Look Alive Twenty-Five (Stephanie Plum 25)
“My moral compass is fine until you tamper with it.”
“Babe,” Ranger said.
* * *
¦ ¦ ¦
Carl drove me back to the bonds office. I retrieved my car and drove to my apartment building with Carl on my back bumper. I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t necessary for him to sit in my lot and wait for God-knows-what to happen, but I knew that was pointless. Carl took his orders from Ranger.
I had a bowl of cereal for dinner, and I texted Annie Gurky. I told her the pickup was set for tonight, and I would call her when it was completed. She texted back that she was very appreciative and would be waiting to hear. It was followed by a bunch of emojis. Hearts, happy faces blowing kisses, happy cat faces, hands clapping.
“Don’t worry,” I said to Rex. “This will be a piece of cake, and then I’ll come home and we’ll have a nice quiet evening together.”
Rex was burrowed in his soup can house, but I’m pretty sure he was listening.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LULA KNOCKED ON my door at nine o’clock.
“I’m all ready to go,” she said. “I got on my night-stalker clothes. I’m even wearing sneakers.”
She was wearing a black satin hoodie with HOT MAMA embroidered in pink on the back, a black sequined bustier, black tights stretched to the breaking point, and sneakers covered with silver glitter.
I was wearing a black Nike sweatshirt, a black T-shirt, jeans, and red sneakers.
?
??There’s a Rangeman SUV sitting in the parking lot next to your car,” Lula said. “I’m thinking as long as we can’t get rid of him we might as well use him as our wheelman. Be easier for us to make our getaway with him waiting for us.”
Lula had a point. I didn’t expect problems, but it might be a smoother operation with a dedicated driver.
We trooped down to the lot, and I looked in at the Rangeman guy.
“You’re not Carl,” I said.
“Carl went off duty. I’m Eugene. I’ll be with you for the rest of the night.”
“I have to pick up a cat for someone,” I said. “Would you mind driving us? It would make things easier.”
“Of course,” Eugene said.
Lula and I settled ourselves into the SUV, and I gave Eugene the address.
“I hope we’re doing the right thing,” I said to Lula.
“Of course, we’re doing the right thing,” Lula said. “We’re reuniting a mama and her kitty. We’re bringing poor Miss Muffy home where she belongs.”
“Let’s review the plan,” I said. “We quietly go to the back door. We get the door open, find the kitty, and put her in the carrier that’s left by the door. Then we calmly return to Eugene and drive off.”
“Yep, that’s the plan,” Lula said. “I got my door-unlocking tools with me, too, so we won’t have to kick it in.”
Eugene cruised down Freestone Street. It was strictly residential, and the street was traffic free at this time of night. Lights were on in most houses. Everything was quiet.
The scumbag’s house was dark. Eugene parked in front and cut his lights. Lula and I got out and quickly walked around the house to the back door.
“Do you think you can get this open?” I asked Lula.
“No problem,” Lula said. “Easy-peasy.”