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

here’s V.I.P. parking. And that open door’s practically an invitation for us to go in.”
    Male voices rumbled out from the warehouse interior.
    “Going in would be a bad idea,” I said to Lula. “There are men with guns and killer birds in there.”
    Lula tiptoed up to the door. “We don’t know that for sure. People could be blowing this cockfighting thing way out of proportion.” She peeked inside and sucked in air. “It’s the little red hen! Except I guess it’s a rooster. And there’s a big shiny black rooster. And a bunch of cages I can’t see into.”
    “Great. That’s exactly what I need to know. I’m calling this in.”
    I stepped away from the warehouse, pressed myself against the side of a building where shadows were deep, and dialed police dispatch. I disconnected and realized Lula was nowhere to be seen.
    I heard a scream from inside the building. It was followed by screeching and crowing, and a lot of shouting. And Lula burst out the door. Two roosters half ran, half flew past me and disappeared into the night. A third bird was attached to Lula.
    “Vampire rooster!” Lula yelled.
    She was batting at the bird, and the bird was squawking and flapping his wings and pecking at Lula. She managed to knock the bird off her head, and the bird turned and attacked the men coming out the door.
    There was a lot of cussing and yelling and more squawking, and Lula and I took off at a dead run. We ran down the alley and hooked a left at the side street. We stopped and bent to catch our breath. I didn’t hear footsteps. No one seemed to be running after us. There was a lot of angry shouting back by the warehouse, and someone flicked a flashlight beam across the alley.
    Lula straightened up and looked around. “Didn’t we park the car here?”
    The junker SUV was gone. This car stealing stuff was getting old.
    “It’s a wonder anyone is ever able to get home in this neighborhood,” Lula said. “You leave your car for two minutes and the car fairy comes and takes it.”
    Lula’s giant spider hairdo had been rearranged by the rooster and was now more rat’s nest. She was wearing a black leather bustier, a denim skirt that barely covered her ass, and over-the-knee black leather boots with four-inch spike heels. I imagined the outfit came from her S&M ho collection.
    We were standing pretty much on the corner of Stark and Sidney. A red tricked-out Grand Cherokee pulled up to us, the passenger window slid down, and a guy leaned out at us.
    “Hey bitch,” he said. “What’s up?”
    “Go away,” Lula said. “We’re busy here.”
    “You don’t look busy. You look like you’re waitin’ to do me.”
    “My cousin Ernie isn’t gonna like this,” Lula said to me. “How’s he gonna get to work tomorrow?”
    The Cherokee doors opened and two scrawny guys in too big clothes got out and strutted over to Lula.
    “You look like a workin’ bitch,” the one guy said. “How come you don’t wanna work me?”
    “I’m retired,” Lula said. “Take a hike.”
    “I’ll hike right up your fat lady ass,” the guy said.
    Lula turned on him, eyes narrowed. “Did you call me fat? ’Cause you don’t want to do that. You don’t want to mess with me. I just lost Ernie’s car. And I just had root canal, and my meds are wearin’ off, and I’m feelin’ mean as a snake. I’m a woman on the edge right now, you punk ass, little pencil dick.”
    “I ain’t no pencil dick. You want to see my dick?”
    He unzipped his big baggy pants, and Lula tagged both of them with her stun gun.
    “Hunh,” Lula said. She looked down at the two guys sprawled on the sidewalk, and then she looked over at their SUV. “I think we just got a car.”
    “No way! That’s grand theft auto.”
    “You want to stay here and wait for a bus?”
    Good point.
    We scrambled into the Cherokee with Lula behind the wheel, and we took off. Two police cars passed us going in theopposite direction. Lights flashing. No siren. Most likely en route to the cockfight.
    “What happened in the warehouse?” I asked Lula.
    “There wasn’t anybody in the back room, so I went in to look at the chickens, and right off one of them was acting real friendly. He was looking at me with his head sort of tilted, and he was making clucking sounds like the Little Red Hen would make. And I figured he wanted me to pet him, so I opened the door to his cage just a little to get my hand in, and next thing he busted out and attacked me. It was Ziggy