Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight (Stephanie Plum #28)(24)

I waved him and Bob away and I went into the kitchen for coffee.

“What disaster?” Melvin asked.

“Family birthday party,” I said. “Morelli’s Uncle Sergio.”

“Is he old?”

“Eighty.”

“I bet he’s cranky. The old people in my family are cranky.”

I ate a handful of cereal while I waited for my coffee. “How’s the hacking going?”

“Okay. It would be going faster if I had Clark to help me. We shared ideas.”

I passed the cereal box to him. “Help yourself to cereal. There’s milk in the fridge, and I just made coffee.”

“Good. My synapses need coffee.”

“I’m going to take a shower. I want to be at the hospital at eight o’clock to see Andy. You need to come with me. After Andy we’re going to stop at my parents’ house. They have an extra bedroom, and they might be willing to let you stay there.”

“I’m like a man without a country,” Melvin said.

“It’s temporary. As soon as we track down Oswald, you can go back to your loft.”



* * *




Andy was sitting up in bed eating breakfast when we walked into his room. He was hooked up to an IV, but he had color in his face, and he seemed happy to see us.

“I brought your Hemingway,” Melvin said, handing him the books in a plastic bag. “I was afraid they might disappear if I left them behind.”

“That’s a fact of life when you live in a park,” Andy said. “Things disappear all the time.”

“How are you feeling?” I asked him. “Was it food poisoning?”

“I’m feeling much better,” he said. “I’m getting fluids and some antibiotics. They think it was food poisoning, but it might not have been the rotisserie chicken. I tend to be lax about refrigeration. They thought it might have been the dead squirrel I found the day before. I had leftovers for breakfast.”

“I’m no kind of homemaker,” Melvin said, “but I know enough not to eat a dead squirrel.”

“Will you get discharged today?” I asked Andy.

“Not today,” he said. “Probably tomorrow.”

I stopped at the nurses’ station on the way out and told them I would be taking Andy home and needed to be notified when he was ready to leave. This was a small fib because I would actually be taking him to the courthouse to get a new court date. And probably he would remain in jail until he went before the judge. He secured his bail bond with a watch the first time around. I doubted he had anything valuable enough to secure a second bail bond.



* * *




My mom goes to Mass Friday night and Sunday morning. Grandma goes to bingo Friday night and the bakery on Sunday morning. This seems like the perfect arrangement to me because my mom’s devotion to God is rewarded by fresh baked jelly doughnuts when she comes home from church. This morning was no exception. Three white bakery boxes were open on the counter when I brought Melvin into the kitchen. I knew the contents without looking inside. One box contained assorted doughnuts. The second box was filled with Italian cookies. The third box held cannoli.

My mom and Grandma were huddled at the small kitchen table. The church and bakery partnership also worked from the point of view that multiple sources of gossip were superior to one.

“We were wondering if you would stop around this morning,” Grandma said to me. “I got an extra chocolate chip cannoli just in case. And we have enough for your guest.”

“This is Melvin Schwartz,” I said. “He’s helping me find an FTA.”

My mother was on her feet, getting two plates and napkins. “Help yourself,” she said to Melvin and me. “Would you like coffee?”

“What FTA is this?” Grandma wanted to know. “Is it Oswald Wednesday? I know you’ve been stumped by him.”

Melvin looked overwhelmed, not sure if he wanted a doughnut or a cannoli. I put one of each on his plate, added a couple cookies, and sat him at the table.

“I saw Joseph’s mother at church this morning,” my mother said to me. “She said you were going to Sergio’s party. Did you get a card?”

“No,” I said. “Do I need one?”

“I have a box of them. I’ll get one for you before you leave.”

“I think there’s more than meets the eye with Oswald Wednesday,” Grandma said. “He broke into a cop’s apartment. Who does that? And he’s from out of town.”

Melvin still had his computer case hung on his shoulder. He slipped it off and put it on the floor by his backpack.

“Is that your computer?” Grandma asked.

“One of them,” Melvin said. “I have another computer in my backpack.”

“Are you one of those IT people?”

“More or less,” Melvin said.

“Is that how you’re helping Stephanie?”

“More or less.”

“I’m pretty good at a computer,” Grandma said. “I’m good at tracking down criminals. I’ve had some experiences.”

“Melvin is looking for a place to stay while he helps me,” I said to my mom. “I was wondering if he could use my room for a day or two. He needs a quiet place to work.”