Hard Eight (5 page)

“The hell I am. This here’s a rental. They got insurance on stuff like this.” She knocked out a few remaining pieces of glass, stuck her arm through the open window, and unlocked the door.

I pulled some disposable rubber gloves out of my bag and we snapped them on. No point leaving prints all over since this was sort of an illegal entry. With the kind of luck I had, someone would come in and burgle the place and the police would find my prints.

Lula and I slipped into the kitchen and closed the door behind us. It was a small kitchen, and with Lula next to me we were wall-to-wall people.

“Maybe you should do lookout in the front room,” I said. “Make sure no one walks in on us.”

“Lookout is my middle name,” Lula said. “No one will get by me.”

I started with the countertop, going through the usual kitchen clutter. There were no messages written on the pad by the phone. I rifled through a pile of junk mail. Aside from some nice towels on sale in the Martha Stewart line, there wasn’t anything of interest. A drawing of a house done in red and green crayon was taped to the refrigerator. Annie’s, I thought. The dishes were neatly stacked in over-the-counter cupboards. Glasses were spotless and lined by threes on the shelves. The refrigerator was filled with condiments but empty of food that might spoil. No milk or orange juice. No fresh vegetables or fruit.

I drew some conclusions from the kitchen. Evelyn’s cupboard was better stocked than mine. She left quickly but still took the time to get rid of the milk. If she was a drunk or on drugs or loony tunes, she was a
responsible
drunk or druggie or loony.

I didn’t find anything of help in the kitchen, so I moved on to the dining room and living room. I opened drawers and checked under cushions.

“You know where I’d go if I had to hide out?” Lula said. “I’d go to Disney World. Have you ever been to Disney World? I’d especially go there if I had a problem, because everybody’s happy at Disney World.”

“I’ve been to Disney World seven times,” Kloughn said.

Lula and I both jumped at his voice.

“Hey,” Lula said, “you’re supposed to be in the car.”

“I got tired of waiting.”

I gave Lula the evil eye.

“I was watching,” Lula said. “I don’t know how he got past me.” She turned to Kloughn. “How’d you get in here?”

“The back door was open. And the window was broken. You didn’t break the window, did you? You could get into big trouble for something like that. That’s breaking and entering.”

“We found the window like that,” Lula said. “That’s how come we’re wearing gloves. We don’t want to screw up the evidence if anything’s been stolen.”

“Good thinking,” Kloughn said, his eyes getting bright, his voice up an octave. “Do you really think stuff has been stolen? You think anybody got roughed up?”

Lula looked at him like she’d never seen anybody that dumb before.

“I’m checking upstairs,” I said. “You two stay down here and don’t touch anything.”

“What are you looking for upstairs?” Kloughn wanted to know, following me up the stairs. “I bet you’re looking for clues that’ll lead you to Evelyn and Annie. You know where I’d look? I’d look—”

I whirled around, almost knocking him off his feet. “
Down
” I said, pointing stiff-armed, shouting at him nose to nose. “Go sit on the couch and don’t get up until I tell you.”

“Yeesh,” he said. “You don’t have to yell at me. Just tell me, okay? Boy, it must be one of those days for you, hunh?”

I narrowed my eyes. “One of
what
days?”

“You know.”

“It is
not
one of those days,” I said.

“Yeah, she’s like this on a good day,” Lula said. “You don’t want to know what she’s like on one
of those
days.”

I left Lula and Kloughn downstairs, and I poked through the bedrooms on my own.

There were still clothes hanging in the closets and folded in dresser drawers. Evelyn must have only taken essentials. Either her disappearance was temporary or else she was in a rush to leave. Maybe both.

As far as I could tell there was no sign of Steven. Evelyn had sanitized the house of him. There were no leftover men’s toiletries in the bathroom, no forgotten men’s belts lurking in the closet, no family photo in a silver frame. I’d done a similar house cleaning when I’d divorced Dickie. Still, for months after our breakup I’d get bushwhacked by an overlooked item . . . a man’s sock that had dropped behind the washing machine, a set of car keys that had gotten kicked under the couch and been given up for lost.

The medicine chest contained the usual . . . a bottle of Tylenol, a bottle of kids’ cough syrup, dental floss, nail scissors, mouthwash, box of Band-Aids, talcum powder. No uppers or downers. No hallucinogens. No happy pills. Also, conspicuously missing was anything alcoholic. No wine or gin stashed in kitchen cupboards. No beer in the fridge. Could be Carol was mistaken about the booze and pills. Or could be Evelyn took it all with her.

