Smokin Seventeen - Janet Evanovich [43]
“She has a Lawrenceville address,” I said to Connie. “Is she still there?”
“Yes. I spoke to her this morning. She said she forgot the court date, and she’d stop around to sign new papers when her schedule opened up. I interpreted that to mean never.”
“Where’s the husband?”
“He’s at some fancy rehab facility in Princeton.”
“Let’s roll,” I said to Lula.
“Only if you promise we’ll be back here by six. I don’t want to miss the bacon muffins.”
• • •
The Bugles lived in a large brick colonial on a sizable landscaped lot, in a neighborhood filled with expensive homes. A black Lexus was parked in the driveway.
“Looks like she’s home,” Lula said. “And good news. She’s not in her car.”
I rang the bell. A blond woman opened the door and looked out at us.
“Regina Bugle?” I asked.
“Yes. What’s it to you?”
“Rent money,” Lula said. And she zapped her with her stun gun.
Regina crumpled into a heap on the floor, eyes open, fingers twitching.
“Jeez,” I said to Lula, “you ever hear of unnecessary force?”
“Yeah, but I barely used any force. I just touched her with the prongs.”
I pulled cuffs out of my back pocket and clapped them onto Regina. “Watch her while I check the house,” I said to Lula. “Do not zap her again.”
I walked through the downstairs checking to make sure doors were locked and appliances were off. I returned to Lula, and we got Regina to her feet. Her knees were wobbly, and her feet weren’t connected to her brain, so we pretty much dragged her to my Escort.
“This is gonna change our luck,” Lula said. “We were in a slump, but now we snagged someone, so we’ll get all the others. That’s the way it goes. When it rains it pours.”
Ten minutes from the police station Regina regained control of her mouth muscles.
“Don’t think you won’t pay for this,” she yelled from the backseat. “I ran my asshole husband down, and I’ll run you down, too. Both of you. The first one’s going to be the bitch who rang my doorbell.”
Lula looked over at me. “That’s you. You’re in trouble.”
“I’m going to find out where you live, and I’m coming after you,” Regina said. “I’m going to run you down, back over you, and then I’m going to get out and shock you with my stun gun until your hair catches fire.”
“You got a lot of anger,” Lula said to Regina. “You need to take up yoga or learn some of that tai chi shit I see old Chinese ladies doing in the park.”
We unloaded Regina, I got my body receipt from the docket lieutenant, and we headed back to my apartment.
“We should stop and get a bottle of wine to go with dinner,” Lula said. “There’s a wine store on the next block. I shopped there before, and they got a good selection of cheap wines.”
I parked in the small lot attached to the store, and Lula and I walked up and down the aisles until Lula found one she liked.
“I buy wine according to the bottle design,” Lula said. “After I get down the first glass it all tastes okay to me, so I figure you go for something classy to look at on the table.”
In this case it was a bottle of cabernet with a picture of a guy in a black cape on it. The guy was either Zorro or Dracula.
We were at the register about to pay when the door opened, a big guy rushed in and pulled out a Glock.
“This is a holdup,” he said. “Nobody move.”
He was about six feet tall, built chunky, was wearing a black ski mask, and he had a big bandage on his foot.
Lula leaned forward and squinted at him. “Merlin?”
“Yuh.”
“What the heck are you doing?”
“I’m robbing the store.”
“Good Lord, man, don’t you have anything better to do?”
“I already did that. Now I feel like having a bottle of wine.”
“So why don’t you buy one. They got wine here for three dollars.”
“I don’t have no money. I don’t have a job.”
“What about unemployment?”
“I already spent my unemployment check. I had to make a car payment. And my television