Page 11 of 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.