Kloughn popped his head around the bathroom door-jamb. “You don’t mind if I look, too, do you?”

“Yes! I mind. I told you to stay on the couch. And what’s Lula doing? She was supposed to keep her eye on you.”

“Lula’s doing watch out. That doesn’t take two people,
so I decided to help you search. Did you already look in Annie’s room? I just looked in there, and I didn’t find any clues, but her drawings were real scary. Did you look at her drawings? I’m telling you, that’s a messed-up kid. It’s television. All that violence.”

“The only picture I saw was of a red-and-green house.”

“Did the red look like blood?”

“No. It looked like windows.”

“Uh-oh,” Lula said from the front room.

Damn. I hate
uh-oh
. “What?” I yelled down at her.

“There’s a car pulled up behind your CR-V.”

I peeked out Evelyn’s bedroom window. It was a black Lincoln Towncar. Two guys got out and started walking toward Evelyn’s front door. I grabbed Kloughn’s hand and pulled him down the stairs after me. Don’t panic, I thought. The door’s locked. And they can’t see in. I made a sign for everyone to be quiet, and we all stood still as statues, barely breathing, while one of the men rapped on the door.

“Nobody home,” he said.

I carefully exhaled. They’d leave now, right? Wrong. There was the sound of a key being inserted in the lock. The lock clicked, and the door swung open.

Lula and Kloughn lined up behind me. The two men stood their ground on the front porch.

“Yes?” I asked, trying to look like I belonged to the house.

The men were late forties, early fifties. Medium height. Built solid. Dressed in business suits. Both Caucasian. Didn’t look especially happy to see the Three Stooges in Evelyn’s house.

“We’re looking for Evelyn,” one of the men said.

“Not here,” I told him. “And you would be?”

“Eddie Abruzzi. And this is my associate, Melvin Darrow.”

Oh boy. Eddie Abruzzi. Talk about a day going into the toilet.

“It’s been brought to my attention that Evelyn moved out,” Abruzzi said. “You wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?”

“No,” I said. “But as you can see, she hasn’t moved out.”

Abruzzi looked around. “Her furniture’s here. That doesn’t mean she hasn’t moved out.”

“Well, technically . . .” Kloughn said.

Abruzzi squinted at Kloughn. “Who are you?”

“I’m Albert Kloughn. I’m Evelyn’s lawyer.”

This got a smile out of Abruzzi. “Evelyn hired a clown for a lawyer. Perfect.”

“K-l-o-u-g-h-n,” Albert Kloughn said.

“And I’m Stephanie Plum,” I said.

“I know who you are,” Abruzzi said. His voice was eerily quiet, and his pupils were shrunk to the size of pinpricks. “You killed Benito Ramirez.”

Benito Ramirez was a heavyweight boxer who tried to kill me on several occasions and finally was shot on my
fire escape, poised to break through my window. He was criminally insane and flat-out evil, taking pleasure and finding strength through other people’s pain.

“I owned Ramirez,” Abruzzi said. “I had a lot of time and money invested in him. And I understood him. We enjoyed many of the same pursuits.”

“I didn’t kill him,” I said. “You know that, don’t you?”

“You didn’t pull the trigger . . . but you killed him all the same.” He turned his attention to Lula. “I know who you are, too. You’re one of Benito’s whores. How did it feel to spend time with Benito? Did you enjoy it? Did you feel privileged? Did you learn anything?”

“I don’t feel so good,” Lula said. And she fainted dead away, crashing into Kloughn, taking him down with her.

Lula had been brutalized by Ramirez. He’d tortured her and left her for dead. But Lula hadn’t died. Turns out, it’s not so easy to kill Lula.

Unlike Kloughn, who looked like he might be ready to cash in his chips any minute. Kloughn was squashed under Lula with only his feet showing, doing a good imitation of the Wicked Witch of the East when Dorothy’s house fell on her. He made a sound that was half squeak, half death rattle. “Help,” he whispered. “I can’t breathe.”

Darrow grabbed one of Lula’s legs and I grabbed an arm, and we rolled Lula off Kloughn.

Kloughn lay there for a moment, eyes glazed, breath shallow. “Does anything look broken?” he asked. “Did I mess myself?”

