Plum and her squad are on the case.

Note that you dont need to have read the other books in the series to jump into this one.

Evanovich quickly catches readers up on all of her regular characters backstories.

Enjoy an exclusive look at the first chapter, excerpted below.

My name is Stephanie Plum.

Its nine in the morning in Trenton, New Jersey.

Everything is good in my world except the office is closed and the lights are off.

This is a first because the office manager, Connie Rosolli, is always at her desk by now.

Lula is a former hooker who now works for Vinnie doing whatever the heck she wants.

At 5 feet, 5 inches shes 2 inches shorter than I am.

Shes a smidgen younger, her skin is a lot darker, and shes a bunch of pounds heavier.

Her hair was yellow today, with braided extensions that hung halfway down her back.

She was wearing a black sweater that was two sizes too small and fuchsia spandex tights.

The office is locked, I said, and Connies car isnt here.

Did you check the lot in the back?

Well, this is just wrong, Lula said.

Shes supposed to be here.

She brings the doughnuts.

What am I supposed to do without my doughnuts?

Connie is in her mid-30s and lives with her widowed mother.

I called Connies cell phone and didnt get an answer, so I called her house phone.

Mama Rosolli answered on the second ring.

Its Stephanie Plum, I said.

She left extra early today so she could get gas and some lottery tickets.

I was still in my robe and nightgown when she was going out the door.

OK, I said.

Lula asked when I hung up.

Her mother said she left early to get gas and lottery tickets.

Have you heard from her?

Shes supposed to be there.

Not today, I said.

The office is locked, and the lights are off.

Youre calling me, why?

I thought you might want to kick off the office for us.

Im in Atlantic City with Big Datucci and Mickey Maroney.

Were waiting on Harry.

Harry the Hammer is Vinnies father-in-law.

He owns the agency, and he owns Vinnie.

Go to the back door, Vinnie said.

Theres a key under the brick by the dumpster.

The bail bonds office is a one-story storefront on Hamilton Avenue.

Its squashed between a dry cleaner and a mystery bookshop, and its across the street from the Burg.

I grew up in the Burg, and my parents still live there.

Cars and televisions are large.

Most of the residents are hardworking, overfed and underpaid.

Lula and I walked around the block to the alley behind the bonds office.

We found the key under the brick, opened the back door and entered the storeroom.

All these odds and ends find their temporary homes in the storeroom.

Small items are kept in multi-drawered metal cabinets.

Medium-sized items are tagged and crammed onto rows of shelves.

The racehorse was kept in Vinnies backyard until the neighbors complained.

Lula walked through the storeroom to the small alcove that served as a kitchenette.

Theres no coffee brewing, she said.

Im not supposed to start my day like this.

I got a routine.

My morning has expectations, if you see what Im saying.