Seven Up - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,54

wasn't sure what lesbian chic looked like. Mostly I knew television lesbians.

"I'm not certain about the shoes," she said. "Shoes are always so difficult."

She was wearing delicate black patent sandals with a little heel. Her toes were painted bright red.

"I guess it depends if you want men's shoes or women's shoes," I said. "Are you a girl lesbian or a boy lesbian?"

"There are two kinds of lesbians?"

"I don't know. Didn't you research this?"

"No. I just assumed lesbians were unisex."

If she was having trouble being a lesbian with her clothes on, I couldn't imagine what was going to happen when she took the clothes off.

"I'm applying for a job at the mall," Valerie said. "And then I have a second job interview downtown. I was wondering if I could swap cars with you. I want to make a good appearance."

"What car are you driving now?"

"Uncle Sandor's '53 Buick."

"Muscle car," I said. "Very lesbian. Much better than my CR-V."

"I never thought of that."

I felt a little guilty because the truth is I didn't know if a '53 Buick would be favored by lesbians. It was just that I really didn't want to swap. I hate the '53 Buick.

I waved good-bye and wished her luck as she sashayed down the hall. Rex was out of his can and looking at me. Either he was thinking I was very clever, or else he was thinking I was a rotten sister. Hard to tell with hamsters. That's why they make such good pets.

I slung my black leather bag over my shoulder, grabbed my denim jacket, and locked up. Time to check back on Melvin Baylor. I felt a twinge of nervousness. Eddie DeChooch was worrisome. I didn't like the way he felt comfortable shooting at people on a moment's notice. And now that I was among the threatened I liked it even less.

I crept down the stairs and scurried through the lobby. I looked beyond the glass doors, into the lot. No DeChooch anywhere.

Mr. Morganstern stepped out of the elevator.

"Hello, cutie," Mr. Morganstern said. "Whoa. Looks like you ran into a doorknob."

"All part of the job," I said to Mr. Morganstern.

Mr. Morganstern was very old. Possibly two hundred.

"I saw your young friend leaving yesterday. He might be a little funny in the head, but he travels in style. You've got to like a man who travels in style," Mr. Morganstern said.

"What young friend?"

"The Mooner person. The one who wears the Superman suit and has long brown hair."

My heart skipped a beat. It never occurred to me that any of my neighbors would have information about Mooner. "When did you see him? What time?"

"It was early in the morning. The bakery down the street opens at six and I walked there and back, so I guess I saw your friend around seven o'clock. He came out of the door just as I was going in. He was with a lady and they both got into a big black limousine. I never rode in a limousine. It must be something."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"He said . . . dude."

"Did he look okay? Did he look worried?"

"Nope. He looked same as always. You know, like nobody's home."

"What did the woman look like?"

"Nice-looking woman. Short, sort of brown hair. Young."

"How young?"

"About sixty, maybe."

"I don't suppose the limo had anything written on it? Like the name of the limo company?"

"Not that I recall. It was just a big black limo."

I turned on my heel, went back upstairs, and started calling limo companies. It took me a half hour to go through all the listings in the phone book. Only two companies made pickups that early yesterday morning. Both pickups were Town Cars and they were both making airport runs. Neither was booked by or picked up a woman.

Dead end again.

I drove over to Melvin's apartment and knocked on his door.

Melvin answered with a bag of frozen corn on his head. "I'm dying," he said. "My head's exploding. My eyes are on fire."

He looked awful. Worse than yesterday and that was going some. "I'll be back later," I told him. "Don't do any more drinking, okay?"

Five minutes later I was at the office. "Hey," Lula said. "Look at this. Your eyes are sort of black and green today. That's a good sign."

"Has Joyce been in yet?"

"She came in about fifteen minutes ago," Connie said. "She was nuts, raving about shrimp chow mein."

"She was gonzo," Lula said. "Made no sense at all. Never seen her so mad. I don't suppose you