'Shit,' I said to Gazarra. 'Don't die.'
Gazarra looked at me through narrowed eyes. 'Do I look like I'm going to die?'
'No. But I'm not an expert.'
'Gripes, what happened? It was like World War III broke out.'
'Seemed like the gentlemen in the SUV didn't want to chat with you.'
I was being glib, hoping it would keep me from bursting into tears. I'd stripped my T-shirt off and had it pressed to Gazarras shoulder wound. Thank goodness I was wearing a sports bra, because I'd feel conspicuous if I was wearing my lacy Victoria's
Secret Wonderbra when the cops got here. There was undoubtedly a first aid kit in the squad car, but I wasn't thinking that clearly. The
T-shirt seemed easier and faster. I was pressing hard enough that my hands weren't visibly shaking, but my heart was racing and my breathing was ragged. Grandma and Sally were standing huddled together in silence by the Buick.
'Is there anything we can do?' Grandma asked.
Talk to Joe. He's on the cell phone. Tell him Gazarra needs help.'
Sirens were screaming in the distance, and I could see the flash of police strobes a block away.
'Shirley's gonna be pissed,' Gazarra said. 'She hates when I get shot.' To my recollection, the only other time Gazarra was shot was when he was playing quick draw in the police station elevator, and his gun accidentally discharged. The bullet ricocheted off the elevator wall and lodged in Gazarra's right buttock.
The first cop car angled in. It was followed by a second blue-and-white and Morelli in his SUV. I took a step back to allow the men access to Eddie.
Morelli looked first to me and then glanced over at Gazarra. 'Are you okay?' he asked.
I was covered with blood, but it wasn't mine. 'I didn't get hit.
Eddie's been shot twice, but I think he's going to be all right.'
I guess there are places in this country where cops are always perfectly pressed. Trenton wasn't one of those places. Trenton cops worked hard and worried a lot. Every cop on the scene had a sweat-soaked shirt and grim set to his mouth, including
Morelli.
'They opened fire with an automatic weapon from the back seat,' I told Morelli. 'We were coming out of the McDonalds drive-thru on State, and I saw the devil guy cross the lot and get into the
Lincoln. The devil guy got into the front passenger seat, so he wasn't the shooter. He had four drinks with him, so there were probably three other guys in the car. I followed him out of the lot and called you. You know the rest.'
Morelli slid an arm around me and pulled me close, resting his cheek on mine. 'I don't want to get mushy here in front of the guys, but there was a moment back there when I heard shots fired over the phone... and I didn't care a lot about the triplets.'
'Nice to know,' I said, slumping against him, happy to have someone holding me up. 'It happened so fast. No one got out of a car. Eddie was still buckled into his seat belt. They shot him through the windshield.'
'The Lincoln was stolen. They probably thought Gazarra was going to bust them.'
'No, it was me,' I said. 'This is all my fault. The Red Devil knew
I recognized him.'
An EMT truck arrived and parked next to Gazarra. Cops were directing traffic, securing the area, shouting over the static and chatter of the dispatch radio.
'It's uncanny the way you stumble into this stuff,' Morelli said.
'It's creepy.'
Grandma was standing behind us. Two disasters in one day,' she said. 'I bet its a personal record.'
'Not even close.' Morelli said. His eyes settled on my sports bra, I like the new look.'
1 used my T-shirt as a compress.'
Morelli removed his shirt and draped it around my shoulders.
'You feel cold.'
That's because my heart stopped pumping blood about ten minutes ago.' My skin was pale and clammy, and my forearms were goose-bumpy. 'I need to get back to my parents' house and have some dessert.'
'I could use some dessert, too,' Grandma said. 'Probably they don't have the lid up on Lorraine, anyway.' She turned to Sally. 'I know I promised you a good time at the funeral parlor, but it didn't work out. How about some dessert instead? We got chocolate cake and ice cream. And then we can send you home in a cab. My son-in-law drives a cab sometimes, so we get a break on the rates.'
'I guess I could eat some cake,' Sally said. 'I probably burned off a couple hundred calories just now from fright.'
Morelli buttoned me into his shirt. 'Are you going to be okay to drive?'
'Yeah. I don't even feel like throwing up anymore.'
'I need to check on a few things here, and then I'll follow you over.'
My mother was on the front porch when we arrived. She was rigid with her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed tight together.
'She knows,' Grandma said. 'I bet the phone's been ringing off the hook.'
'How could she know?' Sally asked. 'We were way across town, and it's been less than an hour, start to finish.'
'The first call always comes from Traci Wenke and Myron Flatt on account of they listen to the police band on their radios,'
Grandma said. 'And then Elsa Downing probably called. She finds out early because her daughter works as a dispatcher. And I bet
Shirley called to see if she could drop the kids off so she could go to the hospital.'
I parked the Buick, and by the time I got to ray mother her face was white, and I expected steam to begin curling out of her ears at any moment. 'Don't start,' I said. `I'm not talking about it until I've had some cake.'
