Wicked Appetite - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,49
little guy no one ever talked to. Richie was on his cell phone. Mensher, Milton, and Gorp shuffled back and forth on the sidewalk, looking at the house through binoculars, taking readings with their ghost-o-meters. The skinny little guy hauled a camp chair out of the minivan, set it up on the sidewalk, and settled in with his computer.
Diesel and I were snug in the Cayenne, in a dark spot on the street between gas lamps and under the shade of an oak tree. After ten minutes of watching the Spook Patrol, Diesel slid an arm around me and nuzzled my neck.
“What are you doing?” I asked him.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Yes! Stop it.”
“The girls never said that when I was in high school.”
“This isn’t high school. We’re supposed to be stopping a maiming. And besides, the monkey is watching.”
Diesel stared out the window. “There’s no maiming going on.” He flicked a glance at the backseat. “And the monkey is sleeping. So what’s the problem?”
I sucked in some air. “You make me nervous.”
“I noticed.”
“I go into a panic when you get close.”
“Does that happen with all men or am I special?”
“It’s you.”
Diesel smiled, his teeth white against his usual two-day beard. “I like it.”
“It’s uncomfortable!”
“I could make you even more uncomfortable,” Diesel said, “but you’re off-limits to me. Unmentionables can’t join with other Unmentionables. There are consequences.” He ran his finger along the nape of my neck. “That’s not to say we can’t fool around.”
My heart jumped to my throat at his touch. “What sort of consequences?”
“One of us would lose all Unmentionable power,” Diesel said.
“Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Isn’t this typical. Every time I meet a great guy who actually has two eyebrows, he’s either gay or married. And now I can add Unmentionable to the list of unavailable men.
“No problem,” I said. “Just because you throw me into a panic doesn’t mean I would fling myself into your arms at the first opportunity. I’m perfectly in control of the situation.”
“Lizzy, you have no idea. My Unmentionable skills aren’t limited to opening locked doors.”
“Jeez Louse.”
“Yeah,” Diesel said. “I could make us fit together like a Chinese puzzle. Unfortunately, we have a job to do that requires both of us keep our skills.” A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “And it would be a shame if you were the loser and you started making lousy cupcakes.”
A light flashed on over Wulf’s front door, and we both turned our attention to the house. Mel and Gorp were standing on the small cement porch, instruments in hand.
“Guess they got tired of waiting,” Diesel said. “Looks like showtime.”
The door opened and Wulf appeared. He was in his usual black. Black shirt, black slacks. He looked at Mensher, and then his eyes moved left and locked onto Diesel’s Cayenne.
“Uh-oh,” I said. “Can he see us?”
“Yes.”
“So he knows we set him up.”
“Yes.”
Mensher said something to Wulf, and Wulf didn’t respond. Wulf looked like he was sending death rays in our direction. Mensher pointed to the ghost-o-meter in Gorp’s hand, but Wulf paid no attention. Mensher took a step back, raised his camera, there was a flash when Mensher snapped a picture, and Wulf snatched Mensher by the neck with one hand and lifted him off the ground. Wulf had reached out so fast, it was like the flick of a lizard tongue snagging a bug from a tree limb.
“Yow!” I said, jumping in my seat, leaning forward. “Do something. He’s going to kill him.”
Diesel stayed relaxed behind the wheel, watching Wulf with an expression that was somewhere between mildly annoyed and mildly amused.
“He won’t kill him in front of me,” Diesel said. “Even if I wasn’t here, I doubt he’d kill him. Wulf has a code of ethics.”
Wulf released Mensher, and Mensher fell back on his ass with his hands to this throat. I was guessing Mensher would wake up tomorrow with a unique burn scar on his neck. Wulf swept past Mensher and Gorp, down the short sidewalk to the van. He walked behind the van, momentarily disappearing from sight. He circled the van, stepped back, and gestured toward it. A circle of fire raced around the van and the van exploded. Tires flew into space, a black cloud rose to the sky, and the van turned into a fireball.
Carl popped up in the backseat and looked out the window. “Eeep!”
“No big deal,” Diesel said to Carl. “Just a lot of flash.”
“Effective flash,” I said to Diesel. “It’s going to get rid of Mensher.”
“For