Hardcore Twenty-Four (Stephanie Plum #24)(29)

“So far, they’re only taking brains from people who are already dead, so I think I’m safe as long as I’m alive.”

Lula nodded. “I can see you thought this through.”

“It’s a chance of a lifetime,” Slick said. “I’d be willing to give you a credit if you could get me better equipment. I could list you as an assistant or a grip or something.”

“My name would have to be in a prominent place,” Lula said. “I’d need to get a producer credit. And what about the filming? Would we get to be seen with the zombies?”

“I hadn’t thought about it, but sure, we could do that.”

“It would enhance our prospects for future film roles,” Lula said. “It could lead to us being movie stars.”

Slick was visibly excited. His eyes were wide and his face was flushed. “Exactly! That’s been my plan all along.”

“Okay, it’s decided,” Lula said. “Let’s do it.”

I raised my hand. “Hello? Have we forgotten something? This man is a felon. We’re supposed to be apprehending him.”

“Yeah, but I don’t see where there’s such a rush,” Lula said. “We got a mission. It could be critical that we document the zombies.”

I rolled my eyes and thunked the heel of my hand against my forehead. “Unh!”

“I gotta get back to my post,” Slick said. “I don’t want any zombies sneaking into the portal without getting their picture taken.”

“And I gotta go to the projects and find my camera friend,” Lula said.

Lula hustled off to the parking lot, and I followed after her.

“We have to find Cheap Slim,” Lula said. “He’s my electronics source these days.”

I knew about Cheap Slim. He sold cameras, smartphones, watches, and laptops out of the trunk of his 1998 Cadillac Eldorado. Best not to ask about the source of his goods.

“You’re going to buy a camera to film something that doesn’t exist,” I said to Lula.

“Well, something came out of the cemetery and followed Diggery home,” Lula said. “And something’s collecting brains.”

She had a point. So maybe putting Slick in the cemetery with a camera wasn’t such a bad idea.

“It’s almost noon,” I said. “I called my mom a while ago and told her we’d be around for lunch. After lunch we can look for Cheap Slim.”

“Sounds good. Now that I think about it, I might even have a camera at my apartment. It was left over from when I did the bungee jumping demo.”





THIRTEEN


“YOU PICKED A good day to come for lunch,” Grandma told Lula. “We got leftover meatloaf, fresh bakery bread, and coleslaw. And I got a new picture of my honey.”

“Is this the guy who looks like George Hamilton?” Lula asked.

“Yep. This is a picture of him on his scooter.”

Lula and I looked at the photo on Grandma’s cellphone.

“He’s almost as dark as me,” Lula said. “He spends some serious time in the sun.”

“Well, he’s in Florida and that’s the way it is. I’m told everyone looks like this in Florida,” Grandma said. “I might have to go to a tanning salon before I visit him.”

“You are not visiting him,” my mother said.

Lula and I took a seat at the kitchen table. I made a meatloaf sandwich and helped myself to the coleslaw.

“Have you heard anything new about Johnny Chucci?” I asked Grandma.

“I got a load of information about Johnny,” Grandma said. “He came back because he had a dream about his ex-wife, and he decided he was still in love with her. He tried to go visit her, and she hit him on the head with a fry pan, and he had to go to the emergency room. Twelve stitches. Went home and had another dream. This time God told him he had to try again. He’s afraid to go back, so he’s been sending her stuff. Flowers and pizza and love notes. So far as I know, the ex-wife wants nothing to do with him.”

“That’s pathetic,” Lula said. “If someone sent me pizza I’d have to reconsider my feelings for him.”

Grandma forked in some meatloaf. “Word is that he even forgives her for killing his dog with the chicken bone.”

“He sounds like a nice man,” Lula said. “A real romantic. It’s a shame we gotta haul his ass back to jail, but I guess that’s life, right?”

“Do you know where he’s staying?” I asked Grandma. “Where’s home these days?”

“He was staying with his brother Earl, but that got old for Earl’s wife,” Grandma said. “Then he moved in with his brother Little Pinkie, and he might still be there. And that’s all I know except that Johnny doesn’t look so good these days, and he might be a zombie.”

Lula sat forward in her seat. “Get out! Is that for real?”

“Well, he’s not raggedy, but his eyes are sort of sunken in like zombie eyes. I guess he could just be anemic, but people are talking.”

“What’s he smell like?” Lula asked. “Did anybody smell him?”

“I haven’t heard anything about his smell,” Grandma said.

My mother brought half a chocolate cake to the table. “For goodness’ sakes, the man got hit in the head with a fry pan. He’s probably got a headache.” She knifed into the cake and put a slab onto a plate. “Who wants dessert?”