Look Alive Twenty-Five (Stephanie Plum #25)(33)

I ate two pieces of cake and pushed back from the table, debating whether I should return to the Snake Pit to take another shot at capturing Waggle. If I didn’t get him tonight it would be a week before I’d get another chance. Truth is, a lot could happen in a week. Waggle could get beamed up by the shoe aliens. He could choke on a chicken bone. He could become a Buddhist monk and move to Nepal. All these possibilities sounded good to me.

The party was over at eight o’clock. Valerie rounded up her kids and went home, and Morelli drove me back to the deli.

“What’s the plan for the rest of the night?” Morelli asked. “Do you want me to hang around while you lock up?”

“No. Not necessary. You can go home, and I’ll have Hal drive me to your house when I’m done here.”

He kissed me, told me to be careful, and waited until I was inside the deli before he pulled away.

Only two customers were still lingering in a booth when I walked in. Stretch was busy cleaning his station, and Lula was taking inventory for the purveyor orders. Raymond was squatting down behind the counter, sneaking a smoke. I didn’t see Hal.

“Where’s Hal?” I asked.

“He took out the trash,” Lula said.

“How long ago?”

“Not that long. Maybe ten minutes.”

“Have you checked on him?”

“No one’s gonna beam up Hal. He’s the size of a rhino.”

I went to the register, looked at the monitor, and went breathless.

“There’s something on the ground by the dumpster,” I said. “Tell me it’s not a shoe.”

Lula looked at the monitor. “It could just be a piece of garbage,” she said. “Sometimes garbage could look like a shoe.”

Lula, Dalia, and I went to the back door and stared out into the parking area. No Hal. A large black running shoe was beside the dumpster.

“Hal,” Lula yelled. “Come on out and quit joking on us. This isn’t funny.”

Silence.

“This is freaky,” Lula said. “Hal isn’t even the manager.”

I went to the monitor and used the rewind function to scroll back. I stopped the rewind when I saw Hal walk out the back door with a bag of garbage. He went to the dumpster, tossed the bag in, and turned toward the back door. He paused and looked left. Something obviously had captured his attention. He crossed the lot to investigate and moved off the screen. Time passed. Hard to say if it was a single heartbeat or ten minutes. I couldn’t drag my eyes away, and I couldn’t breathe. And then suddenly a shoe sailed into view from the left side of the lot and landed by the dumpster.

“Holy crap,” Lula said. “Holy hell. Holy moly.”

I saw car lights flash in front of the deli. I hit the real-time button on the remote and saw two Rangeman cars pull up and park in the back alley.

Ranger was the first one through the front door. He was followed by two more Rangeman patrolmen.

“Is anyone missing other than Hal?” Ranger asked. “We saw him go off the screen and he’s not responding.”

“No,” I said. “Just Hal. No one was watching the monitor when it happened. We realized he was missing, and I hit rewind. We saw the shoe come over, and then you arrived.”

I followed Ranger to the back lot. Kan Kleen Dry Cleaners was next door to the deli. It was a storefront operation that sent clothes off-site for cleaning. Doors were shuttered at seven o’clock. The lot was used for pickup and delivery and employee parking. It was currently empty of vehicles. A small dumpster sat to one side. A private home was next in the lineup. It had a high brick wall enclosing its small backyard. Narrow alleys ran between all the buildings on the street.

Ranger’s men were setting up extra lights and crime scene tape.

“Did you call the police?” I asked Ranger.

“No. I want to comb the scene before they contaminate it. I’ll bring them in when we’re done here. Keep everyone inside until I talk to them, and put the closed sign on the door.”

“This is getting old,” Dalia said. “Bad enough all the managers disappeared, now it’s anyone who goes out the back door. And every time someone goes missing we have to hang around until the police dismiss us. I’m done. I’m out of here. I quit.”

“I would quit as well,” Raymond said, “but I am unfortunately needing my paycheck. I have debts that will be painful to my person if I fall behind.”

I looked over at Stretch. He was slumped in a corner booth, nodding off.

“He will stay,” Raymond said. “He gets nicky-nacky from the lady who works in the cleaning establishment next door. It’s not so easy to get good nicky-nacky on a regular basis.”

I was afraid to ask what constituted good nicky-nacky, so I just nodded my head in agreement. At least neither of them were quitting.

“I’m feeling stressed,” Lula said. “I’m worried about Hal. I’m beginning to doubt my theory about space aliens. It’s one thing to beam people up for experimental probing and then return them to earth. This feels different. This feels more like there’s a maniac out there. And I’m not in favor of maniacs.”

I wasn’t in favor of maniacs either, and I had a sick stomach. Three people associated with me were missing. I felt like two were directly my bad. Wayne Kulicki and Hal wouldn’t have been in harm’s way if it wasn’t for me. I felt especially sick over Hal. He was a good person, and he’d been abducted while trying to protect me.