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Chapter One
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 five feet five inches shes two inches shorter than I am.
Shes a smidgeon 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 midthirties 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.
Okay, 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 launch 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.
I was more concerned about the storeroom than the coffee machine.
Some of the cabinet drawers werent completely closed and the items stashed on the shelves had been shoved around.
Were you looking for something in the storeroom over the weekend?
Nuh-uh, not me, Lula said.
I only was here for a couple hours on Saturday.
It wasnt normal behavior for Connie to leave the storeroom like this.
I know the gas station Connie uses, I said to Lula.
You stay here and man the desk, and Ill see if I can track her down.
Get doughnuts on your way back, Lula said.
verify you get a Boston cream for me.
Connie lives on the outskirts of the Burg and gets gas on State Street.
I took Hamilton to State and turned left.
I didnt see Connies car, so I went inside and asked the cashier if shed seen Connie.
A couple inches shorter than me, I said to the cashier.
Lots of dark brown hair, lots of eyebrows, lots of mascara, about my age.
She was going to get lottery tickets this morning.
Yeah, she was here, the cashier said.
Shes chesty, right?
I was supposed to meet her, but she didnt show up, I said.
Did she say anything about where she was going?
She got her lottery tickets and left.
I drove to the bakery, got a box of doughnuts, and returned to the office.
Did you find her?
I set the doughnut box on Connies desk.
She got lottery tickets at the gas station.
And I found out that she got doughnuts at the bakery.
I dont see no Connies doughnuts.
I dont even see no fresh powdered sugar or chocolate icing smudges anywhere on her desk.
Whered she go with my doughnut after she left the bakery?
Theres something wrong here.
Lula looked in the box I had just put in front of her.
Theres no Boston cream.
They were sold out.
We hung out in the office eating doughnuts and drinking coffee.
An hour went by and there was still no Connie.
Maybe you should check her email, I said to Lula.
Youre sitting in her chair.
Okay, I guess that makes sense, but how am I going to do that?
Shes got a password.
She keeps all her passwords in a notebook in the bottom drawer with her office gun.
Lula opened the drawer and pulled the book out.
Shes got a lot of passwords, Lula said, paging through.
I could see where her life is unnecessarily complicated.
I only have one password.
I use it for everything, so I dont need a book like this.
Thats frowned on in the world of cybersecurity.
Lula blew out a raspberry.
Thats what I think of cybersecurity.
She found the password, typed it in, and the computer came alive.
She opened email and scrolled through a bunch of messages.
Heres a court report, she said.
It looks like three idiots failed to appear for their hearings on Friday.
Ill print them out for you.
If he doesnt have the money, he gets it from a bail bondsman like Vinnie.
I took the printouts from Lula and paged through them.
Brad Winter was a no-show on a blackmail charge.
It carried a high bond.
Carpenter Beedle tried to rob an armored truck and accidentally shot himself in the foot.
Also a high bond.
Bellissima Morelli was charged with arson, resisting arrest, and assaulting a police officer.
Holy cow, I said.
This last one is Joes grandmother.
Lula leaned forward to get a better look at the file.
I wasnt paying that close attention.
When I was five years old and Joe Morelli was six, we played choo-choo in his fathers garage.
This wasnt an entirely rewarding experience because I was always the tunnel and I wanted to be the train.
When I was seventeen, I volunteered my virginity to Morelli in a moment of passion and prurient curiosity.
Two years later I saw him strolling down the sidewalk in Trenton.
Our relationship has improved since then.
Hes a Trenton cop now, working plainclothes in crimes against persons.
I suppose you could say that hes my boyfriend, although the term seems insufficient for our relationship.
Isnt Bella the one who dresses in black like an extra in a Mafia move about Sicily?
And she putstheeyeon people and makes their teeth fall out and they poop their pants?
Well good thing Im working the desk this morning and youre the bounty hunter, Lula said.
I wouldnt want to be the one who has to haul her bony ass back to jail.
She creeps me out.
I left Lula at the office, and I drove to my parents house.
She shops at Giovichinnis Deli and the Italian Peoples and Tasty Pastry bakeries.
The Burg gossip mill is in full force at all these gatherings.
My parents still live in my childhood home.
Its a small duplex thats attached to another duplex.
The inside of the house is packed with comfortable, overstuffed furniture and a lot of memories.
Three tiny bedrooms and one bath upstairs; living room, dining room, kitchen downstairs.
