Wicked Appetite Page 3

  Diesel put his hand to the doorknob and the door opened.

  “How?” I asked.

  “Don’t know,” Diesel said, pushing into the apartment, closing the door behind us. “It’s just one of those things I can do.”

  I was about to ask what else he could do besides open locks and pull power plugs on Unmentionables, but the apartment had me speechless. It was wall-to-wall food. Cases of peanut butter, SpaghettiOs, Froot Loops, Twinkies, Kraft Mac and Cheese, water-packed tuna, Cheez Doodles, Snickers bars, and cans of mixed nuts lined the walls. Bags of M&M’s, Reese’s Pieces, Peppermint Patties, butterscotch hard candies, malted milk balls, and Hershey’s Miniatures were piled on the coffee table. Plus, every available inch on the kitchen counter was filled with giant jars of mayo, pickles, ketchup, olives, marinara sauce, chocolate sauce, marshmallow goop, hot peppers, and cheese sauce. It was like someone had hijacked Costco. And neatly stacked in the center of the dining room table, like the crown jewels of the food horde, were six Dazzle’s bakery boxes.

  I opened one of the boxes. “These cupcakes belong to Shirley More. She comes into the bakery every day precisely at ten o’clock and gets thirty-six cupcakes. Half are carrot cake with cream cheese icing and the other half are chocolate with pink butter cream icing and party sprinkles.”

  “Yeah. Shirley’s a Glutton, and this is her apartment,” Diesel said.

  “Okay, so she’s a little on the heavy side, but I don’t know if I’d say she’s a glutton.”

  “I wasn’t referring to her eating habits. I was referring to her heritage. Shirley’s family has most likely guarded the Gluttony Stone for centuries. The way it’s been told to me is that there are seven deadly sins known collectively as SALIGIA. Envy, Pride, Greed, Gluttony, Lusty, Grumpy, and Sneezy.”

  “I think some of those were dwarfs,” I said to Diesel.

  “Maybe, but I’m in the ballpark. SALIGIA represents the first initials for the Latin names for the sins. Superbia, Avaratia, Luxuria, Invidia, Gula, Ira, Acedia. Anyway, the legend goes that there are seven SALIGIA Stones, each one holding the power of a different sin. If you combine the Stones in a single vessel, it’s possible to unleash their power and create hell on earth.”

  Good grief. Just when I’m starting to roll with the Julia Roberts and Brad Pitt fairy tale, he throws hell on earth at me.

  “Hell on earth would be a bummer,” I said to him.

  “Yeah. Supposedly, for a thousand years the SALIGIA Stones were guarded by an arcane sect. Then something happened, there was dissention among the elders, and Grumpy took charge and distributed the SALIGIA to the far corners of the earth. Over the years, some were lost and some were bequeathed, and eventually no one knew who held the Stones. Now a rumor’s surfaced that the Stones have all found their way to Salem. Personally, I think it sounds like a low-budget movie script, and I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass, but Wulf is on the hunt for the Stones. And Wulf is my problem. So as it turns out, it’s now your problem, too, since you’re my ticket to the Stones.”

  My eyebrows were up around my hairline. “Are you serious?”

  Diesel shrugged. “I follow orders. And my orders are to stop Wulf from acquiring the Stones. Probably, no one cares if he collects the dwarfs.”

  “What happens if you only get some of the Stones but not all of the Stones?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you just create hell in Connecticut.”

  He handed me a bunch of forks from the silverware drawer. “Does this do anything for you?”

  “Forks?”

  “It’s been a long time. The Stones could have changed shape.”

  “Yes, but this is a fork.” I turned it over and read the name on the back. “It’s Oneida. I know this brand. They’re made in New York, and this looks new. Wouldn’t we be looking for something old?”

  “Old can be hidden inside something new.”

  “And I’m supposed to know it when I see it?”

  “That’s what they tell me. Actually, you have to hold it.”

  “And then what happens?”

  “Don’t know,” Diesel said.

  “What do you know?”

