Fearless Fourteen - Janet Evanovich [56]
“Take it, dude,” Mooner said to Zook. “It’s a cool gig.”
“Me, too?” Gary asked.
“Yeah, you, too,” Morelli said.
“Should we be, like, packing heat, or something?” Mooner wanted to know.
“No!” Morelli said. “If someone comes to the house, you politely tell them to go away. If they won’t go away, you call me.”
“Gotcha,” Mooner said.
“Looks like we’re done in the basement,” I said. “Everyone upstairs for lunch.”
Gary had been quietly standing in his corner. “I think it might be here,” he said.
Everyone looked at him.
“I feel like I have a vision coming, but it’s still in the back of my head. Sometimes it’s like that. It’s like brain constipation.”
“Oh man, I hate when I get that,” Mooner said.
“Maybe lunch will help,” I said to Gary.
Gary didn’t budge from the corner. “I think I should stay here.”
I made sandwiches for Zook, Mooner, Morelli, Bob, and me, and I brought Gary’s sandwich down to the basement.
“How’s it going?” I said to him. “Anything coming through?”
“I had sort of a tingle before, but it went away.”
“Okeydokey. Shout out if you need anything.”
Lula left, and Mooner and Zook checked in on Minionfire.
“I’m going to get my cousin Mooch over here to finish the basement,” Morelli said. “Part of it’s torn up. I might as well finish the job.”
Mooch owned a small construction company. He specialized in renovation, and fitting people into cement overcoats. His Yellow Pages ad read MOOCH MORELLI, DEMO AND DISPOSAL.
“Can you trust Mooch to let you know if he finds the money?” I asked Morelli.
“I’ll keep my eye on him.”
“What about Dom?”
“You can watch for Dom,” Morelli said. “Stake out Jelly’s apartment and call me if Dom shows up.”
FOURTEEN
FOUR HOURS LATER, I was still watching for Dom. My ass was asleep, and I had to tinkle. I got Jelly’s phone number from Connie and tried calling him. No one answered, so I called Morelli.
“What’s new?” I said to Morelli.
“Mooch and his guy Tiny have gone through two six-packs and have destroyed almost my entire basement. I think they only have maybe four or five more bottles of work left to do.”
“What did they find?”
“Dirt.”
“Are they going to dig up the dirt?”
“No. They’re wasted. Mooch is lucky he hasn’t jackhammered his foot.”
“I need a bathroom break.”
“No activity?”
“None. It looks to me like no one’s even in the bottom half of the house.”
“I’d take your place, but I’m afraid to leave Mooch alone with the kids.”
“Afraid he’ll plant them in the cellar?”
“No. I’m afraid he’ll share my remaining beer with them.”
So I had a dilemma. I had to tinkle. Bad. And I had no one to relieve me. I could drive around and look for a gas station or convenience store with a bathroom, but that could take time. Or I could run across the street and use Jelly’s bathroom. If I used Jelly’s bathroom, I ran the risk of getting trapped again. Not to mention contracting a disease.
I did a mental coin toss, and Jelly’s bathroom won. I pulled the key out of the ignition, shoved it into my pocket, and crossed the street. I let myself into the apartment, went straight to the bathroom, and lined the seat with toilet paper. Even with the toilet paper, I tried to be careful not to touch anything. This wasn’t a bathroom that inspired confidence, and better safe than sorry. I was about to squat when I heard a crash and a sizzle, and an explosion rocked the building. I yanked my pants up and ran out of the bathroom. I got to the hall and saw a wall of flames race around Jelly’s living room, creating an instant inferno. No way to get to the stairs. I ran back to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. I shoved the window up and crawled out. I hung by my hands, took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and let go. My feet hit first and then I was flat on my back with the wind knocked out of me.
I dragged myself to my feet and took a couple deep breaths. This wasn’t good. I didn’t want to be found here. I limped through the house’s little backyard and half climbed, half fell over the split-rail wood fence, into his neighbor’s yard. I crept between houses and came out on the street