The front door opens to a small foyer that leads to the living room.
It was midmorning, and I knew I would find my mom and Grandma in the kitchen.
Grandma looks like my mom and me, but gravity has taken its toll on Grandma.
I looked in the bowl and grimaced.
Meatloaf, my mom said.
Turkey, sirloin, and pork.
Giovichinni ground it up for me fresh this morning.
Its mostly turkey, Grandma said, on account of your fathers cholesterol is high.
She leaned to the left in her seat and looked behind me.
Wheres your sidekick, Lula?
Connie isnt in the office this morning, so Lulas manning the desk.
I dropped my messenger bag on the floor and sat at the table with Grandma.
Remember when Manny Tortollis garage burned down last month?
Yeah, it was a beauty of a fire, Grandma said.
You could see the flames shooting up into the sky.
Morellis Grandma Bella was charged with arson for that fire, I said.
She was standing on the sidewalk holding an empty one-gallon metal can that used to have kerosene in it.
And she was yelling, Burn, baby, burn!
at the garage, Grandma said.
I got it all straight from Emily Mizner.
Her boy was one of the first cops to get there.
Now hes got boils all over him, even on his private parts.
The failure-to-appear notice came into the office this morning.
My mother stopped mixing and stared at me.
Dont eventhinkabout going after her.
Let Joseph bring her in.
My mom is the only one on the planet who calls Morelli by his first name.
Sometimes I call him Joe, but never Joseph.
Emily told me they werent ordinary boils, Grandma said.
According to Emily, theyre huge.Giganticand oozing pus.
She called them the Devils boils.
Forget the boils, my mother said to me.
Crazy Bella set fire to Manny Tortollis garage!
You dont want to get anywhere near her.
Truth is, Ive gone after people who were a lot more dangerous than Bella.
Ive taken down killers, rapists, and serial mooners.
Not that I wanted to trivialize Bella.
I mean, whos to say if shes for real?
That Bella is a mean one, Grandma said.
She thinks she owns the Burg.
If you have any problems with her, let me know.
Im not afraid of her.
Shes just a big bag of wind with no fashion sense.
Shes been wearing that same dumpy black dress for twenty years.
Who else are you looking for?
Lives in North Trenton.
I read about Carpenter Beedle.
Hes the one who shot himself while he was trying to rob an armored truck.
I wouldnt mind seeing what hes about.
Are you staying for lunch?
If youre leaving now, you could give me a ride, Grandma said.
Your mothers up to her elbows in meatloaf and I need shampoo.
I like the kind they sell at the hair salon.
I just need to get my purse and a jacket.
Three minutes later we were in my car.
Okay, Grandma said.
I say we go after Beedle first.
Its not like he can outrun us since his foot got shot up.
I thought you needed shampoo.
That was a ruse to get out of the house.
Youre missing your wingman, so Im gonna fill in.
Just when you think your day cant get any worse, there it is, yet another disaster.
Not of the magnitude of Connie going missing, but a disaster all the same.
ChapterTwo
I like Grandma a lot but having her ride shotgun doesnt have a lot of appeal.
Its hard to be taken seriously as a bounty hunter when youre partnered with your grandmother.
Not to mention, my mother would have a cow if she knew.
Mom isnt going to be happy about this, I said.
Yeah, shell be nuts, so you better get a move on before she figures it out.
She searched my messenger bag.
Heres Beedles file, she said.
Hes thirty-one years old and he lives at Ninety-Three Brill Street.
I looked over at Grandma.
The gun youve got in your purse.
The gun youre not supposed to have.
Theres a crime wave going on, Grandma said.
A woman has to protect herself.
Besides, Im a responsible gun owner.
I dont need a gun.
Grandma hefted her purse.
Plus, theres an added advantage to packing.
I couldnt argue with that one.
I pulled away from the curb, made a U-turn, and headed for Hamilton Avenue.
I wanted to drive by the office and check to see if Connies car was there.
I never heard of Brill Street, Grandma said.
Youre gonna have to GPS it.
I turned onto Hamilton and parked across the street from the office.
I could see Lula at the desk.
No Connies car at the curb.
Have you heard from Connie?
And I got a empty bakery box.
I had to compensate for not getting the Boston cream by eating all the other lame-ass doughnuts.
And now Im getting acid reflux from drinking so much coffee without nothing more to soak it up.
Anything else going on?
A moron phoned in on account of he wanted to be bonded out.
