Smokin' Seventeen: A Stephanie Plum Novel (Stephanie Plum Novels)

train. And it was a pity ’cause I was all set with my boa.”
    I looked out the bus window and saw that the crime scene tape was still up and two men in khakis and CSI windbreakers were in the middle of the lot. “What’s going on out there?” I asked Connie.
    “I don’t know. They’ve marked off grids and they’re poking around. I guess they want to make sure there aren’t any more bodies. Or maybe they’re collecting evidence. Morelli was here when I came to work and then he left.”
    “Did he look happy?” I asked.
    “Not especially. He had his work face on. He was with Terry Gilman. They spent a couple minutes talking to the CSI guys, and then they left.”
    I felt like all the air got squeezed out of my lungs. Terry Gilman was blond and beautiful and from time to time I’ve suspected Morelli of straying in her direction. Terry Gilman also had mob connections, although just exactly how she was currently connected wasn’t clear.
    “I think Gilman was related to Lou Dugan,” Connie said. “Second cousin or something. And I’m pretty sure she worked for him at one time.”
    Lula had her nose pressed against the window. “I tell you, if one of those CSI guys turns up another body I’m going home, and I’m not coming back.”
    “There isn’t anything for you to file here anyway,” Connie said. “We don’t have any file cabinets, and we don’t have a lot of case files. Business is in the toilet.”
    “You’re still paying me, aren’t you? Because I got financial obligations. I got a handbag on layaway that I’m makin’ payments on.”
    Vinnie called and Connie put him on speakerphone.
    “I’m at the courthouse and I need someone to come pick up a package,” Vinnie said.
    “What kind of package?”
    “A
big
package. It won’t fit in my car. I need Mooner to drive the bus here.”
    “Mooner’s at an all-day
Lord of the Rings
movie festival.”
    “Then get someone else to drive the damn bus.”
    “Who?” Connie asked him.
    “Anyone! How hard can it be if Mooner can do it? Just get the bus down here. I haven’t got all day to waste standing around in front of the courthouse.”
    “Hell, I’ll drive the bus,” Lula said. “I always wanted to drive a bus.”
    I always wanted to fly, but that doesn’t mean I can do it without wings. “Don’t you have to take lessons and get a special license to drive a bus?”
    Lula was on her feet, moving to the driver’s seat. “To my way of thinking this here’s a recreational vehicle and you don’t need nothing special to drive it.” She got behind the wheel and looked around. “Let’s see what we got. Gas pedal. Brake. Gear shifter doohickey. And the key’s in the ignition. This is gonna be a piece of cake.”
    “Is this bus insured?” I asked Connie.
    Connie was busy ramming her laptop and a bunch of files into her tote bag. “I’m moving to the coffee shop next to the hospital. They’ve got free WiFi, it smells better, it’s not always midnight, and it doesn’t move.”
    Lula cranked the engine over. “Everybody strapped in?”
    Connie pushed past me to the door. “Do
not
go over ten miles an hour,” she said to Lula. “Do
not
hit anything. Do not call me if you
do
hit something.”
    I grabbed my purse and followed after Connie.
    “Hey,” Lula said to me. “Where are you going? We’re supposed to be partners. What about all those times I got yourback. And now here I am on a big adventure drivin’ a bus, and how could you be thinkin’ about not sharing this with me? Where’s the sharing? This could be a bonding experience.”
    “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
    “Of course it’s a good idea. Just sit your skinny white hiney down. This is gonna be fun. I’m gonna be a good bus driver. I might even decide to take up bus driving professionally.”
    Lula put the bus in gear, stepped on the gas, and backed into the state CSI truck.
    “Did you hear something funny just then?” she asked.
    “Yeah, I heard the sound of you backing into the crime scene van.”
    “It was just a tap. I’ll ease forward a little.”
    She changed gears and pulled away from the curb. “This thing don’t got a lot of get-up.”
    The CSI guys were staring at us, mouths open, eyes wide. I looked in the side mirror and saw we were towing the van.
    “I just gotta give it some juice,” Lula said.
    She stomped on the gas, and the bus broke loose and jumped forward, leaving the van’s bumper in the middle of the