“Who’s Bluttovich?” Connie wanted to know.
“He’s the bad guy,” I said. “He’s the one who caused all the death and destruction.”
“Count me in,” Lula said. “I want to see him, too.”
We found Bluttovich in the kitchen. He was cuffed, along with Mo, Eugene, the driver, and the other guy who helped with my abduction. Even in cuffs, Bluttovich was frightening, exuding anger like a toxic gas.
“You!” he said, fixing his crazy eyes on me.
I didn’t say anything to Bluttovich. I didn’t have to. I just wanted to see him in cuffs and know I was in the power seat. I felt good.
Lula was behind me. “What’s with the bump on your forehead?” she asked Bluttovich. “It’s big as a baseball.”
Bluttovich glared at Lula and snarled.
“Cripes,” Lula said to Bluttovich. “What the heck’s the matter with you? Where’s your manners?”
“Some guy in a cape called him an Orc and hit him with a bottle,” Eugene said. “We were sitting at the table, eating sandwiches, and next thing, all these Hobbits invaded the house and this one Hobbit rushed at Gregor with a red beer bottle and hit him in the head. And then the Hobbit kissed the bottle, and said it was his precious. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear the Hobbit looked like Vincent Plum.”
Morelli was on the other side of the room, talking to three guys in FBI jackets. They all had pads out, taking notes. Morelli was talking to the FBI guys, but he was looking at me. Our eyes caught and held for a moment, and he smiled.
I LEFT THE gray stone fortress with Lula, Connie, and Vinnie.
“You hit Bluttovich with my lucky bottle, didn’t you?” I said to Vinnie when Lula turned onto River Road.
“Yeah, “Vinnie said. “It was beautiful. We caught them all flat-footed. I saw Bluttovich at the table, and it all came together for me. I saw him at Sunflower’s house the day it burned down. I could have shot him. I had your gun, but I knew the cops were right behind us, so I smacked him in the face with the bottle.”
“So it was a lucky bottle after all,” Lula said.
“It’s not a lucky bottle,” Vinnie said. “It’s Lucky’s bottle. I talked to my mom this morning, and she said it was no secret about the bottle. Lucky was Pip’s guinea pig. Lucky’s ashes are in the bottle. Pip left it to Stephanie because she has a hamster. I guess he figured there was a rodent connection.”
I turned and stared at Vinnie. “All this time I’ve been carrying guinea pig ashes around?”
“Yeah,” Vinnie said. “Isn’t that a kicker?”
“I don’t mean to change the subject,” Lula said. “But we don’t got no bonds agency. What are we supposed to do every day?”
“And I don’t have Lucille,” Vinnie said.
“I bet I could help with that,” Lula said. “Maureen Brown and me are still friends. Suppose I get her to talk to Harry and tell him how it was all a misunderstanding and she wasn’t actually doing the dirty with you. Like, we could say her brother needed bonding out, and you were advising her.”
“Do you think Harry will believe that?” Vinnie asked.
“As a student of human nature, I learned that people believe what they want to believe,” Lula said. “Anyways, if we can get you and Lucille together, and Harry don’t want to kill you no more, maybe we can get him back into the bail bonds business. And if that happens, I want a couch that vibrates.”
“You got it,” Vinnie said.
Connie’s car was parked at the demolished bonds office. Lula dropped her first. Vinnie and I were next. Lula dropped us in my parking lot. Mooner and Chicaribbit and a bunch more Hobbits were right behind us in my Mercedes.
“Hey, dudes,” Mooner said to Vinnie and me. “Party tonight in the Love Bus.”
We both passed, and Mooner transferred the Hobbits to the RV and drove off.
“If I could borrow the Mercedes, I’d go try to talk to Lucille,” Vinnie said. “Maybe she’s calmed down. Maybe she misses me, too.”
I gave him the key. “Good luck.”
I let myself into my apartment and listened to the quiet. No Hobbits. No Vinnie. Just Rex and the soft whir of his wheel going round. I took Lucky’s bottle out of my purse and set it on the counter, next to Rex’s cage. I made a peanut butter sandwich and washed it down with my last beer.
I was still in the kitchen when Ranger called.
“Just checking in to make sure you’re at home and safe,” he said.
“I’m fine,” I told him. “How about you?”
“I’m good. We went through Bluttovich’s house and found enough drugs and stolen property to put him away for a long time. And the feds confiscated his files and computer. I’m sure they’ll find more evidence against him. And his crew will talk. Those guys aren’t heroes, and they don’t like Bluttovich. I’m going out of country for a few weeks. Tank will watch out for you. And I’ll be on my cell phone. I’ll be in touch when I get back. You owe me.” And he disconnected.
I took a shower and was about to dry my hair when my doorbell buzzed. I wrapped myself in a bath towel, went to the door, and looked out the security peephole at Morelli.
“What?” I asked, holding the door partially open.
“Can I come in?”
“I’m not dressed.”
Morelli stepped into my apartment and closed and locked the door behind him. “That’s perfect,” he said, “because I have something for you to wear.” And he dangled a lacy pink thong from his finger. “I stopped at the mall on the way home just now. I thought you’d look pretty in this.”
Janet Evanovich, Sizzling Sixteen
(Series: Stephanie Plum # 16)
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