Read Online 14 Fearless Fourteen by Janet Evanovich - Free Book Online
Authors: Janet Evanovich
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slacks, white
tennis shoes, and flowered shirt. Her gray hair was freshly set in
rows of curls, her nails were painted to match her slacks. She'd
been a beauty in her time, but a lot of her had shrunk and sagged.
This went unnoticed by Grandma, who seemed to get younger in spirit
as her body aged.
“Who do we have here?” she wanted to know.
“This is Mario Rizzi, Loretta's son. Everyone calls him
Zook.”
“Zook,” Grandma said. “That's a pip of a name. I wish I had a
name like that.”
She took a closer look at him. “You got a awful lot of holes in
you. How do you sleep with all those rings attached to your head?
Don't it bother you when you roll over?”
“You get used to it,” Zook said.
“You remind me of someone,” Grandma said. “Stephanie, who does
he look like?”
I gnawed on my lower lip. “Gee, I don't know.”
Grandma snapped her fingers. “I know who it is. It's Morelli!
He's the spitting image of Joseph when he was Zook's
age.”
“They're very, very distant cousins,” I said.
Zook peeked into the living room. “This house has high speed
Internet, right?”
“Sure, we got cable,” Grandma said. “We're not in the Stone Age
here. I blog and everything.”
“I have to go,” I said to Zook. “Don't paint anything. Moondog
doesn't stand a chance against Grandma.”
I left my parents' house and drove the short distance to
Morelli's house to let Bob out to tinkle. I parked and let myself
in through the front door. The house was quiet. No Bob feet
galloping to greet me.
“Bob!” I yelled. “Yoohoo! Want to go out?”
Nothing. I walked through the dining room to the kitchen. Still
no sign of Bob. I looked out the window over the sink and saw Bob
sitting in the sun in Morelli's little backyard. Bob was wearing
his collar but no leash. Morelli wasn't around. I opened the back
door, and Bob rushed in, tail wagging, all smiley
face.
I wasn't nearly so happy as Bob. I had creepy crawlies, plus the
willies. I took Bob's leash off the kitchen counter, snapped it
onto Bob's collar, and walked him straight through the house to the
front door, out the door to my car.
I loaded Bob into the back of the Sentra and I called
Morelli.
“I stopped by to let Bob out to tinkle, and he was sitting in
your backyard,”
I said. “Did you let him out?”
“No. You were the last one out of the house.”
“Bob was sleeping in your bed when I left. And I know your
kitchen door was locked, because I remember checking it, but it was
unlocked when I got here just now.”
“Does it look like anything is missing? Any sign of forced
entry?”
“I didn't hang around long enough to find out. I've got Bob in
my car, and I'm dropping him at my mom's. You need to go home and
walk through the house, and please don't do it alone, like a big,
stupid, macho cop. Two break-ins in a row is too much of a
coincidence. Something is going on here.”
CHAPTER SIX
It had taken me longer than I would have thought to get clothes
for the dinner. I had Ranger's credit card, with a limit high
enough to buy a house, but I couldn't spend beyond my own comfort
zone. And then there were Ranger's rules, which he hadn't
articulated but I knew existed. He'd want me in black, and he'd
want me to wear something that would allow me to move about
unnoticed.
I'd done a decent job, with the possible exception of the skirt.
And lucky for Ranger, I'd run out of time before I got around to
accessorizing at Tiffany's.
I hiked my skirt up over my knees so I wouldn't catch my heel in
my hem, and I ran through the parking lot to the hotel. I was ten
minutes late. I was wearing a white silk camisole under a short
black satin jacket and a simple floor-length black skirt with a
slit up the front that stopped a couple inches short of
slut.
I barreled through the lobby and was sideswiped by the stalker.
He reached out for me, and I slapped his hand away.
“I have to talk to you,” he said.
“Go away,” I told him, on the run for
tennis shoes, and flowered shirt. Her gray hair was freshly set in
rows of curls, her nails were painted to match her slacks. She'd
been a beauty in her time, but a lot of her had shrunk and sagged.
This went unnoticed by Grandma, who seemed to get younger in spirit
as her body aged.
“Who do we have here?” she wanted to know.
“This is Mario Rizzi, Loretta's son. Everyone calls him
Zook.”
“Zook,” Grandma said. “That's a pip of a name. I wish I had a
name like that.”
She took a closer look at him. “You got a awful lot of holes in
you. How do you sleep with all those rings attached to your head?
Don't it bother you when you roll over?”
“You get used to it,” Zook said.
“You remind me of someone,” Grandma said. “Stephanie, who does
he look like?”
I gnawed on my lower lip. “Gee, I don't know.”
Grandma snapped her fingers. “I know who it is. It's Morelli!
He's the spitting image of Joseph when he was Zook's
age.”
“They're very, very distant cousins,” I said.
Zook peeked into the living room. “This house has high speed
Internet, right?”
“Sure, we got cable,” Grandma said. “We're not in the Stone Age
here. I blog and everything.”
“I have to go,” I said to Zook. “Don't paint anything. Moondog
doesn't stand a chance against Grandma.”
I left my parents' house and drove the short distance to
Morelli's house to let Bob out to tinkle. I parked and let myself
in through the front door. The house was quiet. No Bob feet
galloping to greet me.
“Bob!” I yelled. “Yoohoo! Want to go out?”
Nothing. I walked through the dining room to the kitchen. Still
no sign of Bob. I looked out the window over the sink and saw Bob
sitting in the sun in Morelli's little backyard. Bob was wearing
his collar but no leash. Morelli wasn't around. I opened the back
door, and Bob rushed in, tail wagging, all smiley
face.
I wasn't nearly so happy as Bob. I had creepy crawlies, plus the
willies. I took Bob's leash off the kitchen counter, snapped it
onto Bob's collar, and walked him straight through the house to the
front door, out the door to my car.
I loaded Bob into the back of the Sentra and I called
Morelli.
“I stopped by to let Bob out to tinkle, and he was sitting in
your backyard,”
I said. “Did you let him out?”
“No. You were the last one out of the house.”
“Bob was sleeping in your bed when I left. And I know your
kitchen door was locked, because I remember checking it, but it was
unlocked when I got here just now.”
“Does it look like anything is missing? Any sign of forced
entry?”
“I didn't hang around long enough to find out. I've got Bob in
my car, and I'm dropping him at my mom's. You need to go home and
walk through the house, and please don't do it alone, like a big,
stupid, macho cop. Two break-ins in a row is too much of a
coincidence. Something is going on here.”
CHAPTER SIX
It had taken me longer than I would have thought to get clothes
for the dinner. I had Ranger's credit card, with a limit high
enough to buy a house, but I couldn't spend beyond my own comfort
zone. And then there were Ranger's rules, which he hadn't
articulated but I knew existed. He'd want me in black, and he'd
want me to wear something that would allow me to move about
unnoticed.
I'd done a decent job, with the possible exception of the skirt.
And lucky for Ranger, I'd run out of time before I got around to
accessorizing at Tiffany's.
I hiked my skirt up over my knees so I wouldn't catch my heel in
my hem, and I ran through the parking lot to the hotel. I was ten
minutes late. I was wearing a white silk camisole under a short
black satin jacket and a simple floor-length black skirt with a
slit up the front that stopped a couple inches short of
slut.
I barreled through the lobby and was sideswiped by the stalker.
He reached out for me, and I slapped his hand away.
“I have to talk to you,” he said.
“Go away,” I told him, on the run for
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