Fortune and Glory (Stephanie Plum #27)(50)

“I think there’s a big black car following us,” Potts said. “When you drove past the Mole Hole just now, it came out of the lot. It’s hard to tell, but I think the two guys in front are the ones who shot at us.”

I pulled up my back camera and saw the Escalade was two car lengths behind me. So much for being hidden in Ranger’s stealth Honda. I turned toward the center of the city, where I knew I could count on traffic and lights. The Escalade turned with me. I right-turned into heavy traffic and they had to drop back by four or five cars. I ran a yellow light and they were stopped on the red.

“Hah!” Lula said. “Amateurs.”

They weren’t amateurs. They were unlucky. And they weren’t tailing me for surveillance. They would have rammed me from behind or passed me and cut me off. And then when I was stopped, they would have yanked me out at gunpoint.

I turned right and a block later I turned right again and made my way to Pino’s. I arrived just as my order came out of the kitchen. Lunchtime and late at night, Pino’s was a cop hangout, but I didn’t see anyone I knew today. Just as well, since I was feeling awkward walking in with my posse. It wasn’t as if we were going to eat at a table. This was three people coming in to carry out one bag.



* * *




I ate my lunch at the office, finishing it in record time. “I’m off the clock,” I said. “I have things to do?”

“What kind of things?” Potts asked. “What are we going to do?”

“We are not doing anything,” I said. “I have things to do. And I imagine you have things to do. You’re probably way behind on your game with Mugman’s princess.”

“Do you want me to guard your door?”

“No. Thank you for offering, though.”

“What about the viewing tonight?”

“I’m going with Grandma and I’ll be perfectly safe because I’m sure she’ll be packing. Besides, no one hardly ever gets shot at a viewing. That’s usually reserved for the funeral.”

“You don’t want to go to the viewing, anyway,” Lula said to Potts. “You’ll have an attack from the lilies.”

“That’s true,” Potts said.

“Do you want me to drop you off someplace?” I asked him.

“No,” he said. “I’m going to stay here and read Lula’s new STAR magazine. I can walk home.”

I drove back to my apartment building, watching for a tail, thinking about the three clues. I did a slow ride around my parking lot, making sure no one was hiding behind or sitting in a car. No blue pickup and no black Escalade. I marched into the building, took the stairs, and peeked into my hallway. Empty. Yay. I let myself into my apartment and listened. No heavy breathing. No clothes rustling. That was a good sign. I threw the bolt on my door and did a fast walk-through. No monsters lurking under the bed. No zombies in the closet. I went back to the kitchen and looked in on Rex.

“This is no way to live,” I said to Rex. “I’m starting to understand Potts… waiting for diarrhea to strike.”

I went to my dining room table and opened my laptop. Since the clues began with a card reference, I ran a search for casinos in Philadelphia. Two racetrack casinos. One stand-alone casino, one hotel resort casino. Plus, slot machines in more locations. I reviewed what I knew. Ace it. Missing clue. Philadelphia. Pink. Two more were missing clues. I stared at a map of Philadelphia that marked out all the casinos. Nothing. I was blank brained. There was nothing that shouted out pink. I needed the rest of the clues.

I called Ranger. “Howdy,” I said.

“Babe.”

“Here’s my problem. There are some rumors that Salgusta or Shine might try to attend Carla’s funeral or show up at her viewing. I’m sure there will be police presence, but I wouldn’t mind additional security for Grandma.”

“No problem,” Ranger said.

“Thanks. I hate to keep asking you for help, but I can’t do this alone.”

“I file this under entertainment,” Ranger said. “And the help will come with a price. I’m running a tab for you.”

Oh boy.



* * *




I fluffed up my hair, added an extra coat to my mascara, and swiped on some lip gloss. I left the bathroom and confronted the bags that were on my bedroom floor. A half hour later, the bags were empty. Everything had been put away in drawers or hung on hangers. I was dressed in new skinny black slacks, black flats, a royal blue and black striped sweater, and a short black jacket that matched the slacks. I was pretty sure I looked amazing. I thought about taking my gun but decided against it. The gun wouldn’t fit in my new little cross-body bag. Plus, I didn’t have any bullets and I didn’t want to shoot anyone.

Grandma was ready to go when I got to my parents’ house. My mother was at the door with her.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” my mother said to me. “She’s got it into her head that Lou Salgusta will be at the viewing and she’s going to take him down.”

“I said he might be there,” Grandma said.

“This is why I drink,” my mother said.

“As good a reason as any,” Grandma said, already on the move to my SUV.