Takedown Twenty (Stephanie Plum 20)

She pulled an ancient six-shooter out of her purse, aimed, and fired off a shot that went wide. I rushed her before she could gather herself together and took her to the floor.

“Cuffs!” I yelled, wrestling the gun from Bella, holding her down. “Someone cuff her!”

Connie peeked out from behind her desk and tossed cuffs my way. I snapped them on Bella and got her up on her feet. Her lips were pressed tight together, and her eyes looked like steel bearing balls.

“What the hell?” Vinnie asked. “What’s going on?”

I sat Bella in one of the cheap orange plastic chairs and called Morelli.

/> “You know your meatball theory?” I said to him. “You were wrong. Your grandmother is here with a revolver. You need to come get her.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“No one was hurt, but I think Vinnie messed his pants.”

It took Morelli fifteen minutes to get across town. Bella still hadn’t said a word. Vinnie was barricaded in his private office. Lula and Connie were hunkered down at the back of the room, where Bella couldn’t see them to give them the eye.

Morelli looked at his handcuffed grandmother, the hole in the far wall, and the revolver on Connie’s desk.

“You’re right,” he said to me. “That’s no meatball.”

“She the devil,” Bella said. “She shoot your godfather, a good man. And she do this to a granny. She have no respect. Look how she treat a poor old lady.”

Morelli blew out a sigh. “Where’d you get the gun?”

“I got lots. An old lady got to protect herself.”

He unlocked her cuffs. “You can’t go around shooting people. It’s against the law, and it’s not nice.”

“I spit on the law,” Bella said. “I do what’s right.”

Morelli took the six-shooter in one hand and held on to his grandmother with the other.

“Thanks for the phone call,” he said to me. “Sorry she shot at you.”

Bella flipped us the bird and marched out with Morelli.

Vinnie opened his door a crack. “Is she gone?”

Connie made the sign of the cross. “Maybe we should bring in a priest. Do an exorcism or something. I could call Father Lenny.”

“Forget Father Lenny,” I said. “I need donuts. Lots of them.”

TEN

“I GOTTA GO feed Kevin,” Lula said. “We could get the donuts on the way.”

“Do you already have his lettuce?”

“Yup. I got a whole bag of it in the fridge in the back room.”

Lula drove us to Tasty Pastry and we got half a dozen donuts. The donuts were gone by the time we got to Fifteenth Street. Lula was looking satisfied, and I was feeling queasy.

It was midmorning, and the weather was glorious. Blue sky, puffy clouds, mid-seventies. Not a lot of traffic at this time of day in this part of town. This was Sunny’s neighborhood, so while it was lousy with wiseguys it was free of street gangs, and no one was loitering at corners or doorways.

Lula had her head out the window while she cruised a four-block grid. “Here, Kevin!” she called. “Come get your lettuce!”

We didn’t see Kevin, and we didn’t see Sunny or his goons.