Look Alive Twenty-Five (Stephanie Plum #25)(7)

“The menu says a number seven is turkey and Swiss on whole grain.”

“Three ounces of turkey and two slices of Swiss,” Stretch said. “The turkey is pre-measured. Mustard on the Swiss side and mayo on the turkey. Every sandwich gets two deli pickles.”

“Boy, they got this to a science,” Lula said. “Everything’s in these bins. All I need is the bread. Who eats multigrain, anyway? Multigrain don’t melt in your mouth like white bread.”

I gave Lula the bread and she slathered mustard on one and mayo on the other. She added the turkey and Swiss and shook her head.

“This isn’t a Lula sandwich,” she said. “I can’t be proud sending out a sandwich like this.” She added Tabasco and two strips of bacon. “This person is gonna thank me. I’m giving them a superior culinary experience.”

She sliced the sandwich in half, and I put it in one of the plastic containers with two pickles.

“You gotta move faster,” Stretch said. “Pickup’s waiting.”

“You gotta chill,” Lula said. “I’m making gastrointestinal history. You can’t rush this artistic shit.”

We slapped together nine more sandwiches, got the sides put together and boxed up the pie. Dalia bagged everything and took it all to the pickup counter.

“I need pie,” Lula said. “I got a pie craving.”

“What about the sandwiches you wanted?”

“I ate a lot of the fixings while we were doing the takeout order, but I didn’t get any pie.”

Connie called on my cellphone. “I’m at the courthouse, and there’s no Annie Gurky. Did you get a receipt for her?”

“No,” I said. “I was in a rush to get back to the deli, so I told the cop at the desk to give you the receipt.”

“He’s saying you didn’t make it clear that she needed to be held.”

“She was cuffed!”

“He might not have noticed. Anyway, responsibility is in a gray zone right now, so see if you can find her. She probably called Uber and is back in her house.”

I looked out at the dining area. The lunch trade seemed to be winding down. Half of the booths were empty.

“I’m taking off for a while,” I said to Stretch. “Things to do.” Like tell Vinnie he should hire a new manager.

“You need to be back here at five o’clock,” Stretch said. “It gets nuts when the rush hour trains roll in.”

“And do not go out the back door,” Raymond said.

“My car is parked in the back,” I said.

“No, no, no,” he said. “Do not ever park there. We call that the Domain of the Death Dumpster. That is where managers go to disappear.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, “but I’m going to chance it this one time.”

Raymond handed me a meat cleaver. “Take this with you. You must protect yourself.”

“She don’t need that,” Lula said. “I’m packing a loaded Glock. And I’m taking a pie as backup.”

“Good luck,” Raymond said. “Keep your eyes open. I hope you return. We will soil ourselves trying to get through the evening covers without an extra hand.”

Lula pulled a pumpkin pie from the fridge, grabbed a fork, and followed me out. She stopped in the middle of the small lot and looked around.

“So, this is where it happens,” she said. “I guess it’s like poof and no more manager. Just a shoe left behind. Maybe it’s aliens beaming up managers. That would be the most logical explanation. I could see that happening.”

“Why would aliens leave a shoe behind?”

“It could be a thoughtful gesture so his family knew he was taken by aliens. Or maybe when you get beamed up your shoe falls off. It could be a side effect of beaming up. If you don’t mind I’m not standing too close to you in case you suddenly get beamed up.”

I allowed myself a grimace and a single eye roll, and I got into my Nova. Lula buckled up next to me and forked into the pie.

“Annie Gurky wandered away from the police station,” I said to Lula. “Connie is canvassing the area around the municipal building, and I’m going to go back to Annie’s house.”

“It would be bad if someone finds one of her shoes,” Lula said. “That would mean the aliens were looking to diversify in their beaming.”





CHAPTER FOUR


LULA WAS HALFWAY through the pie when I pulled into Annie’s apartment complex. I parked in one of the guest spaces allotted to her unit, left Lula in the car, and went to Annie’s door. I rang the bell three times. No answer. I looked in her front windows. No sign that she was inside. Her car was parked in the lot. I went back to my car and called Annie’s cellphone.

She answered on the second ring.

“Hey,” I said. “Where are you?”

“Who is this?”

“It’s Stephanie Plum.”

“Well, then, I’m at the police station.”

“I know you aren’t at the police station. I hear noise in the background. Omigod, are you at the airport?”

“Of course not.”

“You are. I just heard them announce a flight to Miami.”