  “Peach Pie, I know stuff that would knock your socks off. I could make you sing the ‘Hallelujah Chorus.’ ”

  I looked at the intelligent brown eyes under fierce eyebrows and the sensuous mouth made slightly sinister in a two-day beard, and I suspected he was telling the truth.

  “I heard that thought,” Diesel said.

  “You are such a jerk!”

  He tugged at my ponytail. “Yeah, but I’m fun.”

  He took the forks, put them back into the drawer, and handed me knives and spoons.

  I hefted the knives and spoons and passed them back to Diesel. “Why do you think Shirley More is a Glutton?”

  “Wulf’s been following her around.” He gave me a teapot to hold. “And all the signs are here. Word on the street is, the keeper can take on some of the sin.”

  Diesel opened one of the cupcake boxes and looked inside. “These cupcakes are a work of art.”

  “Thank you. I make all the cupcakes for Dazzle’s. They’re my specialty.”

  He took a chocolate cupcake out of the box and ate half.

  “That’s stealing,” I told him.

  “I’ve seen Shirley. This is an act of charity. Shirley needs to cut back on the cupcakes.” He finished off the remaining half, licked his lips, and sent me his killer smile. “That was the best cupcake of my life,” he said. “I’m in love.”

  “I’m guessing it doesn’t take much to make you fall in love.”

  “It takes a lot. You underestimate your cupcakes.”

  Forty minutes later, I’d handled everything in sight and lots of things that were hidden away. Nothing tingled, buzzed, burned, or sent me subliminal messages.

  “Two possibilities,” Diesel said. “Either the thing isn’t here, or else you’re a dud.”

  “Hey, I didn’t ask for this job. You were the one who decided I had magical powers.”

  “Not my call,” Diesel said. “The BUM picked you out of the gene pool.”

  “BUM?”

  “Board of Unmentionable Marshalls. And you don’t have magical powers. That would be Siegfried and Roy. You have an enhanced ability to detect a certain kind of energy. At least, that’s the theory. You and some weird guy in Florida.”

  “That’s it? Only the two of us?”

  “Apparently. And the jury is still out on you.”

  “Maybe you should be dragging the weird guy around.”

  “The critical word in that sentence is weird. I passed him off to an associate.”

  “What about Wulf? He must be able to find this thing.”

  “Wulf is like me. He can find people. He needs help to find an empowered object. And there are only two ways he can get that help . . . from the keeper or from you. And he can’t have you. You’re mine.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Diesel grinned. “Lucky you.”

  “What about the guy in Florida?”

  “He’s on ice.”

  I thought about pinching myself to make sure I was awake, but it was such a cliché I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And what if I was awake? How awful was that? It meant Diesel was real.

  “I’m having a nightmare, right?”

  “Wrong. I’m real,” Diesel said. “And it wouldn’t kill you to think a good thought about me.”

  “Are you thinking good thoughts about me?”

  His eyes dilated black and the corners of his mouth softened into the hint of a smile. “Would you like to know my thoughts?”

  “No!”

  My attention went to a framed photo on an end table. It was a picture of a woman resembling Shirley, a second woman, and two men. They didn’t look like couples. For that matter, they didn’t even look like they were friends. The picture had been taken outdoors, and from the flowers in the background, I was guessing it was summer. The two men and two women were smilin
g, but their smiles looked forced.

  “Do you suppose this is Shirley?” I asked Diesel.

  “If it’s Shirley, she was younger and a lot thinner.” He put his hand to my back and moved me toward the door. “We need to get out of here. Shirley is a creature of habit, and she’s due home any minute.”

  Enough said. I was out of the apartment like I’d been shot from a cannon. I got ten feet down the hall before Diesel grabbed me from behind and yanked me to a halt.

  “Don’t run,” Diesel said, his hand still holding fast to my T-shirt. “It attracts attention.”

  I immediately went still. The last thing I wanted to do was attract attention. I looked around. “Do you think anyone saw us leave her apartment?”

  “Sweetie, it’s just you and me in the hall.”

  “Yes, but all these doors have peepholes. Maybe someone’s looking out a peephole.”

