I yanked Grandma to the back door and shoved her out into the yard.
“Are you okay?” I yelled at her.
“He was going to kill me,” she said. “He was going to kill you too.”
“Yes.”
“It's terrible what happens to people. That they lose respect for life.”
“Yes.”
Grandma looked back at the house. “Good thing not everyone's like Kenny. Good thing some human beings are decent.”
“Like us,” I said.
“Well, I suppose, but I was thinking more of Dirty Harry.”
“That was some speech you gave.”
“Always wanted to give that speech. Guess there's a silver lining to everything.”
“Can you walk around to the front of the building? Can you find Morelli and tell him I'm back here?”
Grandma lurched toward the driveway. “If he's there, I'll find him.”
Kenny had been on the opposite side of the cellar when we rushed to get out. Either he'd gone up the stairs, or he was still inside, making his way close to the floor, trying to get to the back door. I was putting my money on the latter. Too many people at the top of the stairs.
I was standing about twenty feet from the door, and I wasn't sure what I'd do if Kenny appeared. I didn't have a gun or a defense spray. I didn't even have a flashlight. Probably I should get the hell out of there and forget about Kenny. The money's not worth it, I said to myself.
Who was I kidding? This wasn't about money. This was about Grandma.
There was another small explosion, and flames flared through the kitchen windows. People shouted from the street, and I could hear sirens in the distance. Smoke poured through the cellar door and swirled around a human form. A hellish creature, backlit by fire. Kenny.
He bent at the waist and coughed and took in some air. His hands hung loose at his sides. Didn't look like he'd been able to find a gun. That was a break. I saw him glance side to side and then come straight toward me. My heart almost jumped out of my chest, until I realized he didn't see me. I was standing, lost in shadow, in his line of escape. He was going to skirt the garage and disappear into the back alleys of the burg.
He moved stealthily forward, silent against the roar of the fire. He was less than five feet away when he saw me. He stopped short, startled, and our eyes locked. My first thought was that he would bolt and run, but he lunged at me on an oath, and we both went down, kicking and clawing. I gave him a good shot with my knee and stuck my thumb in his eye.
Kenny howled and pushed off, rising to a crouch. I grabbed for his foot, and he went down again, hard on his knees. We did more rolling on the ground. More kicking and clawing and swearing.
He was bigger and stronger than me, and probably crazier. Although some might argue that last point. What I had on my side was anger. Kenny was desperate, but I was freaked-out enraged.
I didn't just want to stop him . . . I wanted to hurt him. Not a nice thing to have to admit. I'd never thought of myself as a mean and vengeful person, but there it was.
I squeezed my hand tight in a fist and swung into him backhand, landing a blow that sent shock waves up my arm. There'd been a crunch and a gasp, and I saw him flail out in the darkness, arms wide open.
I grabbed hold of his shirt and shouted for help.
His hands clamped onto my neck, his breath hot on my face. His voice was thick. “Die.”
Maybe, but he'd go down with me. I had his shirt in a death grip. The only way he was going to get away was to take the damn thing off.
If he strangled me unconscious, I'd still have my fingers dug into his shirt.
I was so focused on the shirt it took me a while to realize the pack had enlarged to three.
“Jesus,” Morelli was yelling in my ear. “Let go of his shirt!”
“He'll get away!”
“He won't get away,” Morelli shouted. “I've got him.”
I looked beyond Morelli and saw Ranger and Roche round the corner of the house with two uniforms.
“Get her off me,” Kenny screeched. “Jesus! These Plum bitches are goddamn animals!”
There was another crunch in the darkness, and I suspected Morelli had accidentally broken something belonging to Kenny. Like his nose, maybe.
Stephanie Plum 2 - Two For The Dough
15
I had Rex's cage wrapped in a big blue blanket so he wouldn't get a chill while I transported him. I eased him off the Buick's front seat and pushed the door closed with my butt. It was nice to be moving back to my apartment. And it was nice to feel safe. Kenny was locked up without bail, and I expected he'd be locked up for a good long time. Hopefully for life.
