Hardcore Twenty-Four (Stephanie Plum 24)

“You left the coffee shop and took out four innocent cars.”

“I admit I got carried away. It was like I was in a frenzy, but I wouldn’t have gotten all frenzied up if I’d had my macchiato. It’s a calming influence in the morning. It starts my day off with a smile.”

“Did you have a macchiato today?”

“Yeah. I go to Starbucks now. It’s a longer walk, but they care about their coffee. I get a full cup. Right up to the top. Every time. And it’s nice and hot but not too hot.”

My phone rang, and I saw that it was Lula.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“We’re talking.”

“Just checking. Wanted to make sure you didn’t leave without me.”

I disconnected and turned my attention back to Koot. “Here’s the thing,” I said. “You need to come with me and get rebonded.”

“No. Not going to happen. None of this was my fault. End of story.”

He attempted to close the door, but I had my foot in it.

“You’ll have a chance to tell all this to the judge,” I said.

“Get your foot out of my door, or I’ll shoot it.”

“Have you ever thought about Botox for that wrinkle in your forehead?” I asked.

“Wrinkle? What?”

“You have a big wrinkle between your eyes, and it makes you look angry.”

“That’s because I am angry. You’re disturbing my day. And I don’t like you.”

He wrenched the door open, gave me a shove with both hands, and I stumbled back. He slammed the door shut and by the time I got it open, he was running toward the back of the house. I charged after him and saw him exit through the kitchen. I heard him shriek, and then all was quiet. I looked out the back door and saw that Koot was facedown and Lula was sitting on him.

“Is he breathing?” I asked her.

“Hard to tell.”

I cuffed him, Lula got off, and I pulled him to his feet.

“Are you going to read me my rights?” he asked.

“I’m a bounty hunter,” I said. “You haven’t got any rights. You signed them all away when you took out the bail bond.”

We loaded Koot into my SUV and drove him to the police station. I turned him in and picked up my body receipt.

“That was easy,” Lula said. “We got our A game on today. We got good juju. I can’t wait to rumble at the rally tonight.”

“We aren’t going to rumble. We’re going to quietly stand at the back of the room and try to spot Slick.”

“Sure, I know that, but we might have to rumble a little if things get dicey.”

• • •

I dropped Lula off at the office and went to my parents’ house to mooch lunch. They live five minutes from the office, five minutes from Morelli’s h

ouse, and a time warp away from me. Even when my mom gets a new refrigerator or buys new curtains the house still feels precisely the same as when I was in school. It’s equally comforting and disturbing.