“What are you doing here?” Abruzzi asked. “And how did you get in?”

“We came to visit Evelyn,” I said. “The back door was open.”

“You and your fat whore friend always wear rubber gloves?”

Lula opened an eye. “Who you calling fat?” She opened the other eye. “What happened? What am I doing on the floor?”

“You fainted,” I told her.

“That’s a lie,” she said, getting to her feet. “I don’t faint. I never fainted once in my life.” She looked over at Kloughn, who was still on his back. “What’s with him?”

“You landed on him.”

“Squashed me like a bug,” Kloughn said, struggling to stand. “I’m lucky I’m alive.”

Abruzzi considered us all for a moment. “This is my property,” he said. “Don’t break in again. I don’t care if you’re friends of the family or lawyers, or murdering bitches. Got that?”

I pressed my lips tight together and said nothing.

Lula shifted her weight foot to foot. “Hunh,” she said.

And Kloughn vigorously nodded his head. “Yessir,” he said, “we understand. No problemo. We only came in this time on account of—”

Lula gave him a kick in the back of his calf.

“
Yow!
” Kloughn said, bending at the waist, grabbing his leg.

“Get out of this house,” Abruzzi said to me. “And don’t return.”

“I’ve been employed by Evelyn’s family to look after her interests. That includes stopping by here from time to time.”

“You’re not listening,” Abruzzi said. “I’m telling you to stay out. Stay out of this house and stay out of Evelyn’s affairs.”

Bells and whistles were going off in my head. Why did Abruzzi care about Evelyn and her house? He was her landlord. My understanding of his business was that this wasn’t even an important piece of real estate to him.

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll make your life very unpleasant. I know how to make women uncomfortable. Benito and I had that in common. We knew how to make women pay attention. Tell me,” Abruzzi said, “what were Benito’s last moments like? Was he in pain? Was he afraid? Did he know he was going to die?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “He was on the other side of the glass. I don’t know what he was feeling.” Aside from insane rage.

Abruzzi stared at me for a moment. “Fate is a funny thing, isn’t it? Here you are back in my life. And you’re, once again, on the wrong side. It will be interesting to see how this campaign unfolds.”

“Campaign?”

“I’m a student of military history. And, this is to some extent a war.” He made a small hand gesture. “Maybe not a war. More of a skirmish, I think. Whatever we call it, it’s a contest, of sorts. Because I’m feeling generous today, I’ll give you an option. You can walk away from Evelyn and this house, and I’ll let you go. You’ll have bought amnesty. If you continue to participate, I’ll consider you to be enemy troops. And the war game will begin.”

Oh boy. This guy is a total fruitcake. I held my hand up in a stop gesture. “I’m not playing war games. I’m just a friend of the family, checking on things for Evelyn. We’re going now. And I think you should do the same.” And I think you should take a pill. A
big
pill.

I ushered Lula and Kloughn past Abruzzi and Darrow and through the door. I hustled them into the car, and we took off.

“Holy crap,” Lula said. “What was that? I’m totally creeped out. Eddie Abruzzi has eyes like Ramirez. And Ramirez had no soul. I thought I put all that behind me, but I looked into those eyes just now and everything went black. It was like being with Ramirez all over again. I’m telling you, I’m freaked. I got the sweats. I’m hyperventilating is what I’m doing. I need a burger. No, wait a minute, I just had a burger. I need something else. I need . . . I need . . . I need to go shopping. I need shoes.”

Kloughn’s eyes brightened. “So Ramirez and Abruzzi are bad guys, right? And Ramirez is dead, right? What was he, a professional killer?”

“He was a professional boxer.”

“Holy cow.
That
Ramirez. I remember reading about him in the paper. Holy cow, you’re the one who killed Benito Ramirez.”

“I didn’t kill him,” I said. “He was on my fire escape, trying to break in, and someone else shot him.”

“Yeah, she almost never shoots anyone,” Lula said. “And I don’t care anyway. I’m getting out of here. I need mall air. I could breathe better if I had mall air.”

I took Kloughn back to the Laundromat and dropped Lula at the office. Lula roared off in her red Trans Am, and I went in to visit with Connie.

“You know that guy you picked up yesterday,” Connie said to me, “Martin Paulson? He’s back on the street. There was something wrong with his original arrest, and the case has been dismissed.”

“He should be locked up just for living.”

“Apparently, when he was released his first words as a freed man were some unflattering references to you.”