Top Secret Twenty-One: A Stephanie Plum Novel(28)

Poletti turned, saw Briggs and company, and took off at a run.

Lula and I bolted out of the car and ran after Poletti, chasing him around the building and across the street. I was in sneakers and jeans, and Lula was in five-inch stiletto heels and a skirt that came just two inches below her ass. I was gaining on Poletti. Lula was pounding the pavement behind me. And Briggs was running third, yelling obscenities and threats at Poletti.

The black SUV careened around the corner and slid to a stop, Poletti jumped in, and the car sped away.

“Shit!” Briggs said. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

Lula tugged her skirt down. “That Poletti has no luck at all. He’s shot off two rockets so far, and neither of them’s put a dent in Mr. Short, Pale, and Creepy here. And not only that but he got no guts. He obviously don’t want to kill Briggs in front of witnesses. What’s with that?”

We walked back to Cluck-in-a-Bucket, got our order, and carried it to the Buick. No Stanley.

“Somebody stole Stanley,” Lula said.

“Yeah,” Briggs said. “There’s high demand for a fat guy wearing handcuffs and a hospital gown.”

I drove the route from Cluck-in-a-Bucket to Stanley’s parents’ house, but we didn’t see Stanley.

“Call me crazy,” I said, “but I don’t feel like putting any more effort into capturing Stanley today.”

“It’s no problem anyway,” Lula said. “I got a date with him for Sunday night. I’ll let you know when we get out of the movies, and you can come get him.”





TWELVE


I WAS AT the office, finishing my lunch, when Morelli texted to tell me I could return to my apartment. I left Briggs with Lula and Connie, trudged out to the Buick, and slowly drove down Hamilton. I drove slowly because I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to see the destruction. It was depressing. I’d done this drill too many times. I was tired of it. At least this time there would be no blood spatters, I told myself. That was good, right? And honestly, why was I so upset? It’s not like I was in love with the couch that got cooked. And it’s not like the rocket was personally directed at me. I was a victim, but I wasn’t the targeted victim. That would be Briggs.

Morelli was leaning against his car, waiting for me, when I pulled into the lot.

“You’re talking to yourself,” he said when I got out. “I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad sign.”

“I was trying to talk myself out of being morbidly depressed.”

“Did you succeed?”

My eyes filled with tears.

Morelli wrapped his arms around me and held me close. “It’s not so bad,” he said. “A coat of paint and it’ll be like new. And you never liked that couch anyway.”

“Yes, but the apartment was just painted after that guy blew himself up in my foyer. I liked the new color.”

Morelli took my hand and tugged me toward the building. “We’ll paint it the same color.”

We took the stairs to the second floor and ran into Dillan Ruddick, the building super. He had a wet vac going, sucking up water from the soggy hall carpet.

“Thanks for saving my apartment,” I said to him.

“No problemo,” Dillan said. “I’ve got it down to a science. The alarm goes off and I run straight to your apartment and grab the fire extinguishers.”

“Nice to know,” I said to Dillan. “I’m a disaster!” I whispered to Morelli.

“Yeah, you keep life interesting,” Morelli said, unlocking my apartment. “Be careful where you walk. The carpets are soaked. We’ll get a restoration team in here tomorrow. As you can see, most of the damage is confined to the living room.”

“There’s a hole in my wall! I can see daylight through it.”

“Dillan’s going to board it up as soon as he gets rid of some of the water. I thought you’d want to get some clothes. Probably everything’s going to have to be cleaned and aired to get rid of the smoke smell.”

I filled my laundry basket and two garbage bags with clothes. I added food for Rex and some basic toiletries, grabbed the things that belonged to Briggs, and we left the apartment.

Morelli stuffed everything into the Buick. “Where are you going now? Are you moving in with your parents?”

“Probably, but I don’t know what to do with Briggs. They won’t take Briggs.”

“He’s an adult,” Morelli said. “He can take care of himself.”

“Everything in his apartment was destroyed. And Poletti is trying to kill him.”

“It’s not like he’s blameless. He helped Poletti cheat on his taxes, and he boinked his wife.”

“You know about the wife?”

“Everybody knows about the wife.”

“And he saved Rex.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Morelli said.

“I can’t just walk away from him.”

Morelli looked like he was trying not to grimace. “You’re such a cupcake.”

My eyes filled with tears again.

“Oh crap,” Morelli said, cuddling me into him. “You can stay with me. And you can bring Briggs with you.”



I brought my clothes to my parents’ house and filled the washer with the first load.