Janet Evanovich - Plum Spooky

His eyes slid closed.

“Wake up,” I yelled at him.

“Now what?” he said.

“I don‘t remember a lot about last night. We didn‘t… I mean, you didn‘t…”

“Honey, being intimate with me is not a forgettable experience.”

“I guess that‘s good to know.”

“Yeah, file it for future reference. What time is it?”

“It‘s almost eight o‘clock.”

Diesel sighed and rolled away from me. “I hate mornings. They start so early.”

I left the bed and gathered my clothes up from the floor. “Did you get anything useful last night at the bonds office?”

“I printed out a copy of Munch‘s doctoral thesis, but didn‘t get a chance to read it. I‘m hoping it‘ll tell me something about the theft at the research center. I‘d like to know why he took the magnetometer. Nothing else local turned up on Munch. It‘s like he has no life. Scanlon shows some promise. His sister, Roberta Scanlon, has a house in north Philadelphia. He had a second sister, Gail, but she‘s like smoke. Eugene Scanlon was also heavily in debt. He defaulted on a car loan and had two credit cards in collection. His research isn‘t published, but he was Munch‘s project supervisor, so they had to be working in similar areas.”

I carted my clothes into the bathroom and locked the door, not that it would make a difference. I took a shower, gave my hair a two-minute blast with the dryer, and got dressed. Diesel was sleeping when I came out. I took a moment to study him, thinking he was heart-stoppingly handsome in a rugged, outdoorsy kind of way. His initial appearance was beach bum, but I‘d come to decide that was a façade. Diesel was driven by his job. The job itself was open for discussion. If he was to be believed, he was a kind of paranormal bounty hunter. I thought it was just as possible he was a contract killer or a career nutcase.

I went to the kitchen and fed Rex and Carl and got coffee brewing. I dropped a bagel into the toaster and took a tub of cream cheese out of my fridge. Diesel might not be much of a cook, but he sure as heck knew how to stock a kitchen.

I heard the shower running in the bathroom, and minutes later, Diesel strolled in looking for coffee. He poured himself a mug and ate half my bagel.

“I want to take the morning to wade through Munch‘s thesis,” Diesel said. “When I‘m done with the thesis, I thought we could visit Roberta Scanlon.”

Carl came into the kitchen and handed me his empty cereal box. He jumped onto the counter, got a mug out of the cupboard, and helped himself to coffee.

“This apartment smells like a monkey,” Diesel said. Carl gave him the finger and went back to the tele -vision.

“I‘m out of here,” I said to Diesel. “I‘m taking another shot at Gordo Bollo today. This time, I‘m ready. I‘ve got a stun gun, pepper spray, and cuffs.”

“Kick ass,” Diesel said. “If you aren‘t home by noon, I‘ll have you teleported back here.”

I must have looked horrified because he burst out laughing.

“I‘m falling in love,” Diesel said. “You‘re the only one on this earth who believes everything I say.”

I tried really hard not to roll my eyes, but I couldn‘t help myself and rolled them anyway. I grabbed my bag and flounced out of the apartment. It wasn‘t so much that I believed what Diesel said. It was more that I was terrified it might be true.

LULA WAS FILING when I swung into the office.

“What are you doing?” I asked her.

“I‘m filing. What does it look like I‘m doing? It‘s my job, you know.”

“You never file.”

“Your ass,” Lula said.

“I‘m paying a visit to Greenblat Produce this morning,” I said. “Anyone need fruit?”

“Hell yeah,” Lula said. “I‘m not missing that. I was in the car when all the action went down last time.”

I could happily do without that kind of action. Still, we took my Jeep, just in case there was another tomato incident. Lula didn‘t want to veg up her Firebird.

I drove to Greenblat and parked in the lot. I got out of the Jeep and transferred the pepper spray, stun gun, and cuffs from my bag to my jeans for easier access.

“Don‘t you worry,” Lula said. “If he starts something this time, you gonna have Lula there. I‘ll sit on Bowling Ball Head and squash him into a pancake.”

“Fine. Just don‘t shoot him.”

“Did I say I was gonna shoot him? Did you hear me say that?”

“I was only reminding you.”

“You got a thing about shooting people. I bet Diesel shoots lots of people.”

“Diesel doesn‘t carry a gun.”

“Get out of town!”

I entered the office, said hello to the Connie clones, and went straight to the door leading to the ware house. I walked up and down aisles formed by stacks of crates and found Bollo putting little stickers on apples.

“Look who‘s here,” Bollo said, spotting me. “Come back for more tomatoes?”

“You need to come with me to get rescheduled.”

Bollo palmed an apple. “No.”

“If you hit me with that apple, I‘m going to let Lula shoot you,” I said.

Bollo looked past me. “I don‘t see no Lula.”

I turned and scanned the aisle. He was right. No Lula.

“She was here a minute ago,” I said.

“Well, she ain‘t here now.”

I shouted her name, and she rounded a stack of crated oranges at the end of the aisle.

“You looking for me?” Lula said, her arms filled with fruit and vegetables.

“Yes, I‘m looking for you. You‘re supposed to be my backup. What are you doing?”

“I‘m shopping. This place got really good produce. I got some grapefruit and a eggplant, and look at these red pears. And I got a dozen eggs. They even got fresh eggs here.”

“We don’t sell produce here, fatso,” Bollo said. “We only distribute to stores. Put them back.”

Lula’s eyes bugged out of her head. “Did you just call me fatso? Did I hear that right?”

“Yeah,” Bollo said. “What of it?”

“That’s a mean thing to say. And it isn’t even true. I’m just a big and beautiful woman. I got more of all the good stuff than most other women. And people who have heads like bowling balls should watch what they say about other people. You’re lucky I’m not a vicious person, because if I was vicious, I’d call you Coconut Head. Or Gordo Gourdhead.”

And then Lula bounced a grapefruit off Coconut Head’s forehead. And Coconut Head tagged her with the apple he’d been holding. And what happened after that was a blur of flying fruit and eggs. I had my stun gun in my hand, but it was hard to get to Bollo and dodge the fruit at the same time. I finally managed to get the prongs on him, I hit the go button, and nothing happened. No juice.

Bollo shoved me away, and I lost my footing, sliding on fruit slime. I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and took him down with me. I was hanging on to him, and he was trying to get away, and Lula fired off a shot to the ceiling.

“Next bullet’s gonna be up your ass,” Lula said to Bollo.

Bollo paused to consider that, and a rat dropped from an overhead rafter and landed inches from Lula in her red patent-leather stilettos.

“Damn rats are all over the place,” Bollo said.

Lula just about went white. “I hate rats,” she said. “I hate rats more than I hate monkeys.”

The rat twitched, its beady black eyes blinked open, and it got to its feet.

“You just stunned him,” Bollo said to Lula. “Shoot him again.”

Lula took aim and the rat charged at her. Personally, I think the rat didn’t know what the heck it was doing, but Lula freaked.

“Eeeeeeee,” Lula shrieked, dancing around in her heels, arms in the air, completely apeshit.