Fearless Fourteen - Janet Evanovich [88]
I paced in the living room, watching for the tech to come get the camera. To pass the time, I called Alma Rizzi’s cell phone. And Dom picked up.
“What?” he said.
“Dom?”
“Who’s this?”
“It’s Stephanie. Don’t hang up! I have to talk to you about Loretta.”
“What about her?”
“Your partner has amputated two of her toes and sent them here. If I don’t give him the garage location by noon, he’s going to cut her hand off.”
I could hear Dom suck in some breath. “Jesus,” he said.
“Morelli isn’t involved in this,” I told Dom. “It’s just me negotiating with your partner, and he’s desperate. He wants the money.”
“I don’t even care about the money anymore,” Dom said. “I just want this over. And I want to be the one to talk to him. I want to hear his voice. I want to make sure he isn’t going to hurt Loretta anymore.”
I didn’t trust Dom to keep it together. He wasn’t exactly smart, and he wasn’t emotionally stable.
“We can call him together,” I said. “I can put him on speakerphone, so you can listen, but please let me do the talking. I don’t want this screwed up.”
“Yeah. You’re right. I’d probably screw it up. I want to kill the bastard. I want to rip his eyes out. I want to cut his balls off and shove them down his throat.”
“Probably you should do the anger management course that was offered to you,” I said to Dom.
“Fuck that. That shit is for pussies. Give me ten minutes. I gotta get a car.”
I disconnected Dom, and saw a crime scene van park in front of the Gearys’ house. The tech off-loaded a folding ladder, set it against the house, and climbed to the roof.
“You guys stay here,” I told Mooner and Gary. “I want to talk to the tech.”
I waited on the sidewalk while the tech unbolted the camera and put it in a large evidence bag. He climbed down and walked the camera to the van.
I had his age at late thirties to early forties. He was average height and build. He had brown hair cut short, ears that would lift him off the ground if they caught enough wind, and his eyes were hidden behind Oakleys. He was wearing a wrinkled short-sleeved, collared knit shirt and khakis that were bagged out and creased at the crotch. I was guessing he had no wife, and his mother was either dead or lived out of state.
“What happens to the camera now?” I asked him.
“We’ll take it to the shop and have a look at it.”
I felt a flash of heat pass through my entire body and my heart jumped in my chest. Major adrenaline rush. It was the voice. I looked down at his shoes. Jackpot.
I was afraid to talk. I didn’t trust my voice. I smiled and nodded. “Okay, then,” I managed to say.
I backed away and walked stiff-legged across the street. I slipped into Morelli’s house and closed and locked the door. I tried to call Morelli on my cell, but my hand was shaking so bad I couldn’t get the numbers right. I held my breath and tried again.
“Morelli here,” he said.
“It’s the crime lab tech,” I told him. “He’s across the street. He just took the camera down, and I recognized his voice and the shoes. He’s the fourth partner.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” Mostly.
“I’m on my way. Where are you?”
“In your house.”
“Stay there. Lock the doors. You know where I keep my extra gun?”
“Yes.”
“Get it.”
“What’s going on?” Mooner wanted to know.
“I think the crime lab tech might be Dom’s fourth partner. Stay in the house. Morelli is on his way home.”
I ran upstairs, got Morelli’s gun, and returned to the living room. Mooner was standing guard at a window with his potato bazooka. Gary was behind him with a basket of potatoes.
“We’re ready to defend the house,” Mooner said.
“Okay,” I said, “but don’t fire anything off unless I tell you to.”
Mooner and Gary saluted.
I shoved Morelli’s gun into the waistband of my jeans at the small of my back, and I stood beside Mooner and looked out the window. The gun was cold and hard and uncomfortable. I popped the snap on my jeans, but it didn’t help a lot. I removed the gun and shoved it under a couch cushion for safekeeping. It