Read Online High Five by Janet Evanovich - Free Book Online Page A

and lock your door,” I said. “We have a little problem here.”
    The door slammed shut and the lock clicked.
    The raincoat guy was running around in his apartment again. “Jesus,” he was saying. “Jesus. Jesus.”
    Another woman appeared in the hall. She was frail and stooped. Her age had to be upwards of a hundred. Her short white hair stuck up in tufts. She was dressed in a worn pink flannel nightgown and big fuzzy slippers. “I can’t sleep with all this racket,” she said. “I’ve lived in this building for forty-three years, and I’ve never seen such goings-on. This used to be a nice neighborhood.”
    The raincoated guy whipped around, pointed his gun at the woman, and fired. The bullet tore into the wall behind her.
    â€œBite me,” the old lady said, pulling a nickel-plated 9mm from somewhere in the folds of her nightgown, aiming the gun two-handed.
    â€
No!
“ I yelled. “Don’t shoot. He’s wired with—”
    Too late. The old lady drilled the guy, the sound of my voice lost in the blast.
    I WOKE UP strapped to a gurney. I was in the apartment-house lobby, and the lobby was filled with people, mostly cops. Morelli’s face swam into focus. He was moving his mouth, but he wasn’t saying anything.
    â€œWhat?” I yelled. “Speak up.”
    He shook his head, waved his hands, and I saw him mouth, “Take her away.” A paramedic rolled the gurney out of the lobby into the night air. We clattered over the sidewalk, and then I felt myself lifted into the ambulance, the flashing strobes blinding against the black sky.
    â€œHey, wait a minute,” I said. “I’m fine. Let me up. Untie these straps.”
    I T WAS MIDMORNING when I was released from the hospital. I was dressed and pacing when Morelli strode into my room with my discharge papers.
    â€œThey’re letting you go,” he said. “If I had my way, I’d move you upstairs to psychiatric.”
    I stuck my tongue out at him because I was feeling exceptionally mature. I grabbed my bag, and we fled the room before the nurse arrived with the mandatory wheelchair.
    â€œI have a lot of questions,” I said to Morelli.
    He steered me toward the elevator. “I have a few of my own. Like, what the hell happened?”
    â€œMe first. I need to know about Tank. No one will tell me anything. Is he, um, you know—?”
    â€œDead? No. Unfortunately. He was wearing a flak vest. The impact of the bullet knocked him back and stunned him. He hit his head when he fell and was out for a while, but he’s fine. And by the way, where were you when he was shot?”
    â€œI was stretched out on the floor. It was past my bedtime.”
    Morelli grinned. “Let me get this straight. You didn’t get shot because you fell asleep on the job?”
    â€œSomething like that. It sounded better the way I phrased it. What about the guy with the bomb?”
    â€œSo far they’ve found a shoe and a belt buckle in the vicinity of what’s left of the apartment—which, by the way, isn’t much— and some teeth on Stark Street.”
    The elevator door opened, and we both stepped in.
    â€œYou’re kidding about the teeth, right?”
    Morelli grimaced and pushed the button.
    â€œNobody else hurt?”
    â€œNo. The old lady got knocked on her ass just like you. Can you corroborate her story that it was self-defense?”
    â€œYeah. The drug guy got a round off before she blew him up. It should be embedded in the wall. . . if the wall’s still there.”
    We exited the downstairs lobby and crossed the street to Morelli’s truck.
    â€œNow what?” Morelli asked. “Your place? Your mother’s house? My place? You’re welcome to stay with me if you’re feeling shaky.”
    â€œThanks, but I need to go home. I want to take a shower and change my clothes.” Then I wanted to go