Janet Evanovich: Smokin Seventeen

“Hard to believe. It was found in the same area.”

I held my hand out. “Give me two more Tums for the road. I have to go home.”

“You don’t have to go home.”

“I’m getting a headache. I need to go home and put a pillow over my face.”

“Will that help?”

“It worked this afternoon.”

He gave me the bottle of Tums. “Take the whole bottle. I’ve got more. You know where to find me when the headache goes away.”

• • •

It was dark when I reached the lot to my apartment building. I rode around looking for Regina’s car, Dave’s parents’ car, and Nick Alpha’s car. I didn’t see any of them, so I parked and crossed to the back door. I was talking to myself again, getting into the elevator.

“This is getting old,” I said. “I’m tired of looking for people who want to kill me. It’s exhausting. And what am I supposed to do with Morelli, and my missing sex drive, and my job that’s not bringing in any money?”

I popped a couple more Tums, rode to the second floor, and unlocked my door. I stepped in, closed and locked the door, and realized Dave was in my kitchen.

“Surprise,” he said.

I turned to leave, and he put himself between me and the door.

I stepped away from him and narrowed my eyes. “Get out.”

“I just got here.”

“How did you get in?”

“I took a key out of the drawer last time I was here cooking.”

I walked into the kitchen and took the lid off the cookie jar. No gun.

“I have the gun,” he said. “Not that I need it.”

I threw the lid at him, and he ducked away. I grabbed the cookie jar and whacked him on the side of his head. He staggered back, and pulled himself together.

“You should stop hitting me,” he said, snatching the cookie jar out of my hand, throwing it across the room. “What did I ever do to you?”

“For starters you broke into my apartment.”

“I didn’t break in. I walked in. I have a key … like Morelli.”

“I gave Morelli a key, and you stole yours.”

“That’s not all I’m stealing. I’m stealing you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just like Morelli stole my girl back in high school. I took her to the prom and Morelli took her to bed. She was wearing my class ring and my corsage. She was my date, and he seduced her in the school parking lot.”

“He seduced every girl in the school in the parking lot. And one in a bakery. You can’t take it personally.”

“The hell I can’t. I’ve got his girl now. And I’m going to even the score.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Dead or alive,” Dave said. “Your choice.”

Okay, that was scary. I was doing pretty good up to that point, but that took my breath away.

“You killed Lou Dugan, didn’t you?”

He grinned. “I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out. I ran around the car just for you tonight. I knew you’d watched the tape from the crime scene. Pretty cool, right? And the bodies I addressed to you. Did that freak Morelli out?”

“Yeah.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “I’ve had really crapola luck lately. My life hasn’t been a lot of fun. Lost my house, my dog, my car, and my job. Lost my wife, but good riddance to that one. Went to jail for a while. Not a good experience. And to add insult to injury I had to move in with my parents. So I’m feeling pretty down. I’m working at a shit job. Had to kill my cousin to get it. Plus I’m busting ass killing all those fucking poker players. And one day, like a gift from God, my mother presents me with you. She meets your mother in the checkout line at the market, and it’s ordained from that moment on that you’re mine. And life is fun again.”

“Has it occurred to you that you might be crazy?”

“I don’t feel crazy.”

“You killed five people!”

“Actually it was seven. No wait, there were two in Georgia. Nine.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“No. It was easy. I guess I just have a talent for killing people. I’m good at it. I snap their necks. No blood. Okay, sometimes they spit up a little, but it’s not like getting shot.”

I’d faced down my share of crazy killers, but never someone this cold. I did my best to keep it together. I didn’t think Dave was the sort of guy who would respond well to drama. “Ick!”

“The hard part is getting rid of them. I buried the two in Georgia in a cornfield. No one’s found them. I drove my cousin and her boyfriend down to the Pine Barrens and set the car on fire. I was worried about DNA, but honestly I don’t think DNA is all it’s cracked up to be.”

“You did it to get a job?”

“Yeah. Smart, right? Not only did I get her job, but she’d lifted money from the company safe, and I got the money, too.”

“And Lou Dugan?”

“I was sort of in business with Dugan. I went to school with his son, and I was over to his house a lot when I was a kid. When I moved to Georgia I stayed in touch with Lou. He was a sharp businessman. I learned a lot from him. I was making foreclosures at the bank, and Lou saw a way to make money on them. I’d foreclose on some loser’s house, and Dugan would buy it for way under market value through one of his holding companies. And then we figured out how we could get creative, and by manipulating some paperwork we could snatch houses right out from under people. Problem was we yanked a mortgage from some whiner who didn’t just roll over when he lost his house.”

“That’s when you went to jail?”

“I was only in jail until my bail bond was set. I got out and started cleaning house. I got rid of the two men under me who knew what was going on. They could have testified, and I would have been sent away for a long, long time.”

“The cornfield?”

“Yeah. And then Lou got nervous. I got my kickback from him in cash, but he was sitting there with all these hot properties in his holding companies.”

“Do you still have the money?”

“The lawyers have the money. Trial lawyers and divorce lawyers. I should have been a lawyer. The only money I have came from the stash my cousin stole.”

“So you killed Lou because he was nervous?”

“He’d transferred a load of money into a Buenos Aires bank, and he was getting ready to disappear. Asked me to drive him to the airport. He was taking a red-eye. I had a feeling he was going to kill me, so I killed him first.”

“Just like that.”

“Yep. Came up behind him, choked him, and broke his neck. And then I had the same stupid body problem. I was driving him around in his car, thinking it was like that movie Weekend at Bernie’s . And I drive down Hamilton Avenue and see the backhoe sitting out in the bonds office lot. It’s three in the morning. No traffic. As dark as a witch’s heart. And there’s a backhoe waiting to dig a grave.

“My mistake was that I didn’t dig it deep enough. I buried Lucarelli deeper, but they found him anyway. Then I decided to have some fun with Juki and Kulicki. I knew the security people installed video. What did you think of the Frankenstein mask? Good touch, right?”

“I understand why you killed Dugan. I don’t get the other murders.”

“I had to clean house. Lucarelli was the lawyer who processed all the paper, and Kulicki moved a lot of the transactions through his bank. Sam Grip worked for Dugan and knew everything . Grip knew when Dugan passed gas. Juki was sleeping with Grip, and she knew everything he knew. The whole thing is just so fucking complicated. Who would have thought? It’s like a sweater that starts to unravel. I mean, I can’t kill people fast enough.”

“So it didn’t have anything to do with the poker game?”