Fortune and Glory (Stephanie Plum, #27)(23)

“Get into the backseat,” I said. “I’ll drive you home.”

“You can’t do that. I’m supposed to be with you. I took an oath.”

I looked at him in my rearview mirror. “An oath?”

“Yes. An oath to protect you. It was a blood oath, too. I stuck my finger with a pin and swore to protect you.” He shivered. “Bad things happen to you if you break an oath.”

“I really don’t need protecting,” I said.

“Of course, you need protecting. Social media says you’re a hot mess. Who are you meeting? I know it isn’t a date because you said you were going to work. It might be awkward to bring me along on a date, but I could be useful on a work assignment. I have excellent powers of observation. And besides, I won’t get out of your car if you take me home. I’ll kick and scream until I have an asthma attack. Did I mention I sometimes have asthma attacks?”

No surprise there. Why leave out asthma from his many ailments.

“Okay. Fine. Have it your way. I’ll take you with me, but you have to not move from the backseat, and no talking.”

“No problem. My lips are sealed. Look what I’m doing. I’m zipping my lips. Zip! Did you see that? Did you see me zip my lips?”

I told myself to relax my grip on the wheel and stay calm. Lula and I would cruise Stark Street, talk to a couple of women about Shine, and go home. Easy peasy.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Lula was waiting on the sidewalk in front of her house.

“What’s going on?” she asked, getting in and buckling up. “Is that the pooper in the backseat?”

I looked at Potts and he made a zipper motion across his mouth.

“It’s George Potts,” I said. “He’s riding with us. It’s a long story, not worth telling. Are we going to Stark Street?”

“I’m thinking we start at the train station. A couple of the girls hang out for the late commuters. They’re usually on Grimly Street.”

I crossed the railroad tracks, drove past the train station, and turned left onto Grimly. A plus-sized hooker wearing pink sweats and black patent leather platform stilettos was standing on the corner.

“Do you know her?” I asked Lula.

“No,” Lula said. “I never got in with the train station girls.”

I pulled over and lowered my window. Pink Sweatsuit walked over and looked in at Lula and me.

“I don’t usually do girls,” Sweatsuit said. “They take too long. I make exceptions if you want to pay by the hour or go electric.”

I waved a twenty at her. “I’m looking for a friend. Maybe you’ve seen him.” I replaced the twenty with Shine’s photo.

“Nope. Never seen him,” she said. “Not for a twenty anyways.” She looked into the backseat. “Is that Georgy Potts back there? Hey, Georgy, how’s it going?”

Potts looked at me and I pretended to unzip my lips.

“Hey, Leticia,” Potts said.

“All the girls been missing you, honey. Where you been? How’s your asthma?” Leticia turned her attention to me. “He has PTSD. I hope you’re taking good care of him.”

“The best,” I said. “He’s special.”

“You bet your ass he’s special,” Leticia said.

Potts leaned forward. “So, have you seen this guy? We’d really like to get in touch with him.”

“Sure, just for you, Sweetums. He’s got a thing for Patches. She’s good with the older folks. She usually hung on the corner here with Jody and me, but I haven’t seen her in a while. You might try Lizzy on Stark. Lizzy and Patches were tight.”

“Thanks,” Potts said. “You’re the best.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Leticia said, taking my twenty, stuffing it into her pocket.

“That girl has no curbside manners,” Lula said when I drove away. “I would never have approached a prospective client like that.”

“She’s nice when you get to know her,” Potts said. “She has a cat named Kiki.”

Lula turned in her seat and looked at Potts. “Are you a regular or something?”

“No,” Potts said. “I mostly only have sex with myself. Before the bakery pooping incident, I had a job delivering pizza and the ladies were big pizza eaters. Sometimes I would run errands for them when they had an emergency or a special request… like chocolate syrup or a package of frozen hot dogs. That was a tough one because hot dogs aren’t usually frozen. And once Samantha forgot her paddle and I had to buy her a spatula at the grocery store.”

“That Samantha is a trip,” Lula said. “She’s been around for a long time. That’s on account of she’s a specialist. Specialists like her got a longer shelf life than an ordinary service provider.”

“Do you know Patches?” I asked Potts.

“No, but I know Lizzy. She used to work the train station.”

“Do you know Lizzy’s corner on Stark?”

“No,” he said. “I would never deliver on Stark Street. It’s too scary. I went there once, and I accidentally ran over a big rat. It was so big I thought it was a cat, so I got out to see if I could help. And while I was looking at the squished rat, someone stole my car.”