Janet Evanovich - Takedown Twenty

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**Powerhouse author Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum novels are “laugh-out-loud funny” ( *St. Louis Post-Dispatch* ), “brilliantly evocative” ( *The Denver Post* ), and “making trouble and winning hearts” ( *USA Today* ).** **** **Stephanie Plum has her sights set on catching a notorious mob boss. If she doesn’t take him down, he may take her out.** **** New Jersey bounty hunter Stephanie Plum knows better than to mess with family. But when powerful mobster Salvatore “Uncle Sunny” Sunucchi goes on the lam in Trenton, it’s up to Stephanie to find him. Uncle Sunny is charged with murder for running over a guy (twice), and nobody wants to turn him in—not his poker buddies, not his bimbo girlfriend, not his two right-hand men, Shorty and Moe. Even Trenton’s hottest cop, Joe Morelli, has skin in the game, because—just Stephanie’s luck—the godfather is his *actual* godfather. And while Morelli understands that the law is the law, his old-world grandmother, Bella, is doing everything she can to throw Stephanie off the trail. It’s not just Uncle Sunny giving Stephanie the run-around. Security specialist Ranger needs her help to solve the bizarre death of a top client’s mother, a woman who happened to play bingo with Stephanie’s Grandma Mazur. Before Stephanie knows it, she’s working side by side with Ranger and Grandma at the senior center, trying to catch a killer on the loose—and the bingo balls are not rolling in their favor.  With bullet holes in her car, henchmen on her tail, and a giraffe named Kevin running wild in the streets of Trenton, Stephanie will have to up her game for the ultimate takedown. ### About the Author **Janet Evanovich** is the #1 *New York Times* bestselling author of the Stephanie Plum novels, twelve romance novels, the Alexandra Barnaby novels, the Lizzy and Diesel series, *How I Write: Secrets of a Bestselling Author,* and *The Heist,* the first book in the Fox and O’Hare series ** with co-author Lee Goldberg.

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“I didn’t shoot him.”

“Too bad. I would have thrown in the coleslaw for free.”

I felt my eyebrows go up an inch. I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “You’re not in love with Uncle Sunny?”

“He wasn’t nice to my brother, Gino. He’s not nice to a lot of people.”

“I don’t suppose you know where he’s hiding.”

“When Sunny shops here he buys blood sausage and fresh fusilli. We carry the blood sausage just for him. No one else wants it. Yesterday Bella came in and bought blood sausage and fresh fusilli.”

Bella mostly lived with Joe’s mom. When Joe’s mom needed a break she shipped Bella off to one of the other relatives, but Bella always came back.

“Thanks,” I said to Tina.

“Don’t thank me,” Tina said. “I didn’t tell you anything.”

I parked on a side street around the corner from the Morelli house and ate my lunch. If Sunny was holing up there, he was effectively off-limits to me. I was never Joe’s mom’s first choice for a daughter-in-law. If I barreled into her house with guns drawn and took down her houseguest, I could kiss any future with Joe goodbye. And I couldn’t begin to guess what Bella would do. I suspected it would involve conjuring zombies and evil spirits, and shooting handheld missiles into my living room.

I called Morelli.

“What?” Morelli said.

“Are you in a bad mood?”

“I’m not in a good mood.”

“Because?”

“Bob horked up last night’s dinner on the rug.”

“What did you feed him?”

“Hot dogs.”

“Duh. Anything else?”

“My television isn’t working.”

“And?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s not much. I bet I can put you in a really bad mood.”

“Don’t do me any favors.”

“I think there’s a good possibility your mom is hiding Uncle Sunny.”

“Hiding?”

“In her house.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. I’m serious. I think he’s sitting there on a rubber donut, scarfing down blood sausage and pasta, watching Ghost Hunters episodes with Bella.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Have you been there lately?”

“No. Not since I was shot.”

“Maybe you should go over and check it out.”

“No way. I don’t want to know. This conversation never happened. If I found him at my mother’s house I’d have to accuse her of harboring a fugitive.”

“That would be awkward. Do you think I should go in and root him out?”

“No! I think you should go to the beach. Get some frozen custard.”

“Do you want to come with me?”

“I can’t. The cable company is supposed to come fix my television. If you’re not here when they come they never come again.”

“There’s only a one percent chance that they’ll show up anyway.”

Morelli mumbled something about God and vengeance and the cable company, and hung up.

