventful, and we landed on time. I went to the gate for the Key West connection and found Grandma on a bench in the lounge.

“For goodness’ sakes,” she said when she saw me. “This is a surprise. Are you going to Key West? I didn’t know you were planning a trip.”

“Mom was worried about you and sent me to make sure you were okay.”

“Of course, I’m okay. I’m just dandy. My Key West boyfriend invited me to a party at his seniors club.”

Eeeek. “I need to talk to you about that club.”

“He said they had some fun activities, and I figured since Willie Kuber turned out to be a dud I might as well see what Roger Murf is about.”

“I got the background check on Murf. He’s married. And the seniors club is for swingers.”

“The married part is a disappointment,” Grandma said. “Did you get a picture?”

I pulled the photo out of my messenger bag and handed it over to her. “The woman is his wife, Miriam.”

Grandma studied the photo. “He’s no George Hamilton.”

“Only George Hamilton is George Hamilton.”

Grandma nodded. “George Hamilton is a good-looking man. This Roger Murf isn’t doing it for me. And since Roger Murf is one of those swingers, I’m thinking he only wanted me for my body,” Grandma said.

“He wanted you for Mom’s body.”

“Technically that’s true, but a senior citizens’ swingers club might not be too picky. I bet I could pull it off. I might have to get one of them Brazilian wax jobs. I hear they’re painful. And when they’re done with you, you’re bald down there.”

“How about a puppy? Why don’t we go home and get a puppy?”

“That would beat the heck out of a swingers party,” Grandma said.

“Okay, it’s settled. If we hurry, we can get back to United in time for a flight to Newark and then we can get the puppy first thing in the morning.”

“I’m going to name him Henry,” Grandma said.

• • •

It was after midnight when we deplaned in Newark. The airport shops and restaurants were closed, and the corridors were mostly empty. Grandma had a small carry-on bag, and I had nothing other than my messenger bag. We bypassed the checked baggage carousels and walked through the terminal directly to short-term parking. I found Big Blue and was confronted with the reality that I’d parked in short-term all day. Between the airfare and the parking, it had been a costly night. And tomorrow I was going to have to buy Grandma a puppy!

It was a long, quiet drive in the dark back to Trenton. I’d texted my mom and told her I was bringing Grandma home. I didn’t tell her about the puppy.

Lights were still on in my parents’ house when I pulled to the curb. My mom was waiting up for Grandma.

“Thanks for going all that ways to tell me about the Murfs,” Grandma said. “It’s probably just as well I didn’t go to the party. I don’t know if I want to look at a bunch of naked old people. It would be different if it was those Chippendales men.”