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

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 suredoors 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 Lulaand 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 got busted, so I had to buy a new one. Those flat screens don’t come cheap, you know.And now that I’m home all the time, being I don’t have a job, I gotta have a decent television to watch.”
    “I see what you’re saying.”
    “Anyways I figure’d I’d rob a store. This way I get a bottle of wine and some money to tide me over for the week.”
    “Yes, but we know who you are now,” I said to him.
    “Yeah,” he said. “That’s a bummer. ’Course I’m already wanted for armed robbery, so maybe it’s no big deal.”
    “What kind of wine do you like?” Lula asked him.
    “Red. I already stole a steak from Shop and Bag. I’m gonna have a real nice dinner tonight.” He looked at the bottle of wine in Lula’s hand. “That looks good. Hand it over.”
    “No way,” Lula said. “I got the last bottle of this wine. Go find your own damn wine.”
    Merlin pointed the gun at her. “Give me the wine, or I’ll shoot you.”
    Lula narrowed her eyes and stomped on his bandaged foot with one of her Louboutins.
    “Yow!”
Merlin said, doubling over.
“Fuck!”
    Lula cracked him on the head with her bottle of wine, and Merlin went down like a sack of sand.
    “This is my day,” Lula said. “Not only did I find this fine bottle of wine, but I just foiled a robbery.”
    Merlin was out cold. Probably a kindness considering the way his foot must be feeling. I kicked his gun away and cuffed him. Lula paid for her wine, and the clerk helped us dragMerlin out to my car. We got a guy on the street to give us a hand, and we managed to shove Merlin into my backseat.
    “I told you it was gonna be like this,” Lula said.