stomach. His sandy hair was thin, combed over the top of his balding dome, and slick with sweat.
I opened the door to him.
“Morty Beyers,” he said, extending his hand. “You must be Stephanie Plum.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in the hospital?”
“An exploded appendix only gets you a couple hours’ stay. I’m back to work. They tell me I’m good as new.”
He didn’t look good as new. He looked like he had met Vampira on the stairs. “Your stomach still hurt?”
“Only when I straighten up.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Vinnie said you had my FTAs. I thought now that I was feeling okay…”
“You want the paperwork back.”
“Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.”
“It wasn’t a complete bust. I brought two of them in.”
He nodded. “Didn’t have any luck with Morelli?”
“None at all.”
“I know this sounds weird, but I could’ve sworn I saw his car in your parking lot.”
“I stole it. I thought maybe I could flush him out by making him come after his car.”
“You stole it? No shit? Jesus, that’s great.” He was leaning against the wall with his hand pressed to his groin.
“You want to sit down for a minute? You want some water?”
“Nah, I’m fine. I gotta get to work. I just wanted the pictures and stuff.”
I ran to the kitchen, gathered up the files, and rushed back to the door. “This is it.”
“Great.” He tucked the folders under an arm. “So are you gonna keep the car a while?”
“I’m not sure.”
“If you spotted Morelli walking down the street, would you bring him in?”
“Yeah.”
He smiled. “If I was you, I’d do the same thing. I wouldn’t pack it in just because my week was up. Just between you and me, Vinnie would pay out to anyone brought Morelli back. Well, I’ll be on my way. Thanks.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“Yeah. I’m gonna use the elevator.”
I closed the door, slid the bolt home, and latched the security chain. When I turned around, Morelli was standing in the bedroom doorway. “Do you think he knew you were here?” I asked.
“If he knew I was here, he’d have his gun aimed at my forehead by now. Don’t underestimate Beyers. He’s not as stupid as he looks. And he’s not nearly as nice as he’d like you to believe. He was a cop. Got kicked off the force for demanding favors from prostitutes of both genders. We used to call him Morty the Mole because he’d bury his doodah in whatever hole was available.”
“I bet he and Vinnie get along just great.”
I went to the window and stared down at the parking lot. Beyers was examining Morelli’s car, peering into the windows. He tried the door handle and the trunk latch. He wrote something on the outside of a folder. He straightened slightly and looked around the lot. His attention caught on the van. He slowly walked over and pressed his nose against the windows in an attempt to see the interior; then he laboriously climbed on the front bumper and tried to see through the windshield. He stepped back and stared at the antennae. He stood to the rear and copied the tag. He turned and looked up at my building, and I jumped back from the window.
Five minutes later, there was another knock on my door.
“I was wondering about that van in your lot,” Beyers said. “Have you noticed it?”
“The blue one with the antennae?”
“Yeah. Do you know the owner?”
“No, but it’s been here for a while.”
I closed and locked the door and watched Beyers through the peephole. He stood thinking for a moment, and then he knocked on Mr. Wolesky’s door. He showed Morelli’s picture and asked a few questions. He thanked Mr. Wolesky, gave him his card, and backed away.
I returned to the window, but Beyers didn’t appear in the lot. “He’s going door-to-door,” I said.
We continued to watch from the window, and eventually Beyers limped to his car. He drove a late-model dark blue Ford Escort equipped with a car phone. He left the lot and turned toward St. James.
Morelli was in the kitchen with his head in my refrigerator. “Beyers is going to be a real pain in the ass. He’s going to check on the van plates and put it together.”
“What’s this going to do for you?”
“It’s going to knock me out of Trenton until I get a different vehicle.” He took a carton of orange juice and a loaf
