Top Secret Twenty-One: A Stephanie Plum Novel by Janet Evanovich(73)

“Well, yeah,” Oswald said, smiling. “Of course I’m high. Miriam said you were going to ruin everything. She said nobody trusted you, and you were going to talk to the police, and that would be the end of the Manhattans and weed. So I said, ‘Don’t worry, Miriam, I’ll take care of him.’ ” Oswald looked around. “I’m starving, man. You have any chips, or something?”

“I ate all the chips,” Briggs said.

“Then I guess I have to kill you,” Oswald said. “So what do you have? Weed? Demerol? M&M’s?”

“How about a puppy?” Briggs said. “You could give it to Miriam.”

“Where?”

“Here,” Briggs said, pointing to the Chihuahuas sitting at his feet. “Pick one. They’re up for adoption.”

“They look like rats with big ears.”

“Watch what you say about my dogs,” Briggs said. “They’re very sensitive.”

“Sorry, man. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Miriam probably doesn’t want a dog right now,” I said. “She sort of burned her house down.”

“Yeah, she’s like living in the garage,” Oswald said. “It’s got air-conditioning and everything, but the cops took all the weed and rockets. It’s like such a bummer.”

“Jeez, this has been a terrific conversation,” Briggs said, “but I have stuff to do. And don’t worry about Miriam. I won’t bother Miriam.”

“Do you need a ride?” I asked Oswald.

“No. I got a car. I’m sort of supposed to be at work, but the kitchen’s loose, being that nobody else’ll work the fry station.”

I pointed Oswald in the direction of the elevator and closed and locked the door behind him.

“Boy,” Briggs said, “I didn’t see that one coming.”

“There’s no limit to your unpopularity.”

I called Morelli and told him to pick Oswald up in connection with the firebombings.

“I have to run,” Briggs said. “Bruce is probably already out there, and I don’t want to be late for my interview. This would be a great job. Can you lock up for me?”

“Sure. Good luck.”

I watched Briggs run down the hall and get into the elevator, and then I turned to the dogs.

“Okay,” I said, “try not to vibrate too much until Briggs gets back. You don’t want to go into a seizure or anything.”

I stepped into the hall, closed and locked the door, took five steps, and the dogs started yipping. Considering they were such small dogs, the yipping was pretty loud.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside. “You can’t make noise like that,” I said to them. “The neighbors won’t like it.”

They all settled down and calmly stared up at me with their bug eyes.

“All right, then,” I said.

I moved into the hall and closed the door, and instant yipping! I jumped back into the apartment, got the dog biscuits from the cupboard, and threw a bunch of them at the Chihuahuas.

I ran out of the apartment, got almost to the elevator, and the yipping turned into yelping.

Damn!

Five minutes later, the dogs were leashed and in the back of the Mercedes SUV. I drove to the office and brought the dogs in with me.

“What’s with the minions?” Lula asked.

“I’m babysitting.”

“Looks like you brought the little critters in a shiny new Mercedes,” Lula said. “We should take it to lunch.”

I looked at my watch. “It’s early for lunch.”

“Then we should take it to breakfast or brunch or whatever the hell. I woke up thinking about pizza. I don’t know what it is about the pizza at the pizza place in Buster’s building. I got a real craving for it.”





THIRTY-ONE


I TOOK LULA across town and parked opposite Buster’s building.

“It isn’t even eleven o’clock and already there’s a line here,” Lula said. “Ordinarily I don’t do lines, but this is different. I bet I could eat a whole pie. What kind are you going to get?”

“I’m going to skip the pizza. I just had a peanut butter sandwich. I’ll wait here with the critters.”

Lula got into line, and I relaxed in Ranger’s Mercedes. Vlatko was out of the picture. Ranger was safe. I was wearing my own underwear. Life was good.

A Camaro with tinted windows parked on the other side of the street, two doors down from Buster. The driver got out, walked to Buster’s door, unlocked the door with a key, and let himself in. The man was stocky. Black hair, dark skin. T-shirt and jeans. Hoodie over the T-shirt. Odd, since it was almost eighty degrees. My first thought was that he was hiding a gun. My second thought was that I needed a new life because lately I thought everybody was packing a gun, and I was usually right.

Lula hustled out of the pizza place with a big pizza box.

“Fresh out of the oven,” Lula said. “I had to pay extra for it because they said they were in a position where they had to pay extra for the herbs. Not that I care, because you know how important herbs are in pizza.”

She opened the lid and I looked at the pizza. It was spectacular.

“Maybe just one piece,” I said.