Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight (Stephanie Plum #28)(50)

He had me there.

“Keep your hands where I can see them and walk down the alley,” Oswald said.

“Which way?”

“To the right, toward town.”

Lula came out of the house and yelled at me. “Do you want me to lock the door?”

Oswald stepped out from behind my car, and Lula’s eyes almost popped out of her head when she saw him.

“It’s you!” Lula shouted. “Stay where you are, or I’ll shoot.” Lula was wearing a big cross-body hippie hobo bag. She had her hand in the bag, trying to locate her Glock, which was mixed in with her hair care products, makeup, a bottle of water, and all the other junk she needed to get through the day. She pulled the gun out and before she could fire, Oswald shot her, twice. Lula froze for a beat in stunned disbelief before crumpling to the ground.

I’ve never found the time for martial arts training, so what I lacked in skill I made up for with rage. I lunged at Oswald and took him down to the ground. We rolled around for a couple seconds, and he lost his grip on the gun. It skidded across the dirt road and we both went after it. I got there first, one-handed the gun, and fired a warning shot. Oswald got to his feet and ran. I fired again and tagged him in the arm. He spun around, grabbed his arm, and continued to run.

“That sonovabitch shot me,” Lula yelled. “Big woman down.”

I ran to Lula with my phone in my hand, calling 911.

“I see spots and stars,” Lula said. “I’m going. Lordy, this is it. I’m gonna die and I never even had a dog.”

“Where are you hit?” I asked. There was blood on her leg, her skirt, her hobo bag, her hands.

“I don’t know,” Lula said. “I can’t think. Okay, it’s my leg. It hurts like a bitch.”

“I’ve got help coming,” I said. “There’s a firehouse two blocks away. They should get here fast.”

“If I don’t make it, I’m leaving my wigs and special occasion clothes to you and Connie,” Lula said. “You can divide them up.”

“You’re going to make it,” I said. “I don’t see any gunshot wounds other than your leg.”

“Yeah, but I’m bleeding. I’m probably already down a quart.”

A Trenton cop car drove down the alley and two guys got out and ran toward us. I could hear a fire truck on the road in front of the house.

“Is that sirens?” Lula asked. “I must be in real bad shape if they’re using the sirens.”

I stepped back and let the first responders take over. I called Morelli and told him what happened. I got off the phone with Morelli, and Ranger called.

“Babe,” he said. “We got an alert that your car is parked in an active shooter area.”

“Lula got shot in the leg and the paramedics are taking care of her. I’m okay. I’ll stop by when I’m done here. Are you in your office?”

“Yes. I’ll be here for the rest of the afternoon.”

Diesel was next on my list. “We ran into Oswald at Charlotte’s house,” I said. “He shot Lula and tried to abduct me. I got the gun away from him and shot him in the arm, but he ran away.”

“Is Lula going to be okay?”

“Yes, I think so. He shot her in the leg. The paramedics are with her, and the place is crawling with police. Morelli is on his way. As soon as I’m done here, I’m going to talk to Ranger about housing Charlotte and Melvin. It’s too dangerous for them to stay with my parents.”

“I’ll poke around town and see if I can pick up Oswald’s scent.”

“One last thing. What’s your last name?”

“Diesel.”

“What’s your first name?”

“Diesel.”

“So, you’re Diesel Diesel?”

“I’m the last kid in a large family. My parents didn’t have a lot of time to think of a name.”

I hung up and thought the name suited him. He was big and powerful and hard to stop once he got going. An EMT truck drove in, and a stretcher got rolled over to Lula. I went to see how she was doing.

“This is because of my moon,” Lula said. “I’m not leaving my house until my juju changes. Did you get shot? No. Do you know why? It’s because you’ve got my good juju.” She looked up at the attendant. “What have you got in your bag for pain. I want it all. Load me up.”

I called Connie and gave her the short version. “They’re getting ready to put Lula in the truck and take her to the medical center,” I said. “Can you meet her there? I’d go with her, but I need to take care of Charlotte and Melvin.”

“I’m on it,” Connie said. “I’ll close up shop.”



* * *




Rangeman is located on a quiet side street in downtown Trenton. The seven-story building is unremarkable on the outside and a state-of-the-art security operation on the inside. I pulled into the underground garage and parked in one of Ranger’s primo spots by the elevator. I waved at the camera and pushed the elevator button for the fifth floor. The fifth floor holds the control room, a dining area, and private offices, one of which is Ranger’s.

I worked for Ranger for a short time, and I’ve occasionally stayed in his seventh-floor apartment, so I know my way around. I walked through the control room and made a fast stop in the dining area to grab a to-go chicken salad sandwich.