Fortune and Glory (Stephanie Plum, #27)(30)

I paused with my sandwich halfway to my mouth. “You know about the tunnel?”

“Jimmy told me about it. He said no one used it much anymore and it needed some repair, but it was still an important part of the La-Z-Boy club. I figured it just went between the Mole Hole and the Margo, but maybe it goes to lots of other places. And maybe one of those other places has the safe with the treasure. So, if we can’t figure out the clues, I say we investigate the tunnels. We should just go down there and follow all the different tunnels to see where they end up.”

My mother looked like she was trying to decide between vodka or Xanax. I understood her dilemma. Her thankless job was to be the voice of reason and maturity in a family of oddballs. My father keeps his head down and wills himself to be invisible, occasionally barking for more hot gravy at the dinner table. My sister Valerie is married to a very sweet man who seems to be incompetent at everything other than keeping her pregnant. And then there’s me and Grandma with Superhero Derangement Syndrome.

“I’m told the tunnels are in bad shape,” I said to Grandma. “I don’t think we should go in them, but I can get Ranger to map them out for us.”

The part about Ranger was a fib. I didn’t feel comfortable asking Ranger to map the tunnels. I put it out there because I didn’t want to push my mother off the ledge.

“I guess that would be okay,” Grandma said.

I finished my sandwich, ate three chocolate chip cookies, and stood to leave. “I’d like to borrow the Buick,” I said.

The Buick is a ’53 baby blue and white Roadmaster monster that was left to Grandma when her brother passed. It sits unused in the garage because Grandma has a lead foot and lost her license, but can’t bring herself to sell the car.

“Where’s your CR-V?” my mother asked.

“I had a fender bender,” I said. “No big deal, but I’d like to use Big Blue while my car gets fixed.”

“Sure, you can borrow it,” Grandma said. “And you can drop me at the hair salon. I’m getting my nails done. I’m thinking about going midnight blue.”





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


The hair salon was a block from the bail bonds office. I dropped Grandma off and checked in with Connie. Lula was absent. Potts was present. He jumped up off the couch when he saw me.

“Thank goodness you’re safe,” he said. “I don’t know how I missed you. I spent the whole night in front of your door. And then when it was almost lunchtime and you weren’t answering when I knocked and yelled, the super came to see what was wrong. So, he went in to make sure you weren’t dead, and that’s when I found out you weren’t there. How did you get past me?”

“You were asleep,” I said. “I stepped over you.”

“From now on I’m not going to sleep,” he said. “Never.”

“If you didn’t come soon, I was going to lock him in the storeroom,” Connie said. “He won’t leave. And he hums.”

“Anything new?” I asked Connie.

“Angie Mackie told my mom that she saw Lou Salgusta come out of Carlotta’s Bakery yesterday afternoon. She said he was carrying a flamethrower and limping. And Lula just cracked a tooth. She was trying to open a beer bottle with her teeth. She’s at the dentist.”

“Why was she trying to open it with her teeth?”

“We had pizza delivered for lunch, and Lula found a couple beers in the fridge, but we couldn’t find the opener. She said she saw a guy open a beer bottle with his teeth once. I bet her a dollar she couldn’t do it. And she cracked her tooth.”

“Did she get the bottle open?” I asked.

“Not with her teeth. She popped it open with a screwdriver.” Connie handed me a computer printout. “This is the latest on Charlie Shine. He’s using his credit card at restaurants and grocery stores. He’s staying away from places where he would be recognized. Not shopping at Giovichinni’s. He’s moving around but he never seems to go out of the greater Trenton area. At least not with his Charlie Shine ID. There are gaps between credit card expenditures, so it’s possible he’s using a bogus ID as well.”

“Thanks,” I said to Connie. “I’ll take the printout. Maybe I can see a pattern. Grandma’s at the hair salon. I’m going to see if she needs a ride home.”

“Take the hummer with you.”

Potts followed me out and stopped when he saw the Buick.

“This is your car?” he said. “I mean, you’re really driving this Buick? It’s a classic. I’ve never seen one of these in person.”

I hated the Buick. I only borrowed it when I had no other choice. It was a bulbous sow, lumbering down the street, grunting and wheezing. I felt like Betty Rubble when I was behind the wheel, wrestling the beast around corners.

I opened the back door for him, and he sprawled across the seat.

“Wow,” he said. “This is huge. It’s like a bedroom back here.”

I drove a block, parked in front of the hair salon, and called Grandma. No answer. I left Potts in the car and I went into the salon. It wasn’t big. Dottie and Irene Hurley had their own styling stations and they also did nails. They were younger than Grandma, but not by much.

“Edna left with Ruth Kuleski,” Dottie said. “She got a quick nail color change, and Ruth drove her somewhere. Edna said she was going on an adventure. And Ruth said she was going to have lunch with her daughter.”