Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight (Stephanie Plum #28)(41)

A tear rolled down Mary Jane’s cheek. “I’ve got too many hormones. I’m a mess. It’s not easy having a baby and I’ve pushed out four of them.”

“I never pushed out a baby,” Lula said. “I had hemorrhoids once and that wasn’t a treat.”

“And look at my hair. Look at my nails,” Mary Jane said. “I haven’t had a salon appointment since before the baby was born. My breasts leak milk when I walk past the baby food section in the supermarket. A woman shouldn’t be expected to be rational in this condition.”

“The thing is, you missed your court date,” I said to Mary Jane. “We have to take you downtown so you can reschedule.”

“Okay,” Mary Jane said. “When?”

“Now?”

“Are they going to take my picture again? Can you do it without me?”

“No and no,” I said.

“I don’t have a babysitter.”

“Lula can babysit,” I said.

“Say what?” Lula said.

“I’ll call Connie. We can pick her up on the way and immediately get you bonded out again.”

“I guess that would be okay,” Mary Jane said, “as long as I can take the baby. She’s due for a feeding.”

Connie had the office locked and was waiting at the curb when I drove up in Mary Jane’s minivan. We went straight to the court and a half hour later we were back on the road to rescue Lula. I stopped for a light in town and spotted someone who looked like Oswald a block away. He’d cut his hair, but I was pretty sure it was him. Under any other circumstances I would have gone after him, but the baby was fussing in its car seat and Mary Jane was on the phone with Lula explaining how to change Ethan Dale’s diaper.

“Make sure he’s clean,” Mary Jane said. “Use the baby wipes, and if he’s irritated you can put some baby butt salve on him.”

I called Diesel and gave him the news. “I think Oswald is still in Trenton,” I said. “I just saw someone who looked like him. He was walking down State Street, a block from South Broad. The guy I saw had short hair, but he still resembled Oswald.”

“I’m on my way,” Diesel said. “I talked to Melvin right after you left. He’s trying to hack in again, and he gave me what he downloaded just in case there is something legit in it.”

“Morelli got bad news on his national inquiry. Three more victims. Same MO. All out of state.”

“Three problems off our desk,” Diesel said. “Catch you later.”



* * *




Ethan Dale and Benjamin Ryan were watching television when we walked into Mary Jane’s house. Lula was wearing rubber gloves, and she had Lucky Charms stuck in her hair. Considering her latest color and style, I thought the Lucky Charms were an okay addition.

“I’m understanding why you shot up the bakery,” Lula said to Mary Jane. “You had every right to do that. I’ve never seen anything like what was in that diaper. It smelled terrible. It was a smell I’m never gonna be able to forget. I’m gonna have nightmares.”

“You get used to it,” Mary Jane said.

“Nuh ah, honey. Not me. If I have a baby, it’s not getting born until it’s at least ten years old.”

Lula stripped off her rubber gloves and handed them over to Mary Jane and we headed for the door.

“Your new court date is Friday,” I said to Mary Jane. “Connie will call to remind you.”

We got into my car and Lula powered her window down. “I need air,” she said. “I need aromatherapy. I swear to God, I looked for a hazmat suit, but I couldn’t find one.”

“It looks like you gave them a snack.”

“Cereal and gummy bears. They got into an argument over who had more. The two-year-old threw some at his brother and then the big kid threw some at the little kid and then the little kid pooped his pants and that was the end of it.”

I didn’t have any of those problems with a hamster. My life was almost perfect.

“I think I saw Oswald in town when I was on the way back from the courthouse. I couldn’t stop but I thought we could go back and look around.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lula said. “And I’m glad you didn’t stop because if I had to last much longer, I might have felt like shooting up a bakery. Except I wouldn’t take out the éclairs. That’s the thing about rage. You gotta have selective rage. You don’t shoot things that are valuable like people and éclairs. If you gotta shoot up something, you go for the gluten-and dairy-free zucchini bread. Vegans always give you a pass.”

“Something to remember.”

“You bet your ass.”

I drove out of the Burg, crossed the railroad tracks, and took South Broad to State Street. Two blocks in I saw Oswald exit an office building and turn left. I got as close to him as possible, pulled to the curb, and parked in a no-parking zone. Lula and I jumped out of my car and ran for Oswald.

Lula was clattering down the sidewalk in her five-inch heels, waving her gun and shouting, “Stop, or I’ll shoot” to Oswald. Oswald looked over his shoulder at us and took off.

“No shooting,” I yelled at Lula.

“Don’t worry,” she yelled back, “I got him in my sights.”