Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight (Stephanie Plum #28)(9)

“We might be in too much of a routine. Like, every Friday we have dinner with my parents.”

“Lucky you,” Connie said. “You don’t have to cook and then you get to take a bag of leftovers and Morelli home with you. It sounds good to me.”

The front door banged open and Lula marched in.

“Look at this,” she said, pointing at her hair. “How am I supposed to live with this?”

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked.

“It’s brown,” Lula said. “Have you ever seen me with brown hair? No. I’m supposed to have fabulous and outrageous hair. This hair is normal. Even the cut is normal. And do you know why I’m looking like this? It’s because my regular girl, Shanesha, left the salon and when I went in just now, I had to get my hair done by the new girl, Amy. I just don’t think anyone named Amy could understand my hair needs.”

“Okay, but the good news is that you don’t have a bat in it,” I said.

“That’s true,” Lula said. “You always gotta look at the good news. Do we have any good news besides the bat? How’s it going with Oswald Wednesday? Did you find him?”

“No,” I said, “but we have some leads. And Diesel said Oswald likes pain. I thought you might know some specialists.”

“I can ask around,” Lula said. “The S&M trade isn’t as profitable as it used to be, being that the world is so depressing most people are self-inflicting these days.”

I pulled the two new files out of my messenger bag. “I thought we could look for one of these guys. We’ve got a duck roaster and an indecent exposure. Pick one.”

“I’m up for the indecent exposure,” Lula said. “We always have good luck with them.”

I paged through the file. “Camden Krick. Self-employed. Lives in an apartment in Hamilton Township. Thirty-six years old. He looks average in his photo.”

“What’s his story?” Lula asked Connie.

“I don’t know,” Connie said. “He has no history. Vinnie wrote the bond, and Vinnie is in Miami doing an out-of-state felon pickup.”

“Maybe I should go home first and change my clothes,” Lula said. “I’m not put together right. My hair is all wrong for my clothes. I need lawyer clothes.”

“You’re not a lawyer.”

“No,” Lula said, “but this hair makes me look like a lawyer. And I can feel my brain synapses firing away under this hair. It’s like they aren’t distracted by fun and fashion.”

I hiked my messenger bag up on my shoulder. “I’m going after Camden Krick. Are you coming?”

“I suppose I am,” Lula said, “but I feel all discombobulated.”

I drove to a garden apartment complex in Hamilton Township and parked in a slot reserved for Krick’s apartment. He had a ground floor unit in the middle of a row of apartments.

“This is a nice place,” Lula said, “but it doesn’t have any personality. All the buildings look the same and there’s no landscaping. They should at least let people paint their front doors representative colors. Like, some people would want their door to be sunshine yellow and you’d know right off that you were going to like that person. Or if someone painted their door black and purple, you might not want to knock on that door. Or if you did knock, you would know to bring the occupant some antidepressants. There could be rainbow doors and doors painted to look like hemp. You see what I’m saying? This lawyer hair is making me feel real entrepreneurial. I’ve got a bunch of insightful ideas.”

“No doubt,” I said. “Let’s see if Krick is home.”

We left the car and walked the short distance to Krick’s boring front door. I rang the bell and a pleasant-looking man answered.

“Camden Krick?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

I showed him my identification. “I represent your bail bondsman. You missed your court date, and you need to reschedule.”

“I already did that,” he said. “I did it online.”

“You can’t reschedule online.”

“Are you sure? I’m almost positive I rescheduled online.”

“You have to reschedule in person at the courthouse,” I said. “Lula and I can expedite it for you, if you come with us. It’ll only take a couple minutes.”

This was totally bogus. He would have to post another bond, or they would keep him locked up until his new court date.

“This isn’t a good time for me,” he said. “You should have called ahead.”

“We hear that a lot,” Lula said.

I had cuffs in my hand. “We’re going to have to take you in, Mr. Krick.”

“I told you, this isn’t a convenient time. I have a job and I’m already late.”

“What kind of job?” Lula asked.

“I’m a professional mooner,” he said.

This grabbed Lula’s attention. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I have no shame. And I have a really cute behind. Do you want to see it?”

“No,” I said.

“I wouldn’t mind taking a look,” Lula said.

Krick dropped his pants and mooned Lula.