Hardcore Twenty-Four (Stephanie Plum #24)(66)

“That’s it for the movies,” Grandma said. “According to his blog he’ll be putting a new movie up tonight.”

I took some time to read through his blog. It was a diary of his nighttime wanderings and adventures with the zombies. Hard to tell what was real and what was fiction. He wrote about working with the Supreme Ruler of the Zombies, and he promised that something shocking was about to be videoed.

I thought the videos I just watched were already too shocking. I wasn’t a horror movie kind of person. I was more romantic comedy. Indiana Jones was as violent as I could go.

I called Morelli back.

“Have you seen Zero Slick’s videos on YouTube?” I asked him.

“There are videos?”

“Yes. And he has a blog. You want to check it out. He mentions the Supreme Ruler of the Zombies. Apparently, they’re hanging out together. And there’s a fuzzy picture of us in front of your house, looking at your door.”

“How did you discover this?”

“Grandma.”

“I should have guessed,” Morelli said.

I ended the call with Morelli, said goodbye to my mom, and walked to the door. Grandma went with me.

“Let me know if you need help with the zombies,” Grandma said. “I’m good with dead people.”





TWENTY-SEVEN


I DROVE OUT of the Burg and cruised past the bonds office. It was closed for the night. Traffic was heavy on Hamilton Avenue and going through the center of the city. Rush hour. Everyone going home. Except me. I was going to Rangeman. I drove into the garage, stepped into the elevator, and exited into Ranger’s apartment. It was nice, but it wasn’t home. I went to the kitchen and said hello to Rex and poured myself a glass of wine. Ranger kept wine in his apartment, but he almost never drank it. He didn’t mix alcohol and guns. And he almost always carried a gun.

It was five o’clock. Ranger usually worked until six or six-thirty. Ella brought dinner at seven o’clock. I had time to kill. I took the wine into Ranger’s office, settled into a leather club chair, and brought Slick’s blog up on my computer. I read through it for the second time, and again the thing that stood out was his claim to be working with the Supreme Ruler of the Zombies. It smacked of a cheesy movie or a graphic novel. It was comic book stuff. Hard to take seriously. And yet, hard to ignore.

Someone had drifted into Trenton and set up shop to produce Zombuzz. That someone was an elusive entity. A freak who gave his drug away in exchange for human brains. And apparently he accepted brains that were mummified, embalmed, or fresh from the kill.

It was a little after six o’clock when I heard Ranger roll in. There was the clink of keys in the silver tray and soft footsteps in the hall. He smiled when he saw me in the chair with my computer.

“It’s nice to find you here when I come home,” he said. “I’d forgotten what it was like.”

“Are you telling me you’re lonely?”

“No. Just that I enjoy this once in a while.”

I nodded. “Me too. I have something to show you. Zero Slick has a zombie blog, and he’s uploaded some videos on YouTube.”

“I’ve seen them. He needs better equipment.”

“Do you think he’s serious about working with the Supreme Ruler of the Zombies?”

“It’s possible. He was in one of the caves. Someone took him there.”

“Supreme Ruler?”

“It’s a little Hollywood.”

“Do you think there’s a Supreme Ruler?”

“I think there’s someone who brought the drug to Trenton, is controlling the distribution, and is enjoying the experience.”

“Are you involved in this?”

“You’re involved, so I’m involved.”

“Do you think we should go proactive?”

“There are a lot of people working proactively. Morelli and his team are making good progress, considering the drug has only been here for two weeks, tops.”

“Have you been in contact with Diesel?”

“Not directly. We see him moving around.”

“Do you think he could be the Supreme Ruler?”

“No. He doesn’t have that kind of ambition. He does his job because he’s one of only a few people who have the skill. He didn’t choose his job. His job chose him.”

“Jeez. That’s heavy.”

Ranger shrugged. “He’s a specialist. He has a decent amount of downtime, and he’s well compensated.”

“You know a lot about him.”

“I was curious. I did some research.”

A text message dinged on my phone. It’s showtime. You know where to find me. Midnight. Come alone or not at all. ZS.

I showed the message to Ranger.

“Text him back and tell him midnight isn’t going to work for you. Tell him you’ll meet him at ten o’clock.”

“Why ten o’clock?”

“I have an early meeting tomorrow. I don’t want to be wandering around a cemetery until two in the morning.”

“You think he’s at the cemetery?”

“I assumed he was referring to the grave site where he was camped out. That was where you met him when his video career began.”