Hardcore Twenty-Four (Stephanie Plum #24)(44)

“Assuming it was zombies, where would we find them?”

“Ordinarily I’d think to look in the cemetery, but they might have temporarily vacated it with all the cops roaming around.”

“Any other ideas?”

“Diggery’s woods. It’s the perfect place for a bunch of zombies. And already we know they go there sometimes.”

“Okay, do you want to go zombie hunting with me in Diggery’s woods?”

“No. No way. No how. I don’t think so. Not gonna happen. Also, I usually only work half a day on Saturday, and I’m past the halfway mark. I got an appointment to get my nails done this afternoon.”

“No problem. Drop me at my car, and I’ll see if I can talk Morelli into going with me.”

“How about if I drop you at Morelli’s house, and you’ll be one step ahead of the game?”

“That won’t work. I need my car so I can feed Ethel.”

“About your car . . .” Lula said. “You know how it’s such a nice sunny day?”

“Yeah.”

“And you know how exceptionally warm it’s got?”

“Yeah.”

“And you know how a locked-up car can get overly hot inside when it’s parked in the sun? Well, your car got parked in the sun, and the groundhog exploded.”

“What?”

“Exploded. At least that’s what we think happened. Hard to tell from what’s left. Looked to Connie and me that you don’t leave a dead groundhog in a hot car. Who would have thought?”

“Is it bad?”

“It isn’t good,” Lula said. “There’s putrefied groundhog guts and gravy all over the place. I wouldn’t want to be the one to detail it.”

Lula eased to the curb behind my car, staying a good distance away.

“I need to park back here so I don’t contaminate my baby with groundhog stink,” she said.

“There are turkey vultures sitting on it.”

“Yeah, we keep shooing them, but they keep coming back and pecking at the roof. I imagine you might have a few dents up there.”

We got out of the Firebird and stood looking at the vultures.

“You want me to shoot them?” Lula asked.

“No.”

I crept closer and looked inside.

“Omigod!” I said, clapping a hand over my mouth, holding my breath.

“It’s like you exploded that sucker in a microwave, right? It’s like when you forget to put the top on the blender. It’s like projectile vomit from something possessed.”

I bit into my lower lip to keep from whimpering. “Do you think it’s totaled?”

“Not in the traditional sense of being flattened by a garbage truck or being run off a bridge into the Delaware, but in the sense that no one is gonna want to drive it . . . hell, yeah.”

I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. I’d destroyed yet another of Ranger’s cars. And there was a bet riding on this. Double or nothing. I was in a relationship with Morelli, and I owed Ranger two nights. What was I thinking?

I called Ranger, and he answered with the usual “Babe.”

“Bad news,” I said. “It’s about your Lexus.”

“One of my patrol cars drove by it an hour ago and said it was being circled by vultures.”

“There was an unfortunate incident with a dead groundhog.”

“I didn’t see that one coming,” Ranger said. “How bad is it?”

“There are vultures circling. How bad do you think it is?”

Silence.

“You’re laughing again, aren’t you?” I asked him.

“Do I need to send someone in a hazmat suit?”

“Yes.”

“Do you need another car? I’m running a tab.”

“No. I don’t need another car. I’m going to get Big Blue.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

Big Blue is a 1953 blue and white Buick Roadmaster in prime condition. My grandmother inherited it, and it now sits in my parents’ garage and is available to borrow. It drives like a tank, and while some might think old cars are cool, I feel like an idiot in it. That said, it’s free and comes with no strings attached.

“What’s the plan?” Lula asked.

“Ranger is going to take care of the Lexus. I’m going to borrow Big Blue.”

“I’ll give you a ride. Then I’m going to get my nails done. I like my nails to be looking good. I get a chip in my nail varnish, and my juju goes in the dumper.”





NINETEEN


GRANDMA OPENED THE door when I stepped onto the front porch. “We’re done with lunch,” she said, “but I can fix you a sandwich if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks. I’ve already eaten.” Three Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, two Snickers bars, and a bag of M&M’s. “I thought you had a date with Willie Kuber.”

“It got over early. He got bursitis playing skillo. He was a dud anyway. All he could talk about was his prostate, and how he was getting radiation, and his prostate was going to turn into a useless leather hacky sack. I got an idea his prostate was useless before he got zapped.”