Fortune and Glory (Stephanie Plum, #27)(64)

I took the long way back to my apartment building, going one block over and coming into the lot from the service entrance. I paused behind an SUV and looked and listened. There weren’t a lot of cars parked. Residents were out doing weekend things. This is good, I thought. Fewer places for the bad guys to hide. I could see my messenger bag lying on the ground by the Buick. I ventured out and was almost at the Buick when Sanchez and the gym monkey appeared from behind Mr. Mullen’s ancient Lincoln Town Car.

“No more fun time,” gym monkey said. “You run this time and Sanchez is going to shoot you.”

Sanchez had a wad of tissues stuffed into his nose, and even at a short distance the nose looked crooked and his eyes were beginning to bruise and swell.

“I’m a crack shot,” Sanchez said, “and I’m not going to shoot to kill. I’m going to shoot you someplace real painful, and then when we bring you to Mr. Shine, you’re going to be cooperative. And maybe he’ll let us play with you when he’s done.”

I’d skinned my knee when I fell off the porch and I didn’t know how much more running I had in me. I thought I might be able to dodge around a couple of cars and make it to my building’s back door. If luck was with me Sanchez wouldn’t be a crack shot with a broken nose and swollen eyes.

I ran for the nearest car, ducked down behind it, and Sanchez got off a shot that zinged over my head. I ran to another car, ducked down, and in my peripheral vision I caught a flash of black. It was Gabriela in the Mercedes. She sped past me and drove straight for Sanchez. He uttered something in Spanish and pointed the gun at the Mercedes. Gabriela slammed into him before he could get a shot off, punting him at least twenty feet. She skidded to a stop, put the car into reverse, and took down gym monkey. He went down with a cell phone in one hand and a gun in the other. Gabriela put the Mercedes into drive and ran over him a second time.

I worried that I might be next, but she drove out of the lot and didn’t look back.

Sanchez wasn’t moving. Gym monkey was moaning a little, and there was what looked like leg bone sticking out of a tear in his trousers. I retrieved my messenger bag, ran into the building, and locked myself in my apartment. I walked to the window on shaky legs, looked down at the parking lot, and dialed 911. I told dispatch that a hit-and-run had occurred, but I hadn’t gotten a good look at the car.

I wasn’t sure what to do about identifying Gabriela. She probably saved my life. Why was the big question.

While I was on the line with 911, the blue pickup raced into the lot. A couple of young guys in jeans and Tshirts got out, scooped up Sanchez and gym monkey, and took off.

“Hold on a minute,” I said to dispatch. “The two hit-and-run victims just left. Sorry for the false alarm.”

I stood at the window for a couple of minutes, staring down at the empty pavement. Good thing my jeans were torn, and my knee was bleeding, because otherwise I might think I hallucinated the entire episode.

I went into the kitchen and searched for something comforting, settling on a handful of Froot Loops and a spoonful of peanut butter.

“My life is crap,” I said to Rex. “On the other hand, I didn’t just get run over by a car, twice. And I think my hair still looks good. Even Arnold Rugalowski thought it was pretty.”

No comments from Rex.

I put a huge Band-Aid on my knee, changed into new jeans, and went back to the kitchen for more peanut butter. I was contemplating washing the peanut butter down with a beer, and I heard something bump against my front door. I looked out my peephole and saw the back of Potts’s head.

“I had a feeling you were home,” he said when I opened the door. “It was one of those telepathic things. So, what are we doing today?”

“I need to find Shine.”

“That might be difficult.”

“And I wouldn’t mind talking to Gabriela.”

“Sometimes she parks by the dumpster. She kind of hides behind it in her little car. It’s like the stealth car.”

“Was she there when you got here?”

“No. I didn’t see her.”

I thought she was probably getting the dents taken out of the Mercedes and having it detailed to get rid of the blood.

I called Connie and asked if her mother had any thoughts on where Shine might be hiding.

“Mom isn’t here,” Connie said. “She’s with Benny’s sister. They’re making the funeral arrangements. I’ll ask if she’s heard anything when she comes home.”

“I had two of Shine’s men try to kidnap me just now. Young. Late twenties. One was bulked up with muscle and the other was thin. The thin one was named Sanchez and had a scar running the length of his face. They were trying to shoot me in my parking lot, and Gabriela came out of nowhere in her Mercedes and ran them over.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. For real. Sanchez ended up a crumpled heap on the pavement and the muscle guy had a compound fracture of his right leg. Probably a bunch of other body parts were also broken, but I couldn’t see those. I was calling 911 when a blue pickup drove into the lot, scooped them both up, and drove off. You have a lot of nurse contacts. Could you call around and see if they checked into any of the hospitals or clinics?”

“I’m on it,” Connie said.

“Wow,” Potts said when I hung up. “You didn’t tell me any of that. I must have just missed it. Were they really shooting at you in the parking lot?”