Takedown Twenty(10)

“Move out of the way,” I said to Moe. “We’re looking for Sunny, and I think he’s in that house.”

“It happens he isn’t in that house,” Moe said. “And you’re not looking there anyway.” He pulled a gun and shot two rounds into my back door. “I’d hate to think that could be your head.”

“You got a lot of nerve doing that to her car,” Lula said. “You’re gonna hear from her insurance company.”

Moe stepped back and looked at the Taurus. “You got insurance on this?”

I blew out a sigh. “No.”

“How about life insurance?” he asked me. “You got any of that?”

“No.”

“Then you should be extra careful, girlie.”

I put the car in gear and drove away.

“He got a attitude issue,” Lula said. “If you ask me, he could use a personality adjustment.”

“Do you think Sunny is in that house?”

“We could go around back and do some investigating.”

I drove around the block and came back down the alley that ran behind the Sixteenth Street buildings. We counted off houses and stopped three from the end. I moved up a house and pulled in behind an Econoline van.

“We gonna be peeping Toms?” Lula asked.

“Yes.”

A silver Toyota sedan drove past us and parked behind the house. A woman got out and took two brown grocery bags from the backseat. She was in her forties, clearly ate a lot of pasta, and needed a new hairdresser. The back door opened, and Moe came out and took the grocery bags. They both went into the house and closed the door.

“That’s sweet,” Lula said. “He came out to help with the bags. I bet that’s Mrs. Moe.”

So probably we’d found Moe’s house, and chances weren’t good that Sunny was holed up there.

“Let’s check out Rita Raguzzi,” I said to Lula.

I backtracked on Olden and headed for Hamilton Township. Rita Raguzzi lived in a residential neighborhood of single-family houses that had been developed in the seventies. Yards were large and lawns were green. Homes were comfortable but not luxurious. Raguzzi’s house was a split-level with an attached garage. Convenient for sneaking a man in and out when he was someone else’s husband. There was a black Mercedes in the driveway. It was the economy model, if there is such a thing.

“Looks to me like someone’s home,” Lula said. “Maybe Uncle Sunny’s here, walking around in his underwear.”

I thought that was doubtful but not impossible.

“You want me to sneak around and snoop while you ring the doorbell?” Lula asked.

“Sure.”

I rang the doorbell, and Lula crept around the side of the house, walking tiptoed so her four-inch spike-heel Manolo knockoffs wouldn’t sink into the grass.

A woman opened the door and looked out at me. “What?”

She was in her late forties to early fifties. Her complexion was Mediterranean and her hair was platinum, cut short with one side tucked behind her ear and the other side dramatically sweeping across her forehead and partially obscuring her eye. She was wearing red patent-leather stiletto heels and a little red dress that showed a lot of cleavage and a lot of leg, and had a lot of spandex in it.

“Rita Raguzzi?” I asked.

“Yeah, and unless you want to buy or sell a house I haven’t got time. I’m late for a showing.”

I gave her my card. “I’m looking for Sunny.”

“Stephanie Plum. I thought I recognized you. Aren’t you engaged to Joe Morelli?”

“Not exactly. Are you engaged to Sunny?”

“Not exactly.”

“So we have something in common.”

She did a fast scan of my jeans and sneakers and crappy car at the curb. “The only thing we have in common is an interest in Salvatore Sunucchi. And our interests aren’t compatible. You want to lock him up, and I want to lock him down.”

“Lock him down?”

“Marriage, stupid.” Raguzzi narrowed her eyes at me. “I’ve got a ten-year investment in this goat, and nothing is going to stand between me and his offshore bank accounts and Trenton real estate. I’m a fraction of an inch away from a ring on my finger.”

“Won’t he want a pre-nup?”

“You get a pre-nup in case of divorce. I’m not planning on a divorce. I’m planning on being a widow.”

“You mean because he’s older than you?”

“I mean because he has a bad heart. I figure all I have to do is load him up with Viagra and invite a friend over for a threesome.”

“I didn’t know he had a bad heart.”

“Yeah, he could go at any minute, so back off, because hanging out while Sunny sits in jail and maybe croaks isn’t going to work for me.”