My mother wheeled around without a word, marched to the kitchen, and sliced me a wedge of cake.
I followed after her. 'Ice cream,' I said.
She scooped half a tub of ice cream onto my plate. She stepped back and looked at me. 'Blood,' she said.
'Not mine.'
She made the sign of the cross.
'And I'm pretty sure Eddie's going to be okay.'
Another cross.
There'd been places left at the table for Grandma and me. I took my place and shoveled in cake. Grandma brought an extra chair from the kitchen for Sally and bustled around filling plates. The rest of the family was silent at the dining-room table. Only my father was active, head down, forking up chicken and mashed potatoes. Everyone else was frozen in their seats, mouths open, eyes wide, not sure what to make of me with the blood on my shirt
... and Sally in his earrings.
'You all remember Sally, don't you?' Grandma asked as introduction. 'He's a famous musician, and he's a girl sometimes.
He's got a whole bunch of pretty dresses and high heel shoes and makeup. He's even got one of them black leather bustier things with pointy ice cream cone breasts. You don't even hardly notice his chest hair when he's got that bustier thing on.'
Stephanie Plum 10 - Ten Big Ones
three
Now can he be a girl sometimes?' Mary Alice wanted to know.
Mary Alice is in third grade and is two years younger than her sister, Angle. Mary Alice can ride a bike, play Monopoly if someone helps her read the Chance cards, and can recite the names of all of Santas reindeer. She's in the dark on gender crossing.
'I just dress up like a girl,' Sally said. 'It's part of my onstage persona.'
I'd want to dress up like a horse,' Mary Alice said.
Angie looked at Sally's wrist. Why are you wearing an elastic band?'
`I'm trying to quit cussing,' Sally said. 'Every time I cuss I snap the elastic band. It's supposed to make me not want to cuss anymore.'
'You should just say a different word than the cuss word,' Angie said. 'Something that sounds like the cuss word.'
'I've got it!' Grandma said. 'Fudge. That's what you should say.'
'Fudge,' Sally repeated. 'I don't know... I feel silly saving fudge.'
'What's the red stuff all over Aunt Stephanie?' Mary Alice wanted to know.
'Blood,' Grandma said. 'We were i
n a shoot-out. None of us got hurt, but Stephanie was helping out Eddie Gazarra. He was shot twice, and he had blood spurting all over the place.'
'Eeeuw,' Angie said.
Valerie's live-in boyfriend, Albert Kloughn, was seated next to me. He looked down at my blood-spattered arm and fainted. Crash. Right off his chair.
'He fucking fainted,' Sally said. 'Oh f-f-fudge.' Snap.
I was done with my cake, so I went to the kitchen and tried to clean up. Probably I should have cleaned up before coming to the table but I really needed the cake.
When I got back to the table Albert was sitting in his seat. I'm not squeamish or anything,' he said. 'I just slipped. It was one of those freak accidents.'
Albert Kloughn was about five foot seven, had sandy blond hair showing the beginnings of male pattern baldness, and the chubby face and body of a twelve-year-old. He was a lawyer, of sorts, and he was the father of Valerie's baby. He was a sweet guy, but he felt more like a pet than a future brother-in-law. His office was located next to a laundromat, and he dispensed more quarters than legal advice.
There was a light rap on the front door, the door opened, and
Joe walked in. My mother was immediately running for an extra plate, not sure where she was going to put it. Even with the leaf in, the table could only accommodate eight, and Joe made ten.
'Here,' Kloughn said, jumping to his feet, 'you can have my place. I'm done eating. I don't mind. Honest.'
'Isn't he a cuddle umpkins?' Valerie said.
Grandma hid behind her napkin and made a gagging gesture.
Morelli held his response to a benign smile. My father kept eating.
And it occurred to me that cuddle umpkins fit Kloughn perfectly.
How awful is that?
'Now that everyone's here, I have an announcement to make,'
Valerie said. 'Albert and I have set a date to get married.'
This was an important announcement because when Valerie was pregnant she was thinking she might hold out for Ranger or
Indiana Jones. This was a worrisome situation since it was unlikely either of those guys would be interested in marrying Valerie.
Valerie's opinion of Albert Kloughn improved with the birth of the baby, but until this moment my mother harbored the fear that she'd be saddled with Valerie gossip for the rest of her life. Unwed mothers, horrific painful deaths, and cheating husbands were the favorite topics of the Burg gossipmongers.
That's wonderful!' my mother said, clapping a hand to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. `I'm so happy for you.'
'A wedding!' Grandma said. 'I'll need a new dress. And we need a hall for the reception.' She dabbed at her eyes. 'Look at me...
I'm all teary.'
Valerie was crying, too. She was laughing and sniffling back sobs.
I'm going to marry my snuggy wuggums,' she said.
Morelli paused, his fork halfway to the roast chicken platter. He slid his eyes to me and leaned close. If you ever call me snuggy wuggums in public I'll lock you in the cellar and chain you to the furnace.'
