High Five (Stephanie Plum, No. 5) (Stephanie Plum Novels)
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Out of bail skippers and rent money, Stephanie Plum throws caution to the wind and follows in the entrepreneurial bootsteps of Super Bounty Hunter, Ranger, engaging in morally correct and marginally legal enterprises. So, a scumball blows himself to smithereens on her first day of policing a crack house and the sheik she was chauffeuring stole the limo. But hey, nobody's perfect! Anyway, Stephanie has other things on her mind. Her mother wants her to find Uncle Fred who's missing after arguing with his garbage company; homicidal rapist Benito Ramirez is back, quoting scripture and stalking Stephanie; vice cop Joe Morelli has a box of condoms with Stephanie's name on it; and Stephanie's afraid Ranger has his finger on her trigger. The whole gang's here for mirth and mayhem in Janet Evanovich's High Five. Read at your own risk in public places.
two button and eyeballed me. "Looks like you've been working. Catch any bad guys today?" "Helped a friend clean an apartment." Mrs. Bestler smiled. "What a good girl." The elevator stopped and the doors opened. "Second floor," Mrs. Bestler sang out. "Better dresses. Designer suits. Ladies' lounge." I let myself into my apartment and went straight to the phone machine and its blinking red light. I had two messages. The first was from Morelli, and it was for dinner. Miss Popularity, that's me.
eyes and saw there were lots of people around us. Morelli and Ranger, a couple uniformed cops, and some people from the neighborhood. Plus Mrs. Ruzick was there, holding a big empty pot. "Works every time," Mrs. Ruzick said. "Except usually I hose down cats. This neighborhood has too many cats." Ranger grinned down at me. "Good bust, Tiger." I got to my feet and took stock of myself. No broken bones. No bullet holes. No knife wounds. Ruined manicure. Soaking wet hair and dress. What looked
honeys?" "Fred always has a honey on the side," Grandma said. "Should have been a politician." "You mean Fred has affairs? He's in his seventies!" "Midlife crisis," Grandma said. "Seventy isn't midlife," I said. "Forty is midlife." Grandma slid her uppers around some. "Guess it depends how long you intend to live." I turned to my mother. "You knew about this?" My mother took a couple deli bags of cold cuts out of the refrigerator and emptied them on a plate. "The man's been a philanderer
guess he didn't want to take the original, so he left it home on his desk." "Sorry I can't be more helpful," Shempsky said. "If you want to leave it with me I can ask around. Sometimes different people pick up different things." I dropped the check back into my bag. "Think I'll hang on to it. I have a feeling people have died because of this check." "That's serious," Shempsky said. I walked back to the car feeling spooky and not knowing why. Nothing alarming had happened at the bank. And no
strip mall, and I parked in front of First Trenton. "What we doing here?" Lula wanted to know. Good question. The answer was a little vague to me. "I have a couple canceled checks I want to show my cousin. She's a teller here." "Something special about these checks?" "Yeah. Only I don't know what." I gave them to Lula. "What do you think?" "Looks like a couple plain-ass checks to me." The bank was busy at lunchtime, so we got in line to see Leona. I looked over at Shempsky's office while I