Janet Evanovich - Plum Lovin'

"I would have left town," I said to Cramp.

"See, that's what most people would think, but I'm smarter than that. A couple women came into the shop to browse. Locals. And then another woman came in all by herself. And I knew she wasn't local because I saw her park. Right in front. So as soon as they all left I faked a robbery. Good, right?"

"Definitely movie stuff. I bet Brad Pitt could play your part."

"Brad Pitt would be good," Cramp said. "I could see Brad Pitt doing it."

"What did you do with the necklace? Did you plant it on the woman?"

"No. I trashed the necklace. There's a crawl space under the back room, and I threw it down there. I threw the gun down there after I shot myself, too."

"You shot yourself?"

"Yeah, I got carried away. I wanted to make it look real, but it hurt like a bitch. I didn't think it would hurt so much. Anyway, I guess it was worth it because everyone bought the story. I told everybody the lady walked out with the necklace. The cops went after her, and Delvina went looking for her, too. Delvina really wants that necklace."

"Does the real necklace still exist?"

"Hell, no. The stones got reset right away. I don't know what my guy does with the setting. Melt it down, maybe." Cramp looked at the bottle of Jack. Almost empty. "You think we can get to it now?"

"To it?"

"Yeah, you know, the thing we came up here for."

I felt my cell phone buzz in my bag. I retrieved the phone and answered the call.

"Are you okay?" Diesel asked.

"Yeah."

"Do you need help?"

"There's no emergency but assistance might be good at this point. Where are you?"

"I'm just outside the pawnshop."

"It's locked."

"Not anymore." And he disconnected.

"Who was that?" Cramp asked.

"My pimp."

"Jesus, I told you and told you I don't have any money. What do you want? Take anything in the shop. How about some jewelry? It's all fake but it's still good shit."

Diesel strolled into the front room and looked at Cramp, and I could see Cramp start to sweat through his shirt.

"Is there a problem?" Diesel asked.

"No problem," Cramp said. "I told her to take anything she wanted from the shop. Hell, she didn't even do anything."

Diesel slid a look my way. "Is that right?"

I shrugged.

Cramp looked at Diesel. "Are you going to hit me?"

"Maybe," Diesel said.

Cramp's nose was running and his eyes were red-rimmed and tearing up. I was starting to feel sorry for him. He was such a pathetic little worm.

"You aren't a cop, are you?" Cramp asked me.

"No. I'm not a cop."

Cramp looked over at Diesel.

"He's not a cop either," I said. "Actually, I'm not sure what he is."

Diesel didn't crack a smile. "Do we have any more business here?"

"No. He hasn't got any money."

"Then it looks to me like we're done here," Diesel said. "Let's roll."

"Here's a parting message," I said to Cramp. "If it looks too good to be true, it probably is."

Diesel wrapped his arm around my neck when we got outside. "What was with the profound message?"

"He thought I was a hooker and he was going to get a freebie."

Diesel hugged me to him. "The guy's a moron. Anyone can see you're not the sort of girl who gives freebies."

"Gee, thanks. I told him you were my pimp."

"Lucky me."

"He has the supposedly stolen necklace and the assault gun in a crawl space under the back room. Do you think we should get it?"

"No, but I think you should call it in to Morelli. Let him send someone over to retrieve it."

I filled Diesel in on Delvina.

"Good work," Diesel said. "You learned a lot."

"And what about Annie? Do you think it's possible that Delvina has Annie?"

"I think it's possible that Delvina tossed Annie's house and wants the necklace. I don't see how Delvina could get to Annie."

"Coincidence? Maybe she stepped out for air, and he happened to be driving down the street."

"That's a big coincidence."

"I haven't got anything else."

"Me either," Diesel said. "Let's talk to Mr. Delvina."

"Oh no. You can talk to Delvina. You're Iron Man. And you don't live here. I'm just wimpy Stephanie from the Burg. If Delvina shoots holes in me, all my vital fluids will leak out, and I'll end up looking like Stanley Cramp."

"Wouldn't want any fluids to leak out of you that weren't supposed to," Diesel said. "I'll track Delvina, and you check on Annie's couples. We're coming up on Valentine's Day. Don't want any snafus."

My phone rang while I sat in my car watching Diesel drive away.

"Hey cupcake," Morelli said. "Just checking in. Anything I need to know?"

"Speak of the devil. I was just going to call you. I have some information to share. Vinnie bonded out a woman named Annie Hart. She supposedly robbed a pawnshop and shot the owner in the foot."

"I remember that," Morelli said. "The pawnshop owner is a little weasel named Stanley Cramp."

"Yeah. Turns out Cramp faked the robbery and shot himself in the foot. The gun and the necklace are in a crawl space under the back room. I can give you more details later, but you should get someone over there before Cramp decides to get rid of the evidence."

"I'll call it in. Hows everything else?"

"It's really slow at the bonds office. Only one big outstanding… and that was Annie Hart. Bob is good. He's visiting with my parents today. Diesel's in town."

"Diesel?"

"Yeah, you remember Diesel, right?"

"Ranger's half-brother."

"He's not Ranger's half-brother."

"He might as well be. They both run in the fast lane with their lights off."

"You used to do that."

"No. I was an asshole. I never actually thought I was Rat-man."

"I see your point."

"I'm locked away in a sleazoid motel, doing my cop thing. Do I need to come home?"

"Nope. I've got it all under control."

"Good to know," Morelli said. "I should have this wrapped up Tuesday or Wednesday. See you then." And he disconnected.

I cut down to Klockner Roulevard and then to Hamilton and left-turned into the Burg. I eased to a stop in front of my parents' house and killed the engine. Grandma was at the storm door, looking out at me, driven there by some mysterious inner radar that tells her when a granddaughter is approaching. Not that different from Diesel, when you think about it.

"Just in time," Grandma said to me, holding the door open. "Your sister is here, and we got a nice coffee cake from the bakery."

Bob heard my voice and came thundering down the hall, ears flopping, tongue out, google-eyed. He slid on the polished wood floor and plowed into me, knocking me into the wall.

I scratched his head and gave him a hug, and he galloped back to the kitchen and the coffee cake.

"He's been such a good boy," Grandma said. "It makes a house feel like a home when you got a dog in it. And he didn't hardly eat anything this time. The TV Guide and a loaf of bread, but the good thing was he horked up the plastic wrap."

Valerie was at the little kitchen table. She had the baby on her lap and coffee in front of her.

"Where are the girls?" I asked.

"Playgroup," Valerie said. "They go every day now."

I sliced off a chunk of coffee cake and out of habit I stood at the sink to eat.

My mother put a plate and fork and napkin on the table. "Sit," she said. "It's not good for your digestion to eat at the sink. You eat too fast. You don't even chew. Did you chew that piece of cake?"

I didn't know if I'd chewed it. I couldn't even remember eating it, but my hand was empty, and I had crumbs on my shirt, so I guess that said it all.

I pulled a chair out across from Valerie and sat down. It was too late to eat my cake in a civilized manner… unless I had a second piece. I checked out the waistband on my jeans. Snug. Shit.