Kloughn was standing at the end of the table with a glass of wine in his hand. I have to make a toast,' he said. 'To the future Mrs
Kloughn!'
My mother went still as stone. She hadn't totally thought through the consequences of Valerie's marriage to Albert. 'Valerie
Kloughn,' she said, trying not to show her horror.
'Holy crap,' my father said.
I leaned close to Morelli. 'Now I'm not the only clown in the family,' I whispered.
Morelli raised his glass. To Valerie Kloughn,' he said.
Kloughn drained his glass and refilled it. 'And to me! Because
I'm the luckiest man ever. I found my lovey pumpkin, my one true lovey dovey, my big fat sweetie pie.'
'Hey, wait a minute...' Valerie said. 'Big fat sweetie pie?'
Grandma refilled her wineglass, 'Somebody stun-gun him,' she said. 'I can't take no more.'
Kloughn rushed on. His face was flushed, and he'd started to sweat. I've even got a baby,' he said. 'I don't know how that happened. Well, I mean, I guess I know how it happened. I think it happened on the couch in there..."
Everyone but Joe sucked in some air. Joe was smiling. 'And to think, I almost missed this,' he whispered to me.
My mother looked like tomorrow she'd be shopping for a new couch. And my father was studying his butter knife... undoubtedly wondering how much damage he could do. Good thing the carving knife was in the kitchen.
'It usually takes Kloughns years to get pregnant,' Albert said.
'Historically we have a low mobility. Our guys can't swim. That's what my father always said. He said, Albert, don't expect to be a father, because Kloughns can't swim. And look at this. My guys could swim! It's not like I was even trying. I just couldn't figure out how to get the thingy on. And then once I got it on, but I think it had a hole in it, because it seemed like it was leaking. Wouldn't it be something if that was the time? Wouldn't it be something if my guys could swim through the thingy? Like I had Superman guys!'
Poor Snuggy Uggums was motoring down the road to doom, gaining momentum, out of control with no idea how to stop.
'Do something,' I said to Joe. 'He's dying.'
Morelli was still wearing his gun. He took it off his hip and pointed it at Kloughn. 'Albert,' he said, very calmly. 'Shut up.'
Thank you,' Kloughn said. And then he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his shirttail.
'What about dessert?' my father wanted to know. 'Isn't anyone going to serve dessert?'
It was close to nine when Morelli and I staggered through the front door to his town house. Bob-the-Dog came galloping from the kitchen to greet us, attempted a sliding stop on Morelli's polished wood floor, and slammed into Morelli. This was Bob's usual opening act, and Morelli had been braced for the hit. Bob was a big goofy orange-haired beast who ate everything that wasn't nailed down and had more enthusiasm than brains. He shoved past us and bounced out the door, in a rush to tinkle on Morelli's minuscule front yard. This was always Bob's first choice of bathroom, and as a result the grass was scorched brown. Bob returned to the house,
Morelli closed and locked the front door, and we stood there for a moment sucking in the silence.
This wasn't one of my better days,' I said to Morelli. 'My car was destroyed, I was involved in a shooting, and I just sat through the dinner from hell.'
Morelli slung an arm around me. 'Dinner wasn't that bad.'
'My sister talked cuddle umpkins to Kloughn for two hours, my mother and grandmother cried every time someone mentioned the wedding, Mary Alice whinnied nonstop, and the baby threw up on you.'
'Yeah, but aside from that
'Not to mention, Grandma got completely snookered and passed out at the table.'
'She was the smart one.' Morelli said.
'You were the hero.'
'I wouldn't actually have shot him,' Morelli said. 'Not to loll, anyway.'
'My family is a disaster!'
Morelli grinned. I've called you Cupcake for as long as I can remember, but I'm rethinking it after listening to the two hours of cuddle umpkins.'
'Just exactly what is a human-type cupcake?'
'It's like a cream puff but not as squishy. It's dessert. It's soft and sweet... and it's good to eat.'
The eating part gave me a rush that went straight to my doodah.
Morelli kissed me just below my earlobe and told me a few things about the right way to eat a cupcake. When he got to the part about licking the icing off the top, my nipples shrunk to the size and hardness of steel ball bearings.
'Boy, I'm really tired,' I said. 'Maybe we should be thinking about going to bed.'
'Good idea, Cupcake.'
I've been living with Morelli for several months now, and it's been surprisingly easy. We still like each other, and the magic hasn't gone out of the sex. Hard to imagine it ever would with Morelli. He's nice to my hamster, Rex. He doesn't expect me to make h
im breakfast. He's neat without being freaky about it. And he remembers to close the lid on the toilet... most of the time. What more can you ask from a man?
Morelli lives on a quiet street in a small, pleasant house he inherited from his Aunt Rose. The house mirrors my parents' house and every other house on Morelli's street. When I look out his bedroom window I see neatly parked cars and two-story redbrick attached town houses with clean windows. There are small trees and small shrubs in small yards. And behind the front doors are frequently large people. Food is good in Trenton.