Free 14 Fearless Fourteen by Janet Evanovich Page B

“You gotta talk with authority. You gotta walk the walk and
use the language. You see what I'm saying?”
    “I guess so. I guess I could try that.” He stiffened his spine
and pointed his finger at me. “Listen, bitch...”
    My mother gave him a whack on the head with her wooden spoon.
“Behave yourself.”
    “Don't you have anything better to do?” I asked him. “Don't you
have a job?”
    “I'm currently between positions. I had a job, but then I had
the dream, and I had to give the job up so I could follow Brenda
around.”
    “Okay, now we're getting somewhere,” Lula said. “This is about a
dream?”
    “I told all this to the police and the judge and the
psychiatrist,” the stalker said.
    “Then you should have the story down good,” Lula said. “Tell it
to me.”
    “Three years ago, I was struck by lightning in the Wal-Mart
parking lot. All my hair fell out, and when it grew back, it was
this white color. And I was sort of psychic. Like sometimes people
glow and I can see their aura.”
    “Oh yeah? What's my aura?” Lula wanted to know.
    “I'm not seeing one right now.”
    “Hunh,” Lula said. “Some psychic. Can't even see my aura. I bet
I have a hell of a aura, too.”
    “Wait a minute. I think I'm starting to see one. It's...
red.”
    “That's a powerful color,” Lula said.
    “Anyway, sometimes I have these vision dreams that I'm pretty
sure mean something. And I started having them about Brenda. And I
got this feeling that I was supposed to be protecting her. You
know, like staying close by for when I got a vision of
danger.”
    “What's this vision of danger look like?” Lula asked
him.
    “It's... um, a pizza.”
    “Say what?”
    “It's a big pizza. It's symbolic. See, there's Brenda, and
there's this big pizza she's running away from.”
    “Maybe you're the pizza,” Lula said.
    “Or maybe the danger is that she'll get fat if she eats the big
pizza,” I said.
    He shook his head. “No, this is an evil pizza. It's none of
those things.”
    “And you told this to the psychiatrist and he still let you run
around loose?”
    Lula said.
    “I'm not considered dangerous.” he said. “Just:
annoying.”
    “Here's the deal,” I said to him. “I promise to keep my eyes
open for the big pizza, if you'll go away.”
    “How about if I just keep a distance?”
    “Sure. But it has to be out of sight.”
    “Okay. And I'll let you know right away if I get any more
messages.”
    “Deal,” I said.
    I walked him out of the kitchen, past Grandma and the ladies,
and into the hall. I watched him leave, and then I locked and
bolted the front door.
    When I got back to the kitchen, my mother had the spray bottle
of bleach in hand and she was disinfecting the counters and the
stalker's chair. “Marion Zajak's daughter doesn't have stalkers.
Catherine Bargalowski's daughter doesn't have stalkers. Why do I
have to be the one with the daughter who has stalkers? Isn't it
enough that my mother kills griefers? I mean, what kind of a woman
kills griefers? Can she go to jail for that? Am I an
accomplice?”
    Grandma came into the kitchen. “That no-good son of a peach
basket ganked me. I had my bitches here and I still got
ganked.”
    “You didn't kill the griefer, did you?” my mother
asked.
    “No. Aren't you listening? He ganked me.”
    My mother and I had no clue what happened when someone got
ganked, but it didn't sound good.
    “Thank heaven,” my mother said. And she made the sign of the
cross.
    “I got big news,” Lula said, flashing the ring. “Notice anything
new?”
    “Wow, that's a pip of a ring,” Grandma said.
    “I'm engaged to my big sweet potato, Tank,” Lula said. “I'm
thinking of a June wedding.”
    “You can't go wrong with a June wedding,” Grandma said. “Do you
have the hall?”
    “No,” Lula said. “I only just got started.”
    “What about flowers?” Grandma asked.
    “I was thinking little pink sweetheart roses.”
    “You could put them on the cake, too.