  “You need to chill.”

  “You’re telling me to chill? I just broke into a woman’s apartment! I never do that sort of thing. I was a law-abiding citizen before I met you. That was illegal entry, gross violation of privacy, and not a nice thing to do. Do you know what happens to people who do breaking and entering and searching and snooping? They go to prison.”

  “Not always,” Diesel said.

  “Not always? That’s all the comfort you can give me? What kind of an alien are you anyway?”

  Diesel steered me into the elevator. “I’m not an alien. I’m a human with Unmentionable abilities . . . like you.”

  “I am not an Unmentionable.”

  Diesel punched the first-floor button. “How do you explain your cupcakes?”

  “I’m an excellent baker. I’ve always made great cupcakes.”

  “Honey, those are Unmentionable cupcakes.”

  “That’s ridiculous. My parents never said anything to me about being Unmentionable. It’s not on my birth certificate.”

  “Maybe your parents didn’t know. Sometimes the gene is passed from one generation to the next. Sometimes the gene just suddenly appears with no apparent history.” The elevator doors opened to the ground floor and Diesel pushed me out into the small lobby. “Some Unmentionables can throw lightning, some can levitate a dump truck,” Diesel said. “You can make cupcakes. You were born with the Unmentionable cupcake gene.”

  I slid a squinty-eyed sidewise look at him. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t all true.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  We left the building and crossed the sidewalk to Glo. She was waiting in the car, head back, eyes closed, hooked up to her iPod, singing at full volume. Diesel rapped on the back side window, and Glo jumped in her seat.

  “Make a mental note,” Diesel said to me. “You don’t want to get caught like that by Wulf. He’ll be all over you in a heartbeat. Stay vigilant when I’m not with you.”

  It seemed to me I might be in more danger from Diesel than from Wulf. Wulf only popped up twice, and he left right away. I couldn’t get rid of Diesel, and I really had no way of knowing if he was a good guy or a bad guy.

  Diesel looked down at me, and I suspected he knew my thoughts. His eyes darkened ever so slightly, but aside from that, his expression was unreadable.

  “What happens if we find this Stone?” I asked him.

  “I hand it over to the BUM, and they put it someplace safe,” Diesel said.

  “Suppose Shirley doesn’t want to give it to you?”

  “I persuade her to change her mind.”

  “Would you steal it?”

  “That wouldn’t be my first choice.”

  “And Wulf?”

  Diesel opened the car door for me. “Wulf will do whatever it takes to get what he wants.”

  We got into the SUV, Diesel plugged the key into the ignition, and we went silent at the sight of a woman walking toward us on the opposite side of the street.

  “Is that Cupcake Shirley?” Glo asked, leaning forward from the backseat.

  “Yep,” I said. “It’s Shirley.”

  Shirley was alone, carrying an oversize purse and a take-home bag from a local restaurant. She had short, curly brown hair and a pretty face. I placed her at late-thirties. She was average height, and her weight was average for a woman who could eat thirty-six cupcakes in a single sitting. She was wearing a flower-print tent dress and low heels.

  A silver Camry pulled up next to Shirley, and the guy in the passenger seat rolled his window down and called out to her. We were too far away to hear his words, but Shirley looked annoyed and shook her head no. There was a brief conversation, then Shirley turned and resumed walking. The guy got out, ran after Shirley, and grabbed her by her arm. Shirley spun around, coldcocked him in the face with her purse, and kicked him square in the crotch. The guy stood stunned for a moment, dropped to his knees, and went fetal. Shirley continued on her way.

  “Ow,” Diesel said.

  The Camry driver got out from behind the wheel, dragged his passenger back to the car, and they took off.

  “I know this is weird, but I’m pretty sure those were the men in the photo,” I said to Diesel.

  “What photo?” Glo wanted to know.

  “Diesel was looking for something in Shirley’s apartment just now, and while we were there, I saw a photo of her and another woman and those two men.”

