Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight (Stephanie Plum #28)(67)

“How much money do you have?”

I did some fast calculations. I just got some decent recovery money for Lucca. The mooner, the bakery smasher, and the duck roaster were all small change, but they added up.

“Four thousand and thirty-five dollars,” I said.

“You’re in luck,” he said. “That’s what this car cost. Congratulations.”

“You’ve got a nice variety of cars here,” Lula said to Eddie. “You’ve even got some luxury cars.”

“There’s a market for the high end,” Eddie said. “I sold a Porsche this morning already.”

That caught my attention. I knew someone who might be in the market for a new car that could be purchased under the radar.

“I know someone who was looking to buy a Porsche,” I said. “His name is Oswald Wednesday.”

“That’s the dude,” Eddie said. “Is he a friend?”

Lula stepped forward. “Not exactly,” she said. “We’ve been looking for him. He owes us some money, if you know what I mean.”

Eddie gave his head a shake. “That’s what happens when you don’t have a negotiator working on your behalf. That would never have happened if you were on my team.”

“Are you still actively negotiating?” Lula asked him.

“No. I gave that up. It’s a young man’s game. I’m all about the car lot now. And I have part interest in the auto body.”

“I wouldn’t mind having some information on Oswald Wednesday,” Lula said.

“I’ll give you what I have,” Eddie said.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


I drove the Buick back to my parents’ house and Lula followed me in my new CR-V. I ran in to tell Grandma I brought her car back and Lula hobbled after me.

Grandma and my mother were at the kitchen table. Grandma was playing a game on her laptop and my mother was knitting.

“Look at you up and around,” Grandma said to Lula. “I heard you got shot.”

“Twice,” Lula said. “In the leg.”

“Is that the bulge in your tights?” Grandma asked. “Is it all bandaged?”

“Yeah,” Lula said. “Do you want to see?”

Grandma leaned forward and Lula pulled her tights down so Grandma could see the bandage and the stitches on the lesser wound.

“That’s a beauty,” Grandma said. “It looks like they did a good job with the stitches, too. That’s important so they don’t leave a scar. And I see you’re wearing one of them thongs. I tried wearing a thong a while back, but I got hemorrhoids from it.”

“My booty was made for a thong,” Lula said. “They fit just right on me on account of I got a lot of cheek. That’s the secret to being a successful thong wearer.”

“I brought the Buick back,” I said. “I was able to get another car.”

My mother’s thing was in a massive heap on the floor at her feet.

“How long is your thing?” I asked.

“Twenty-seven feet,” my mother said.

“It’s nice you got a hobby,” Grandma said to my mother, “but it’s taking up half the kitchen. You’re gonna have to find a new place to knit.”

“It’s not a hobby,” my mother said. “It’s my destiny.”

“You made more sense when you were hitting the hootch,” Grandma said.

“Are you and Joseph going to be here for dinner?” my mom asked.

I did a mental head slap. It was Friday. Date night. And I had Diesel sleeping in my bed. Plus, I was looking at a countdown to Trenton going dark at midnight.

“Maybe,” I said. “I have a lot going on. Probably you shouldn’t count on me.”

“Good thinking,” Grandma said. “It could be a skimpy dinner unless we figure out how to eat the thing.”

Lula and I got back to my Honda and I called Diesel.

“I’m texting information to you on Oswald’s new car,” I said. “It’s a three-year-old black Porsche Panamera with tinted windows. I’ve also got the plate number for you. He got the plate when he bought the car.”

“Do you suppose the plate was made in someone’s basement?”

“It’s possible it was taken off someone else’s car.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I bought a car from the same guy who sold the Porsche to Oswald.”

“That’s my girl,” Diesel said. “I bet you got a bargain.”

“The car salesperson used to arrange business meetings for one of Lula’s friends from a previous life.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open. I’m staking out State and South Broad.”

I called Morelli and gave him the same information. “I might not be able to do date night tonight,” I said. “I need to keep searching for Oswald. Let’s reschedule date night for tomorrow.”

Lula had polished off two doughnuts while I was gone and she’d focused her attention on the chicken and biscuits.

“I’m in a mood to sniff out that loser Oswald,” she said. “I’m pretty sure my moons are lined up again and I got my juju back from you, being that you destroyed two cars in one day. That’s like old times.”