Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight (Stephanie Plum #28)(65)

“I didn’t know you were military.”

“I’m not… exactly. Don’t ask.”

“Mercenary?”

“No. That would be a big cut in my pay grade, and I wouldn’t have an Ana.”

“Do you by any chance know someone named Gabriela Rose?”

“No. Should I?”

“It was just a thought that crossed my mind. There seemed to be similarities in your lifestyles, with the exception of fashion.”

Diesel came to the intersection of South Broad and East State Street.

“Turn right on State and take any parking place,” I said. “The building is on the first block, across the street.”

“Easier said than done,” Diesel said, struggling to parallel park. “This car is a beast.”

We got out of the car and Diesel looked at me. “If we leave the key in the ignition, someone might steal it.”

“No doubt,” I said. “It’s a classic in primo condition. And no, we aren’t going to leave the key in the ignition. Big Blue belongs to Grandma.”

“Does she drive it?”

“She doesn’t drive anything. She had her license taken away. Permanently.”

“Vehicular homicide?”

“She likes to go fast, and she demolished a police car. Fortunately, no one was in it.” We crossed the street and I stopped in front of the building. “This is it.”

Many of the buildings in this part of town were multiple use. Retail businesses on the ground floor and condos or professional offices on the upper floors. This particular building was all offices. We went into the lobby and looked at the directory on the wall. Four floors. The first floor was dedicated to a dentist and an insurance company. All other floors were occupied by a variety of businesses.

We started canvassing on the second floor. We’d open the door and look inside. If someone was in there we’d step in, show them the photo of Oswald, and ask if they’d seen him. If the door was locked, Diesel would open it. We did the top three floors and got a big zero.

We’d saved the dentist office on the first floor for last because neither of us wanted to go into the dentist office. The receptionist immediately recognized Oswald.

“He was here a couple days ago,” she said. “He was a new client. He lost a filling, and we were able to squeeze him in.”

“Did he give you an address? A phone number?” I asked.

She checked back through her appointments. “Here he is,” she said. “Oliver Welk. He lives on Dugan Street.” She wrote the address and phone number on a sticky note and handed it to me. “I’m a big fan of the police,” she said. “They rescued my cat from a storm sewer last year.”

I gave her a thumbs-up and Diesel and I left the building.

“Does anyone ever question your badge?” Diesel asked.

“Almost never. A lot of people who have no experience with bail bonds assume it’s part of the sheriff’s office.”

Diesel dialed the number on the sticky note. He smiled and hung up. “That was the number for the DMV.”

“Oswald came out of the building and turned left before we started to chase him,” I said.

We walked left and covered two blocks with no success at spotting Oswald. The drizzle had stopped but the sky was overcast and there was a chill in the air.

“Whose dumb idea was this?” Diesel asked.

“It was your dumb idea. You wanted to circle back to the office building.”

“I’ve circled enough.”

“Okay, do you have any other dumb ideas you want to try?” I asked him.

“There’s still the Use Stephanie as Bait idea.”

“I can’t get excited about that.”

“I’m starting to lean toward letting Oswald pull the plug on the grid at midnight and then he’s the feds’ problem,” Diesel said.

“What about Auntie?”

“Auntie would be unhappy.”

“Is she really your aunt?”

“Only in the broadest sense that she might be human,” Diesel said.

“And she’s your boss?”

“She’s everyone’s boss.”

We’d been walking while we were talking and now were back at the Buick.

“We need a car,” Diesel said. “I always thought it would be fun to own a muscle car, until I drove this.”

“I imagine Ana is working on it.”

I needed an Ana. More than that, I needed a fast infusion of cash so I could buy another crappy car.

Lula called. “You gotta come rescue me,” she said. “I can’t take another day being locked away up here. I’m getting claustrophobic. And I’m getting left out of stuff. I don’t know what’s going on, and somebody probably ate my doughnut.”

“It’s only been one day.”

“Yeah, but I’m a people person. I’m gregarious. Where are you? What are you doing?”

“I’m in town with Diesel and we’re not doing anything.”

“I heard your car got exploded. Are you driving around in Diesel’s cool Bronco?”

“No. That got exploded, too. I’ve got the Buick.”

“Well, I can’t be driven around in the Buick all day. It’s got no sound system. You need to get another car. Come and get me, and we can go shopping.”