Look Alive Twenty-Five (Stephanie Plum, #25)

by Janet Evanovich

Lula’s baby is a shiny, perfectly maintained red Firebird with a sound system that could shake the fillings loose from your teeth. My car is an ancient faded blue Chevy Nova. It has a lot of rust, and a while back someone rudely spray-painted pussy on it. I covered the writing with silver Rust-Oleum glitter paint that was on sale. Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough paint to cover the whole car.

Is this making a reference to the car that Stephanie got in the first book? Or is this another car that got tagged?

“They perform at the Snake Pit every Thursday and Friday.” “I guess that makes sense for someone that’s got a snake tattooed on his neck,” Lula said. “Where’s it at?”

Didn’t they visit the snake pit in a previous case many books ago?

“Martin Kammel?” I asked. “Yeah.” I gave him my card. “I’m looking for Victor Waggle. He missed his court date and he needs to reschedule.” “This is about pissing on the dog, right? We all told him he shouldn’t have done that.” “He also stabbed two people,” I said. “That was an accident. He was on a bad trip and got confused,” Kammel said. “Like, that could happen to anybody, right?”

“This is a good job,” Hal said. “We don’t get pie at Rangeman. He doesn’t want us to get fat.”

Frankie drove the Central GP truck that brought us paper products, condiments, canned goods, baked goods, fresh produce, packaged lunch meats, dairy, and weed. My understanding was that the more exotic controlled substances were a special order. I personally don’t do drugs. I have enough trouble making smart decisions when I’m clean and sober.

“I doubt Harry would be bothered by any of those problems,” Ranger said. “He’s made his share of people disappear in the past. The only difference is that most of those people were found shortly after they were shot, choked, or bludgeoned with a shovel.”

“Nice work,” I said. “You should be the one named Tarzan.” “It’s been a while since I chased someone down. I spend most of my time behind a desk now.” It was obvious that he also spent time in the gym because his body was perfect, and he hadn’t broken a sweat capturing Tarzan. My body had to make do with good genes, because I hated the gym. My favored exercise was walking the length of the mall to get to Cinnabon. So far, I was holding my own, but I suspect the future might be ugly.

Lula cruised on down the street, and the Rangeman guy followed close behind. We stopped at the diner and invited the Rangeman guy to join us for lunch, but he declined. “He looks like he eats granola bars made out of tree bark and beetles,” Lula said. “And I bet he goes commando.” The commando remark required a moment of silence from both of us while we enjoyed the mental image. At the end of the moment we gave up a sigh and ordered Taylor’s pork roll sandwiches with cheese and a side of fries.

Wulf spread his arms wide, flaring his cape. There was a flash of blinding light, a crack of thunder, a lot of smoke, and when the smoke cleared, Wulf and Ryan Meier were gone. “I didn’t see that,” Morelli said. I agreed. I didn’t see it either. “I saw it,” Hal said. “It was awesome.” Ranger stayed stoic, but I knew he was mentally rolling his eyes.