Whos gonna sit at the desk if I go to the courthouse?
Not to mention, we arent authorized to write a bail bond.
Vinnie and Connie are the only ones who are authorized to write a bond.
Hunh, Lula said.
I bet I could if I wanted to.
Gotta go, I said.
Call me if you hear from Connie.
The street was narrow and lined with two- and three-story grimy brick row houses.
I suspected most of them had been converted into multifamily units.
I was able to park a couple houses down from Beedles address.
This is just the sort of place youd expect an armored-car robber to live, Grandma said.
I bet this neighborhood is filled with criminals.
It looked to me like it was filled with people who couldnt afford to live anywhere else.
If they were criminals, they werent very good ones.
There were three buzzers alongside the door to number 93.
The names on the buzzers were Goldwink, Thomas, Warnick.
I tried the door.
I pushed the buzzer for Goldwink.
No answer for Thomas.
Warnick opened his connection with static.
Warnick yelled when the static died down.
Im looking for Carpenter Beedle, I said.
Hes not here, Warnick said.
He moved back with his mother.
The connection cut out.
Grandma and I returned to my car, and I paged through Beedles file.
Were in luck, I said.
His mother signed for his bond.
She secured it with her car.
She lives on Maymount Street.
Thats off Chambers, Grandma said.
Your cousin Gloria used to live there when she was married to husband number one.
He turned out to be a real stinker.
No word from Lula.
No text message or phone call from Connie.
I took Chambers to Maymount and parked in front of the Beedle house.
I called Connie and didnt get an answer.
Her voice mail didnt kick in.
Theres been a lot of aneurisms going around lately, but we would have heard about that too.
That leaves two possibilities.
The first is that she got fed up with everything and shes on her way to Hawaii.
The second is that she got taken to the mother ship by aliens.
I just saw a special on UFOs, and it was real convincing.
My possibilities were just as irrational, and I hoped just as unlikely.
I couldnt shake the feeling that something bad had gone down and Connie was in the middle of it.
The Beedle house was a small, pale yellow bungalow with a red front door.
A rusted Nissan Sentra was parked in the driveway.
Grandma and I went to the red door, and I rang the bell.
Should I draw my gun?
Hows this gonna happen?
No gun, I said.
Were going to politely request that Carpenter goes with us to get rebonded.
What if he doesnt want to go?
Ill have a go at persuade him.
Is that when I get to draw my gun?
A woman in her midfifties opened the door and looked out at us.
I gave her my nonthreatening, casually pleasant bounty hunter smile.
Im looking for your son, Carpenter.
I work for his bail bonds agent.
Such a nice man, she said.
He was so helpful.
He personally came to the police station to see that Carpenter was released.
He walked him out the door and made sure we safely got into our car.
Carpenter is in the kitchen.
Hes getting ready to go to work.
Panhandler, Carpenter yelled from the kitchen.
Its the second-oldest profession.
Carpenter was at the kitchen table.
His brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he had a three-day-old beard.
He was wearing a wrinkled, washed-out flannel shirt and baggy sweatpants.
He had a filthy sneaker on one foot and an orthopedic sandal on the other.
He clutched a coffee mug in his right hand.
Grandma looked down at the orthopedic-sandaled foot.
I read where you shot yourself in the foot, Grandma said.
Whered the bullet go in?
Did you lose any toes?
No, Carpenter said.
I took a chunk out of the side and broke a bone.
At least its not your gas pedal foot, Grandma said.
I told him over and over not to carry a gun, Mrs. Beedle said.
Does he listen to me?
So, this is what happens.
It was an accident, Carpenter said.
It could have happened to anybody.
Anybodydoesnt take a stab at hold up an armored car, Mrs. Beedle said.
Yeah, I didnt think that one through, Carpenter said.
It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.
Why dont you have a job?
I have a job, Carpenter said.
I was doing okay at it until I got shot in the foot.
This will be my first day back at my corner.
You dont just panhandle, his mother said.
You pick peoples pockets.
I only do that on lean days, Carpenter said.
I dont go after senior citizens.
Hes a CPA, Mrs. Beedle said.
He had a good job downtown.
He was moving up in the company.
I hated that job, Carpenter said.
It gave me eczema.
I spent all day in a cubicle, staring at numbers.
Im my own boss and Im out in the fresh air all day.
Good for you for figuring that out, Grandma said.
Youre a bum, his mother said.
And now youre an armored-car robber.
