Turbo Twenty-Three (Stephanie Plum #23)(32)

“That would be everyone. Bogart runs a very loosey-goosey operation. Everyone has access to everything.”

“I have the list of new hires,” Ranger said. “There are only three in the appropriate time period.”

I looked at the list. Gina Slater was hired and placed on the line six months ago. Maureen Gooley joined the housekeeping crew at about the same time. William (“Butchy”) Boone was placed on the loading dock a little over a year ago.

“I’d like to see more on Boone,” I said to Ranger.

“I’ll have a full report sent to you. Tomorrow Bogart’s plant production line is closed. CSI will be crawling all over it. The only one working will be the Jolly Bogart clown. You can ride along with him.”

I slid a glance at the door to the plant. “It’s sort of a mess in there. One of the machines malfunctioned.”

“That would explain the ice cream all over your orangeness.”

I looked down at myself. “There was no big red button.”

“Babe.”

I ditched the orange suit and explained to Vicky that I’d been reassigned. She gave me a pint of ice cream and said everyone would miss me and they were sorry I couldn’t stay longer. She made an admirable effort, but underneath it all I knew she was relieved to see me go. I mean, really, who wouldn’t be?

I took my ice cream to my car, chugged out of the Mo Morris Ice Cream parking lot, and drove to the office.

“I thought you were at Mo Morris today,” Lula said when I walked through the door.

“It didn’t work out, but I got some ice cream.”

“That’s my kind of job,” Lula said. “Work a couple hours and get some ice cream. What flavor?”

“Vanilla.”

“I like vanilla,” Lula said.

I got spoons for Lula, Connie, and me, and we finished off the ice cream.

“How’d it go last night?” I asked Lula.

“It went pretty good. There were a couple things that didn’t go exactly right . . . like when we were supposed to find shelter for the night and we picked a abandoned building and Randy got bit by a rat.”

“Omigod!”

“At least we think it was a rat. It was dark, and we couldn’t get a good look at it. It was one of them bite-and-run things. It didn’t sound big enough to be a crackhead.”

“Is Randy okay?”

“Yeah, he was all hysterical for a while, but he calmed down after we took him to the clinic and got him a shot.”

“Anything else go wrong?”

“While we were making our way to our final destination and going around the block someone stole Howie’s van. We should have seen that one coming. It wasn’t as bad as it might have been on account of it turns out Howie stole it in the first place. It’s just that it had all our clothes in it.”

“How’d you get home?”

“We called a Uber car but it wouldn’t let us in naked, so me and the makeup ’ho walked over to Stark Street, and the makeup ’ho traded some services for a ride.”

“Good thing you had a makeup ’ho on the team,” Connie said.

“Truly,” Lula said. “Otherwise I might have had to come out of retirement.”

“But you got your demo film, right?” I asked.

“Yeah. Howie is editing it for us and then we’ll send it in. We got some real good stuff on it. Those Naked and Afraid people would be nuts not to sign Randy and me up for their show, but just in case they don’t like this reel I got a backup idea. Naked bungee jumping. I figure we could go off the bridge over the Delaware. The one that says ‘Trenton Makes, and the World Takes.’ ”

Connie and I were mouths open, eyes glazed. I actually felt my mind go numb for a beat.

“I bet nobody’s sent them a demo for naked bungee jumping,” Lula said.

My cellphone buzzed with a text message. It was from Sharelle. Just saw Winkle having lunch in Fat Dave’s.

“Saddle up,” I said to Lula. “Eugene Winkle is in Fat Dave’s.”

“And?” Lula said.

“And we’re going to bring him in.”

“How are you gonna do that? You got an elephant gun? You got Ranger in the trunk of your car?”

“I have you. I’m going to send you into Fat Dave’s and you’re going to charm Winkle.”

“That might not be a bad idea,” Lula said. “I am charming. I could charm the ass off him.”

“Exactly. And then we convince him that once we get him rebonded he’s going to have a really good time.”

“He might even know my reputation,” Lula said. “I was known for doing quality work back in the day. Of course, we aren’t really going to show him a good time. Unless he got some hot qualities. Then I might think about it.”





FIFTEEN


FAT DAVE’S IS a hamburger joint on the second block of Stark. It’s dark and dingy and has grease running down the walls. It also makes the best burgers in Trenton.

I was on Stark, looking for a parking place, hoping I wasn’t too late to catch Winkle.

“You know the secret to Fat Dave’s burgers?” Lula said. “It’s duck fat. Not many people know that on account of it’s a secret. He slicks his griddle up with duck fat, and it imparts that excellent gamey taste. And then he uses extra salt. Salt brings out the flavor of shit.”