Dirty Thirty (Stephanie Plum, #30)(64)

“He’s drooling,” Nutsy said.

“They do that sometimes after they’ve been zapped,” I told him. “It’s no big deal.”

Morelli called and I put in an earbud so he wouldn’t broadcast to everyone in the SUV.

“I miss you,” he said. “This is turning out to be longer than I expected. How’s Bob?”

“Bob is great,” I said.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. My nose is feeling better, and the swelling and bruising is almost gone from my eyes. I kidnapped a guy just now and I’m taking him to my apartment. Then I’m heading to Rangeman for the night.”

There was a moment of silence. “Do you want to have phone sex?” he asked.

“It would be awkward,” I said. “I’m in Ranger’s car with Lula, Bob, Nutsy, and the guy I kidnapped.”

“Okay, well maybe later.”

I hung up and Lula looked over at me. “I didn’t hear it all, but I’m thinking he didn’t believe a word you said.”

“Not a word,” I said.

“I’m here in the middle of it, and I don’t believe it,” Lula said.

I checked Marcus out in my rearview mirror. He was looking much more alert.

“I didn’t do it,” Marcus said.

“What didn’t you do?” I asked him.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said. “Whatever you think I did… I didn’t do it.”

“We know what you did,” I told him. “And we don’t care.”

He looked at Nutsy. “I know you. You’re the doorman at Plover’s.”

“Yeah,” Nutsy said. “And you handed the bag of jewelry off to me after Plover shot your friend.”

“That was you? It was dark and I was freaked out. After Stump got shot it was all a blur. I just wanted to get out of there. I figured Plover was going to shoot me too.” He looked down at his hands. “Why am I in handcuffs? Are you taking me to Plover?”

“No,” I said. “We aren’t working for Plover. We’re trying to put a bunch of pieces together about the robbery.”

“The jewelry is all fake,” Marcus said.

“I was in the alley when you and Stump were talking to Plover,” Nutsy said. “It sounded like you were trying to blackmail him.”

“That was Stump’s idea. It turned out we couldn’t get much money for the jewelry, but Stump thought Plover would pay to get it back. He figured Plover was passing the junk off as the real thing. Like scamming customers and then his insurance company.”

“How did you get the bag of jewelry?” I asked Marcus.

“We saw the guy who robbed the store run out and drop the bag. We were standing right there. And there was all this commotion with police and people on the street, and no one was paying any attention to the bag. So, we took it. We just walked away with it. We didn’t know it was filled with jewelry. We would have been happy if it was filled with halfway-decent garbage.”

“I want to know about Stump,” I said to Marcus. “What was he wearing when he was shot?”

“Same thing he always wore. Pants and a shirt and a hooded sweatshirt.”

“Did he have a belt?”

“No.”

“A watch?”

“No.”

“A ring?”

“No.”

“A phone?”

“No.”

“Any jewelry?”

“Yeah,” Marcus said. “He always wore a cross that he got in Mexico years ago. It was big with stuff engraved on it.”

“Did he have anything else on him that was metal?”

“He always carried a knife and fork and spoon. And he had a Swiss Army knife. Why do you want to know? Did someone find him? Is he okay?”

“He hasn’t been found, but we’re looking,” I said.

“This is weird,” Marcus said. “Who are you? Are you cops?”

“More or less,” Lula said.

“Not me,” Nutsy said. “I’m an unemployed doorman.”

I was in my parking lot, and I had no further use for Marcus. He’d told me everything I needed to know. He’d backed up Nutsy’s story, and he’d given me the information I wanted for Diggery. Eventually, the police would want a statement from him, but it seemed premature to turn him over to the police at this instant. Especially since he was wearing my handcuffs for no legitimate reason.

“Where are we?” Marcus asked.

“We’re in the parking lot to my apartment building,” I said. “Would you like to come upstairs and have something to eat? You didn’t get a chance to finish your sandwich.”

Marcus looked out at the building and looked down at his cuffs. “I’d rather just be free to go.”

“Of course,” I said.

Lula unlocked the cuffs.

“How are you going to get back to the church? It’ll take you all night if you walk.”

“I’ll find a way,” he said.

“I can drive you back,” I said.

He had the car door halfway open. “No! I mean, thanks, but I don’t need a ride.”