Diesel methodically drove up and down streets in Delvina’s neighborhood. There were some rural areas around Cranbury where a horse could be kept without notice, but we didn’t know where to begin.
I called Connie for a property update.
“I’m not finding anything local,” Connie said. “He’s got real estate in the Caymans and a condo in Miami under LD Sons Import.”
“Did you try his wife’s maiden name?”
“Yeah. Nothing came up.”
Diesel put the Monte Carlo into gear and headed out of town, back to Trenton. We were on Broad Street when Flash called. I gave Diesel raised eyebrows, and he shook his head no. No sign of Grandma or Doug in Bucks County.
“I could use a change of clothes,” Diesel told Flash. “And check to see if the O’Connor mess has been resolved. If it hasn’t been resolved and I need to keep him close, he’s going to need clothes, too. And a toothbrush.”
We stopped at Cluck-?in-?a-?Bucket, got bags of food, and brought them back to my apartment.
Snuggy was still on the couch in front of the television. We dumped the food on the coffee table and we all dug in.
“I got an idea while you were gone,” Snuggy said. “Delvina won’t give us Grandma, because we don’t have all the money, but maybe he’ll take the money we’ve got in exchange for Doug. We can ask for another twenty-?four hours to come up with the rest. And here’s the best part.
Once we get hold of Doug, I can ask him where Delvina is keeping Grandma.”
Diesel was halfway into a second chicken sandwich. “On the surface, that sounds like an okay idea. If it turns out you can’t actually talk to that horse, I’ll throw you off the Route 1 bridge into the Delaware River.”
“You have trust issues,” Snuggy said to Diesel. “I sense some passive-?aggressive tendencies.”
“I’m not passive-?aggressive,” Diesel said. “I’m actively aggressive. And I’d have to be an idiot to trust you. You’re a nut.”
“Should I call Delvina?” I asked Diesel.
“Yeah. At the very worst, it’ll buy us some time.”
I had the money in the duffel bag on the seat next to me. I eased the Monte Carlo up to the car wash and put it in park. I got out and a guy in a car wash uniform got in. The Monte was rolled through the car wash, and when it emerged on the opposite side, the guy got out holding the duffel bag. He walked over to me and gave me a piece of paper. “This is from Mr. Delvina. He said you’d know what to do.”
Diesel and Snuggy were in the RV half a block away. I drove around the block and parked my clean Monte Carlo behind the RV. I got out, locked up, and climbed on board. Snuggy was at the wheel. He was the only one who could fit in the seat.
“Here’s the address,” I said to Snuggy. “It’s south of town, off Broad. It’s a light industrial park that’s pretty much abandoned.”
Ten minutes later, Snuggy maneuvered the RV into the parking lot of a small warehouse. Grass grew from cracks in the pavement and one of the front office windows was covered with a plywood slab. Diesel hopped out and stood still for a moment. I supposed he was taking some sort of cosmic temperature. He walked to a side door, and Snuggy and I hopped out of the RV and followed him.
Diesel opened the door, and we all peered into the dim interior. Something rustled in a far corner, and deep in shadow I could see the horse. He was tethered to a cinder block. He turned his head and looked at us and made a horse sound. Not a high-?pitched whinny. This was more of a low snuffle.
“Doug!” Snuggy yelled. And he ran to the horse and threw his arms around the horse’s neck.
Diesel and I approached the horse, and I could see why Snuggy was so taken. The animal was beautiful. His mane and tail were black and his coat was chestnut. He had large, soulful brown eyes and
long lashes. And he was massive. Even in the dark warehouse, you could sense his power. It was a lot like standing next to Diesel.
We cut the rope away from the cinder block and led Doug through the warehouse to the parking lot.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” I asked Snuggy.
“Sure, it’ll work,” Snuggy said. “Doug’s a real trouper- right, Doug?”
Doug looked at Snuggy with his huge horse eye.
“Just exactly how do you talk to him?” I asked Snuggy.
“It’s sort of telepathic.”