Джанет Иванович - Twisted Twenty-Six

I paged through my documents, got to the bottom-line figure, and raised my hand.

“I’m not seeing any assets,” I said.

“That’s correct,” Ziggy said. “He had an insurance policy to cover burial, but aside from that, he was broke. He spent the last of his money on his vacation.”

“He was a successful professional,” Barbara said. “How could he be broke?”

“He didn’t get much work in his later years,” Ziggy said, “but he kept spending money.”

“What about his condo?”

“It isn’t a condo,” Ziggy said. “It’s an apartment. And the Mole Hole was jointly owned. Jimmy’s share goes to the remaining partners.”

“Good thing I waited to book Antarctica,” Grandma said.

“I don’t believe any of this,” Barbara said. “What about the keys?”

“There are no keys,” Ziggy said.

“Of course there are keys,” Barbara said. “Edna has them. We all know he gave them to Edna. And those keys are worth a fortune.”

Grandma rolled her eyes. “What a bean brain,” she said.

“Is that it?” Angie asked Ziggy.

“Yes,” Ziggy said.

“We came downtown for nothing?”

“Yes,” Ziggy said.

Everyone quietly filed out of the conference room. No one said anything. We all stood in front of the elevator, the doors opened, and everyone shuffled in.

“We’ll take the next one,” I said, stepping back.

“Good thinking,” Grandma said when the elevator doors closed in front of us.

—

My mother was ironing when I brought Grandma home.

“We’re okay,” I said. “You don’t need to iron.”

“This is just ordinary laundry-day ironing,” she said. “I heard about Jimmy’s will. I started getting phone calls ten minutes after you walked out of Ziggy’s office. Who would have thought Jimmy didn’t have money?”

“My Galapagos trip is canceled,” Grandma said, “but I’m still going to Gatlinburg.”

“Are you staying for dinner?” my mom asked me.

“No. I think I’ll see what Morelli is doing. I’m all dressed up, and I feel like going out to a fancy restaurant.”

There was a knock on the door, and Grandma went to answer it. I followed after her just in case it was Lou Salgusta with a blowtorch.

“It’s Benny’s young men,” Grandma said, looking out.

“Mrs. Rosolli,” one of the slick-haired kids said, “I hope we aren’t disturbing you, but we have a delivery to make from Mr. Benny the Skootch. Mr. Benny the Skootch said this is because Ms. Plum was so nice to him and brought him a pizza with the works. And Mr. Benny the Skootch always pays back. Are we allowed to deliver the package to you?”

“Of course,” Grandma said. “That’s very nice of him. How is he?”

“He’s well. He’s all stented up. He might get out of the hospital tomorrow.”

The two junior wiseguys hustled to a white van and pulled something huge out of the back door. It was wrapped in moving blankets and secured with bungee cords. They carried it into the house, Grandma and I stepped back, and they set it down in the living room.

“This really wasn’t necessary,” Grandma said. “What is it?”

“Mr. Benny the Skootch had a special close relationship with the late Jimmy,” the kid said. “He thought highly of him, and he wanted you to have this memento.”

They released the bungee cords and pulled the wraps off and stood back, overwhelmed with the occasion.

It was Jimmy’s La-Z-Boy.

Grandma and I were speechless. It was a lovely gesture, but it was horrible. The brown leather was scared and stained. The chair smelled like cigars and whiskey, and it had the clear imprint of Jimmy’s behind on the seat.

“Well,” Grandma said. “This is a . . . treasure. Please tell Mr. the Skootch that I’m very grateful.”

The two wiseguys were all smiles. “Yes ma’am,” they said.

They left, and Grandma closed the door after them. My mom came into the living room and gasped.

“What is that?” she said.

“It’s a present from Benny,” Grandma said. “It was Jimmy’s chair.”

My mother made the sign of the cross, and I thought it was a good thing she already had the ironing board up.

My father walked into the house. “I just pulled in and there was a white van leaving,” he said. “Did we get a delivery?”

I hooked my thumb at the chair.

“Whoa!” my father said. “Jeez Louise, where did that come from?”

“It’s a gift from Benny the Skootch,” I said.

“No kidding? I always liked him.” My father went over and sat in the chair. “Oh man, this is great. I always wanted a chair like this.” He put the footrest up and reclined the back. “Oh yeah,” he said. “Heaven.”

“It was Jimmy’s chair,” Grandma said.

My father got wide-eyed. “From the Mole Hole? No kidding?” He brought the back up and the footrest down and ran his hand along the leather. “Wait until the guys at the lodge hear about this.”

“It’s a little lumpy looking,” Grandma said.

“It just needs to be shook out,” my father said. “The cushion can probably get turned around.”

He picked the cushion up, and two long keys were lying on the seat bottom.

“It’s the keys,” I said.

Everyone went statue still and stared at the keys.

“Do you really think they’re the keys?” Grandma asked.

I picked them up. I’d seen keys like this before. They were keys to a safe.

“They’re engraved with six initials,” I said. “These are the La-Z-Boys keys. No one thought to look in the most obvious place.”

“We should call Joseph and turn them over to the police,” my mother said.

“No way,” Grandma said. “These are mine fair and square, and I’m going to find the treasure.”

“How are you going to do that?” I asked. “You have no idea where the safe is located.”

“You’ll find it,” Grandma said. “You’re good at finding things.”

“What about the two sicko killers that are still out there and want the keys?” I asked Grandma. “What about the three crazy sisters who want the keys? What about Barbara? Don’t you think it would be a good idea to give the keys over to the police and get on with our lives in a sane, less stressful fashion?”

“Indiana Jones wouldn’t do that,” Grandma said.

“I’m not Indiana Jones!”

“You could be if you wanted to be. You could be anything.”

I didn’t have a comeback for this. Truth is, I wouldn’t mind being Indiana Jones. He was brave and smart, and he could crack a whip and ride a horse. He didn’t like snakes, but he was okay with spiders.

“Indy would have curiosity about the keys,” Grandma said. “He’d want to go out there and see for himself, even if he had to hack his way through jungles and go into creepy caves and tombs.”

My mother was looking at Grandma as if she had corn growing out of her ears. My father was laid back in his new chair, eyes closed and a smile on his face.

I was smiling too. “Fortune and glory, Grandma. Fortune and glory. Let’s go find a treasure.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Over the course of the last 25 years, Janet Evanovichhas written a staggering 23 #1 New York Times bestsellers in the Stephanie Plum series. In addition to the Plum novels, Janet has co-written the New York Times bestselling series, Fox and O'Hare novels (including The Big Kahuna with Peter Evanovich), the Knight and Moon novels, the Lizzy and Diesel series, the Alexandra Barnaby novels, and coauthor of a graphic novel, Troublemaker , with her daughter, Alex.

Evanovich.com

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