Lean Mean Thirteen: (Stephanie Plum 13) by Evanovich Janet

Author:Evanovich, Janet [Evanovich, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780755388493
Publisher: Hachette Littlehampton
Published: 2011-10-12T23:00:00+00:00

Ten

I woke up on the couch with Petiak’s credit report clutched in my hand and sun streaming in through the two living-room windows. The bad part was I had a crick in my neck from sleeping on the couch all night. The good part was I was already dressed.

I went to the kitchen and started brewing coffee. I poured out a bowl of cereal and added milk, saying a silent thank-you to Morelli. It had been thoughtful of him to bring food, and I was sure he would have called back last night if it had been at all possible. I felt my eyes narrow and my blood pressure rise a little thinking about the phone call I never got and made an effort at composure. He was busy. He was working. He was Italian. Yada yada yada.

I finished the cereal, poured myself a cup of coffee, and took it to the living-room window. I looked down into the parking lot. No white Taurus.

Mr Warnick walked out of the building and got into his vintage Cadillac. He was wearing a sports jacket and tie. All dressed up for church. He didn’t look cold. The sky was blue. The sun was shining. Birds were chirping. Spring had sneaked in while I was asleep on the couch.

My head was filled with miscellaneous facts about Smullen, Gorvich, and Petiak. They were all mediocre students in high school. Petiak went to a state college on a military scholarship. Smullen and Gorvich went to colleges that were unfamiliar to me. None of the men had been involved in varsity sports. Smullen had a sweet tooth. Gorvich collected wives but didn’t keep them. Smullen had a wife in South America and a girlfriend in a slum in Trenton.

Smullen had arranged a meeting with me but didn’t show. He’d also done a no-show on his girlfriend. I had bad vibes about Smullen. I was afraid something had gone down, and it hadn’t been good for Smullen.

Next up was a visit to Grandma.

Unfortunately, all RangeMan vehicles are equipped with a tracking device. Between the bug in my purse and the transmitter in the Porsche, RangeMan knew my every move. And the guys were on high Stephanie alert until Ranger returned. I wanted to take a look at the warehouse this morning, and I didn’t want to attract a lot of attention. I didn’t want five guys in RangeMan black hovering around the structure, wondering if they should break in SWAT-style. So I was going to leave my purse and Ranger’s Porsche at my parents’ house and take Uncle Sandor’s Buick.

Uncle Sandor gave Grandma his ’53 powder blue and white Roadmaster Buick when he went into the nursing home. It’s a classic car in cherry condition, and it’s eerily indestructible. Men think it’s a very cool car, but if I had my choice, I’d go with a red Ferrari.

I drove the Cayenne to my parents’ house and popped inside.

‘I’m going to borrow the Buick,’ I told Grandma. ‘I’ll bring it back in a couple of hours.

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