Rex and I took the elevator. The doors slid open on the second floor, and I stepped out feeling good inside. I loved my hallway, and I loved Mr. Wolesky, and I loved Mrs. Bestler. It was nine o'clock in the morning, and I was going to take a shower in my very own bathroom. I loved my bathroom.
I balanced Rex on my hip while I unlocked my door. Later today I'd stop by the office and pick up my recovery fee. Then I'd go shopping. Maybe I'd buy a new refrigerator.
I set Rex on the table by the couch and opened the curtains. I loved my curtains. I stood there for a while, admiring my view of the parking lot, thinking that I also loved the parking lot.
“Home,” I said. Nice and quiet. Private.
There was a knock at the door.
I squinted through the peephole. It was Morelli.
“Thought you'd want to get filled in on some details,” Morelli said.
I opened the door to him and stepped back. “Kenny talked?”
Morelli moved into the foyer. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes ticked off the details of his surroundings. Always the cop. “Enough to piece things together,” he said. “Turns out there were three conspirators, just as we thought . . . Kenny, Moogey, and Spiro. And they each had a key to the storage locker.”
“One for all, and all for one.”
“More like nobody trusted anybody else. Kenny was the brains behind it all. He planned the theft, and he had an overseas buyer for the stolen ammo.”
“The phone numbers to Mexico and El Salvador.”
“Yeah. He also got a nice advance . . .”
“Which he spent ahead of time.”
“Yep. Then he went to the locker to get the stuff ready for shipment, and guess what?”
“No stuff.”
“Yep again,” Morelli said. “Why are you wearing your jacket?”
“I just got in.” I looked wistfully toward the bathroom. “I was about to take a shower.”
“Hmmm,” Morelli said.
“No hmmm. Tell me about Sandeman. Where does Sandeman figure in?”
“Sandeman heard some conversations between Moogey and Spiro and got curious. So he tapped into one of the many skills he acquired during a life of petty crime, duped the locker key off Moogey's key ring, and by process of lengthy elimination, found the locker.”
“Who killed Moogey?”
“Sandeman. He got nervous. Thought Moogey might have eventually figured out about the borrowed furniture truck.”
“And Sandeman told all of this to Kenny?”
“Kenny can be very persuasive.”
There was no doubt in my mind.
Morelli played with the zipper on my jacket. “About that shower . . .”
I pointed with straight arm and extended finger to my door. “Out.”
“Don't you want to know about Spiro?”
“What about Spiro?”
“We haven't caught him yet.”
“He's probably gone underground.”
Morelli winced.
“That's undertaker humor,” I told him.
“One more thing. Kenny had an interesting spin on how the fire got started.”
“Lies. All lies.”
“You could have avoided a lot of terror if you'd just left that bug in your pocketbook.”
I narrowed my eyes and cro
ssed my arms over my chest. “This is a subject best forgotten.”
“You left me standing bare-assed in the middle of the street!”
“I gave you your gun, didn't I?”
Morelli grinned. “You're going to give me more than that, cupcake.”
“Forget it.”
“Not likely,” Morelli said. “You owe me.”
“I owe you nothing! If anyone is owed, it's me! I caught your cousin for you!”
“And in the process burned down Stiva's Mortuary and destroyed thousands of dollars worth of government property.”
“Well, if you're going to be picky about it . . .”
“Picky? Sweetie pie, you are the worst bounty hunter in the history of the world.”
“That does it. I have better things to do than to stand here and take your insults.”
I pushed him out of my foyer, into the hall, slammed the door closed, and threw the bolt. I pressed my nose to the door and looked through the peephole.
Morelli grinned at me.
“This is war,” I yelled through the door.
“Lucky for me,” Morelli said. “I give good war.”
Table of Contents
Stephanie Plum 2 - Two For The Dough
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Janet Evanovich, Two for the Dough
(Series: Stephanie Plum # 2)
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