  “Get out!” Glo’s voice shot into Minnie Mouse range. “You were in Cupcake Shirley’s apartment? What were you looking for? Is she a thief? A spy? An Internet porn star?”

  “She’s a Glutton,” I said.

  “Yeah, but you can’t hold that against her,” Glo said. “Did you get what you were looking for?”

  “No.”

  “You should go back and confront her and demand that she hand it over. And if she won’t hand it over, I could put a spell on her. There’s a whole chapter in my book on making people spill the beans.”

  I looked over at Diesel. “What do you think?”

  “The spell might be fun.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the spell. I was talking about confronting her.”

  Diesel pulled the key out of the ignition. “We could try that, too.”

  Three minutes later, we were all at Shirley’s door.

  “What’s the plan?” Glo asked.

  “This is going to be the Lizzy Show,” Diesel said, back on his heels. “Lizzy is going to explain to Shirley how she shorted her a cupcake.”

  “Works for me,” Glo said. “And what are we trying to get?”

  “The Gluttonoid,” Diesel said.

  I did a giant eye roll. “Good grief.”

  Diesel grinned at me. “You don’t like Gluttonoid?”

  “You just made that up.”

  “Yeah,” Diesel said. “You got something better?”

  I turned to Glo. “You know how when you go out to buy new shoes and you don’t exactly know what you want until you see it? The thing we’re looking for is sort of like that.”

  Diesel rang the bell, and Shirley opened the door and peeked out at us.

  “Hi,” I said. “We’re from Dazzle’s. I’m the cupcake baker, and you probably know Glo.”

  Shirley smiled wide. “Sure. I know both of you. I love Dazzle’s. I’m thinking about increasing my cupcake order.”

  She looked beyond me to Diesel, and her eyes glazed over a little, like she’d just seen the mother of all cupcakes.

  “This is Diesel,” I told her.

  “ ’Lo,” Shirley said.

  I pushed past Shirley and eased myself in. “I wanted to talk to you about the cupcakes.”

  That got Shirley’s attention off Diesel. “What about them? You’re not going to stop making them, are you? I couldn’t get through the day without them. I save them for bedtime.”

  “I just wanted to tell you there’s a cupcake missing. I dropped a cupcake on the floor while I was filling the boxes, and I didn’t have any extras. I meant to put a note in with your order but forgot. So we s
topped by to tell you.”

  “Was it chocolate or carrot cake?”

  “Chocolate.”

  “I love the chocolate ones,” she said.

  Glo followed me in, and in my peripheral vision I could see her head swiveling around, scoping out Shirley’s apartment.

  “Yowza,” Glo whispered.

  “It looked like you had a scuffle with a man just as we were driving up,” I said to Shirley. “Are you okay?”

  “That was my idiot stepbrother, Mark. I haven’t seen him in seven years, not since my Uncle Phil died, and now all of a sudden he’s following me around, asking for stuff.”

  Holy cow. She coldcocked her stepbrother. I had the guy pegged for a mugger or random pervert. “What kind of stuff does he want? Is he, you know, dangerous?”

  “I don’t know. My parents divorced when I was four, and my mom and I moved to Seattle. I never saw my stepbrothers or my cousins until Uncle Phil died. I came back for the funeral and never left. How strange is that, right?”

  “So you lived here in Salem for seven years, but you never saw your stepbrother after the funeral?”

  “I guess everyone was mad because I was in the will. No one was real friendly to me.”

  “What did Uncle Phil leave you?” I asked her.

  “It’s a secret. All the inheritances were secret, and we were told we’d have eternal bad luck if we revealed what we got.”

  “Wow,” Glo said. “Eternal bad luck would be for a long time.”

  “Yeah. And now idiot Mark wants my inheritance. He says he’s a collector. Fat chance he has of ever getting it. He couldn’t pay me enough. Him and his brother, Lenny. Too bad I didn’t get a chance to kick Lenny in the you-know-whats. Except Lenny would probably like it. From what I can see, Lenny is a real glutton for punishment.”

  “That’s an odd choice of words,” Diesel said.

  “It’s a figure of speech,” Shirley said.