Fearless Fourteen - Janet Evanovich [82]
“Where did you get the clothes?” I asked Mooner.
“Army surplus. We got some for the Zookster, too.”
“We changed the patches,” Gary said. “We made them say ‘Homegrown Security.’”
I got everyone settled in the living room with chips and pretzels and sodas. I phoned for pizza. I asked about Zook’s homework.
How bizarre was this? It was like running a day-care facility. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? I mean, who am I? I was raised to have traditional values, but I screwed up on my first marriage big-time, I took an odd job, and now I love two men. One is definite husband-and-father material. The other . . . I don’t know what to think of the other. And now here I was, doing my “mother cat” impersonation.
The doorbell rang and I went to answer it. I opened the door and didn’t bother to hold back the grimace. It was Brenda and her film crew.
“How about it?” she said. “Have you thought of anything?”
“No.”
“Make something up. You’ve got an imagination, right? This is the news. It doesn’t have to be real.”
“I thought that was the whole purpose of the news . . . to report real stuff.”
“Oh puhleeze. You don’t actually believe that crap. You think we could get ratings with real stuff? The news people make up entire wars. Listen, all you have to do is find something sexy to say about the money. Like, ‘Tall, dark and handsome Morelli was taking a nap, and he woke up and thought he heard a noise in the yard, so he rushed out naked and tackled some guy who was digging with a shovel, and Morelli saw a couple hundred-dollar bills sticking out of the ground.’” Brenda smiled. “See? It’s easy.”
“I’d like to help you, but I don’t think I could pull that off.”
“Of course, you can. Look at me. I can do it, and I’m not that good. I’m just motivated. I’ve got a three-million-dollar house in Brentwood with a mortgage big enough to choke a horse.” She looked at the guys on the couch. “Is that Gary?”
Gary waved at her. “I’m lurking.”
“No shit,” she said. “What’s with the uniform? Did you join the Army?”
“Homegrown Security,” Gary said. “I’m a gunnery officer.”
“Great,” Brenda said. “Perfect. A gunnery officer. That makes me feel real safe.”
“Yeah, but you still have to watch out for the pizza,” Gary said.
Brenda’s face brightened. “Maybe I could do a feature on stalkers. We could film you stalking me,” she said to Gary.
“I appreciate the offer, but no, thanks,” Gary said. “I haven’t got time to stalk right now. I promised the guys I’d lurk, and I’m on standby with Homegrown.”
Brenda narrowed her eyes at Mooner. “You stole my stalker.”
“No way, the Mooner doesn’t steal. He, like, borrows sometimes, but he’s got a code. He’s protecting his oneness.”
“Oneness, my ass,” Brenda said. “I could own you like a cheap suit.”
“Whoa,” Mooner said. “Have you been talking to the wood elves?”
The soundman was standing behind Brenda. “If we don’t get film to the studio soon, we’ll miss our spot.”
“I’m not missing my spot,” Brenda said, turning from me and storming off the porch.
I closed the door and peeked out the living room window at her. She was standing over Bob’s poo while the cameraman zoomed in for a closer look.
“And here we have a suspicious substance on Joe Morelli’s front lawn,” Brenda said into her mic. “It would appear that the dog in this household has been fed a thong. Clearly a case for investigation by . . .” She looked over at the soundman. “Who investigates this shit?”
TWENTY
LULA WAS ON my cell phone. “I’m two minutes away,” she said. “Be out front. I’m in a consultation for my wedding gown, and I need an opinion. You gotta go back to the bride store with me.”
“Okay, but I can’t stay away too long. I don’t like leaving Zook on his own.”
“Don’t he have Homegrown Security with him?”
“Yeah, that’s part of the problem.”
I grabbed my purse, told everyone I’d be back soon and I was on my cell if an emergency arose, and I ran out of the house. The Firebird careened around the corner and slid to