Twisted Twenty-Six (Stephanie Plum 26) by Evanovich Janet

Author:Evanovich, Janet [Evanovich, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781472246165
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2019-11-11T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I MADE CERTAIN that Grandma was safe inside the house, and then I drove myself home.

Rex was asleep in his soup can when I walked into the kitchen, but I talked to him anyway.

“Honestly,” I said to Rex, “this is ridiculous. Who has a job like this? Grocery checkers don’t get wet. People working the line at the Personal Products plant don’t get wet. The lady working the counter at the Häagen-Dazs store doesn’t get wet. Even hamsters don’t get wet. Crappy bounty hunters get wet. Good ones, no. Ranger never got wet. Just crappy ones . . . like me.”

Rex popped his head out of his soup can, blinked at me, and retreated. I couldn’t blame him for retreating. Even I didn’t want to listen to me. I was ranting.

My mood improved after a hot shower. I put a new giant Band-Aid over my stitches, got dressed, and called Morelli.

“What’s new?” I asked.

“Pino’s has a new sandwich at lunch. It’s got fried chicken and melted cheese and they pour gravy over it.”

“I was thinking more in terms of my crap-ass life and the stupid keys.”

“Nothing’s new on that front.”

I blew out a sigh, disconnected, and went back to the office. Connie was surfing her social media sites, and Lula was reading Star magazine.

“Let’s go,” I said to Lula. “Let’s see if we can catch someone.”

Lula got to her feet. “Who’d you have in mind?”

“Anyone.”

“That’s entirely doable,” Lula said.

We got outside and looked at the cars parked at the curb. Lula’s Firebird and my ’53 Buick.

“Let’s take the Buick,” I said.

Lula nodded. “Good idea.”

I drove to Carol Joyce’s house first. The black Escalade was parked in the driveway.

“He’s got a lot of nerve,” Lula said. “He’s got that big-ass car parked right out front, advertising that he’s home.”

“The Superman syndrome,” I said. “Thinks he’s invincible.”

“Just because he made fools out of us the first time, he thinks he can always make fools out of us.”

“Let’s hope he’s wrong.”

I parked in the driveway, behind the Escalade, so he couldn’t drive off. Lula and I went to the front door. I rang the bell. No one answered.

“Maybe he’s out with his mama,” Lula said. “They could be in her car.”

I rang the bell again. “I don’t think so. I think he’s in the house.”

I tried the doorknob. Locked.

“What are we thinking here?” Lula asked. “You want me to shoot the lock off?”

“Do you know how to do that?”

“Sure. You shoot at the lock and it falls off.”

“Let’s save that as a last resort. I’ll go around back. Stay here. And don’t shoot anything.”

I jogged to the back of the house and tried the back door. Locked. I looked in the kitchen window. Everything was tidy. Lula walked into the kitchen and opened the door for me.

“How did you get in?” I asked.

“The window was open. The one next to the door.”

“I don’t remember seeing an open window.”

“It wasn’t actually open.”

“It was unlocked?”

“More like it had a crack in it,” Lula said.

“A crack? How big was the crack?”

“Big enough that I could get my hand in and open the window.

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