Janet Evanovich - Motor Mouth

“I’m gonna need some Pepto-Bismol when I’m done here,” Rosa said.

“Sorry,” I said to Suzanne, “you’ll have to replicate the circuit board. But at least your technology won’t get stolen.”

“What’s this?” Simon wanted to know.

“Dog poop,” I said, handing the bag over to him. “We didn’t have time to look through it for the circuit board, but I’m sure it’s in there. Beans is all cleaned out.”

“No kidding. This is a gallon bag of dog shit. Jeez, you could at least have double bagged it.”

“I was in a hurry. I didn’t want Hooker to lose any fingers.” I looked around. “Where’s Hooker?”

“He’s in the car with Fred. I’m going to have to call Miranda on this. I wasn’t expecting a sack of shit.”

“It was the best I could do on short notice,” I said.

Simon and I were standing in the parking lot next to the Royal Palm Deli. Rosa was idling in the slot closest to the driveway. Suzanne and Felicia had Simon in their sights, giving him the squinty-eye, guns in hand, ready to “take him down” should I give the signal. An SUV with tinted windows idled at the other end of the lot. Hard to tell who was inside the SUV.

Simon studied me behind his dark glasses. “Just between you and me, if I hadn’t left you at the bar last night, would I have gotten to nail you?”

“You don’t expect me to tell you, do you?”

He looked at the gallon of dog poop. “I guess I know the answer.”

Simon put the poop in the back of the SUV and flipped his cell phone open. He held a short conversation with someone at the other end, presumably Miranda, the phone was flipped closed, and Simon walked back to me.

“Miranda says we bring the bag and Hooker back to the house, and when we find the circuit board we’ll let Hooker go.”

“The deal was that we’d swap here. I want my poop back.”

“Lady, I’d love to give you your poop back, but no can do. The boss wants the poop .”

I trudged back to the Camry and got in next to Beans. “They’re going to release Hooker when they find the circuit board.”

The black SUV pulled away, and Rosa cranked the Camry over. “Okay, ladies,” she said. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

“What does that mean?” I asked Rosa.

“It means we have to kick some ass and get Hooker out.”

“That sounds good on paper,” I said to Rosa. “But we’re not exactly a SWAT team. I think it’s time to bring in the police.”

Suzanne was in the back with me, sitting on the other side of Beans. “Easy for you to say,” Suzanne said. “You didn’t just kidnap Ray Huevo. I’m in favor of us going in and solving the problem ourselves. I work out, and I can shoot, and I’m in the mood to do some damage,” she said, selecting a gun from the pocket in front of her. “I’m putting my name on this Glock nine.”

We drove to the house and Rosa sat at idle in front of the gate. The gate was closed and attached to a six-foot solid-stucco fence that encircled the property. From what we could see of the grounds, we would have to get over the fence and then cover some open grass before reaching the house. A small metal medallion attached to the front gate told us the property was protected by All Season Security.

“It would be better if we could do this in the dark,” Rosa said.

I looked at the sky. The sun was low. Maybe an hour until sunset. Maybe a little more. An hour felt like a long time to leave Hooker in there with the finger chopper.

“It’ll take them a while to go through a gallon of poop,” Felicia said. “They gonna have to put it in a strainer little by little and power wash it.”

We all made gagging sounds.

“I think we have until the next phone call,” Suzanne said. “If they don’t find the circuit board, they’ll call. They don’t know for certain that this was a setup.”

We were parked four houses down from the estate where they were holding Hooker hostage, the Camry tucked back into the driveway of an ungated and unoccupied house. We’d carefully watched the street for activity, but there’d been nothing to see. No cars coming or going. No one out for a stroll. We watched the sun set in a brilliant display of fluorescent orange and pink. We watched the sky change from dusk to dark.

“This is it,” Rosa said. “Showtime.”

We armed ourselves, got out of the Camry, and started walking down the street. Rosa, Felicia, Suzanne, and me. Beans was left behind, and he wasn’t liking it. Beans was in the car, barking loud enough to raise the dead.

“You got to do something with doggie,” Felicia said. “People gonna call the cops on us.”

I went back to the car, opened the door, and Beans bounded out. I took the leash, and he pranced beside me. He was happy. He was going for a walk with everyone.

“When I die I want to come back as this doggie,” Felicia said.

We stopped when we got to the gate. It was still closed and locked. Beyond the gate we could see the BMW parked in the courtyard. The house was dark. Not a single light burning.

“Maybe they have black-out shades,” Rosa said.

“Maybe they’re watching a movie on television,” Felicia said.

Maybe they’re waiting for us, I thought.

Lights were also off in neighboring houses. This wasn’t high season in Florida. Not a lot of the rich folks in residence. We walked off the road and chose a spot where the shadows were deep.

“We gonna have to alley-oop over the wall,” Felicia said.

Rosa and I linked hands and gave Suzanne a boost up.

“Everything looks quiet inside the wall,” Suzanne whispered. She straddled the wall and silently dropped out of sight.

Felicia was next to go.

“I can’t reach,” she said, one foot in our hands. “I have to climb on your shoulders. Hold still.”

Felicia managed to get onto Rosa’s shoulders, I got my hand under her ass and gave her a shove, and she went over the wall and landed on the other side with a thud.

Rosa and I looked at Beans. He was alert, watching us, watching the wall.

“I swear, he’s waiting to go over,” Rosa said.

“We need one of those bucket trucks the phone company uses.”

“If we can get Felicia over the wall, we can get him over the wall,” Rosa said.

We stood him up on his hind legs with his two front paws against the wall, and we got our hands under his big dog butt.

“ Heave , ” Rosa said.

We both gave a grunt and got Beans about three feet off the ground.

“Christ,” Rosa said, “it’s like lifting a hundred-and-fifty-pound sandbag.”

“Here, doggie,” Felicia whispered from the other side of the wall. “Nice Beansy.”

“Come to Aunt Sue,” Suzanne cooed. “Come on. You can do it. Come to Aunt Suzy Woozy!”

“On the count of three,” Rosa said. “One, two, three !”

We took a deep breath and hefted Beans up another foot and a half. Somehow he got a back paw on Rosa’s chest and pushed himself high enough to get his two front feet dug into the top of the wall. I got my head under his rear end, and when I stood straight he went over. There was a gasp and a thud and then there was silence.

“Is Beans okay?” I whispered.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Suzanne said. “He landed on Felicia. It might take her a minute to catch her breath.”

Rosa went up next, with a lot more blind determination than grace. She straddled the wall, turned onto her stomach, we locked hands and everyone pulled me over.

We were all plastered against the wall. A swath of grass lay between us and the house. Maybe thirty feet deep. When we ran across the grass, we’d be exposed to view.