Page 69 of Three to Get Deadly (Stephanie Plum 3)
I took a deep breath. “Okay, let's do it.”
“Damn skippy,” Lula said.
We paused in the foyer and took stock of the building. A television blaring somewhere. A baby crying. We walked the first flight of stairs slowly, listening as we crept step by step. We stopped on the second-floor landing and took a few deep breaths.
“You aren't gonna hyperventilate, are you?” Lula asked. “I'd hate to have you keel over on me from hyperventilating.”
“I'm okay,” I told her.
“Yeah,” she said. “Me too.”
When we got to the third-floor landing neither of us was breathing at all.
We stood there staring at the door that had been patched with cardboard and two slats of stained plywood. I motioned to Lula to stand aside of the door. She jumped to attention and plastered herself against the wall. I did the same on the opposite side.
I rapped on the door. “Pizza delivery” I yelled.
There was no response.
I rapped harder and the door swung open. Lula and I still weren't breathing, and I could feel my blood pounding behind my eyeballs. Neither Lula nor I made a move for a full minute. We just pressed into the wall, not making a sound.
I called out again. “Leroy? It's Lula and Stephanie Plum. Are you
there, Leroy?”
After a while Lula said, “I don't think he's here.”
“Don't move,” I said. “I'm going in.”
“Help yourself,” Lula said. “I'd go in first, but I don't want to be a hog about this searching shit.”
I inched my way into the apartment and looked around. Everything was as I'd remembered. There was no sign of occupancy. I peeked into the bedroom. No one there.
“Well?” Lula asked from the hall.
“Looks empty.”
Lula poked her head around the doorjamb. “Too bad. I was looking to do another takedown. I was ready to kick some butt.”
I approached the closed bathroom door with my pepper spray in hand. I flipped the door open and jumped back. The door crashed against the wall and Lula dove behind the couch.
I looked into the empty bathroom, and then I looked over at Lula.
Lula picked herself up. “Just testing my reflexes,” Lula said. “Trying out new techniques.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Wasn't that I was scared,” she said. “Hell, takes more than a man like Leroy to scare a woman like me.”
“You were scared,” I said.
“Was not.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Unh-uh, was not. I'll show you who's scared. And it won't t be me. Guess I can open doors too.”
Lula stomped over to the closet door and wrenched it open. The door swung wide with Lula glaring straight into the jammed-together coats and other clothes.