I couldn’t see his mother’s house from where I was parked, but I could see cars coming and going down the street. I was sitting there thinking the beach would be a terrific idea if I had a car that got more than three miles to a gallon when Ranger pulled up behind me in his 911 Turbo. He got out and walked over.

“Either you ran out of gas or else you’re trying to execute a stakeout in this blue elephant,” Ranger said.

“I think Sunny might be holed up with Joe’s mom and Grandma Bella.”

“That would be awkward.”

“My exact words! Did you come to rescue me again?”

“Among other things. I kept waking up last night thinking about the giraffe. Why is there a giraffe running loose on Fifteenth Street?”

“I don’t know. The first time Lula and I saw him there was a black SUV chasing him. They both turned the corner, there was gunfire, and when Lula and I went to investigate there was a guy lying in the road with a dart stuck in him. The guy died at the hospital.”

“And the giraffe is still hanging out?”

“Yep.”

“And there’s been no mention in the media?”

“Nope.”

“Nothing on the police scanners?”

“Nope.”

“Have you told anyone about this?”

“A couple people.”

“You don’t seem to be very disturbed by it all.”

“I have people trying to kill me. A giraffe is low on my list of disturbances.”

“That’s where we differ,” Ranger said. “I’m used to people trying to kill me, but it’s not every day I’m almost run over by a giraffe.”

“So I’m guessing you want to go big game hunting?”

Ranger slowly drove his Porsche down Fifteenth Street as we looked for signs of Kevin. We’d been at it for about an hour, systematically following a grid that included alleys and cross streets. I’d done the drill with Lula and had turned up zip, but I didn’t mind doing it again with Ranger. I loved the intimacy and the power of the Porsche, and in the confined space, Ranger smelled great. He smelled like the Bulgari shower gel his housekeeper bought for him. When I use his shower gel the scent disappears almost immediately, but Ranger carries it all day.

Plus there was the added benefit that we might run across Sunny. Instinct told me he was with Bella, but other parts of my brain knew he could just as easily be in one of the buildings on Fifteenth Street.

Ranger stopped at the corner of Fifteenth and Freeman. “No giraffe,” he said.

“Yeah, it’s a real bummer, isn’t it? Whenever you go looking for him you can’t find him, and then when you least expect it he gallops down the street.”

“I can’t believe I’m this hung up on a giraffe.”

“That’s just the way it is with some people.”

Ranger looked at me. “Not you.”

“Nope. Not me. But Lula is obsessed with him.”

“That’s not a comforting thought.”

I burst out laughing, because it’s not often I see the human side of Ranger. Most of the time Ranger is chill.

“We’re done here, right?” I asked him.

“Right.”

Ranger drove me back to my car, but my car wasn’t there. A black Honda CR-V was parked at the curb.

“I replaced the Buick with one of my fleet cars,” Ranger said. “You’re too easily recognized in the Buick.”

“Where’s the Buick?”

“In your parents’ driveway. Did you turn up anything interesting this morning on the murders?”

“The women shopped where they got the senior discount even though some store locations were inconvenient. Melvina, Bitsy, and Rose shopped on Saturday. Lois didn’t completely fit that profile. I’m sure it’s because Lois had her own car and wasn’t relying on someone to chauffeur her around. I’m going to make some phone calls and try to find out who took the women shopping. Maybe you could have someone ask Ruppert for me.”

The black Lincoln rolled past us and parked in front of the Morelli house. Moe got out of the front passenger seat and carried a duffel bag into the house. He left a little later without the bag, got into the Lincoln, and the car disappeared down the street.

“He’s in there,” I said to Ranger. “What on earth is wrong with Joe’s mom that she’d allow Sunny to hide out in her house?”

“He’s family,” Ranger said.

“That’s no excuse.”

“It is in the Sunucchi–Morelli family culture.”

“How am I supposed to get him out of there? I can’t just break down the door. We’re talking about Joe’s mom and crazy Grandma Bella.”

“Do you want me to go in?”

“Would you do that for me?”

“We could make a deal.”

“Oh boy.”

“Think about it,” Ranger said. “I’ll catch up with you after the viewing.”

I left Ranger and drove my loaner CR-V home to my apartment building. I’d watched Ranger’s eyes go from brown to black when he suggested a deal. I knew what it meant when his pupils dilated like that. It meant Ranger was feeling friendly. And when Ranger was friendly it was hard not to want to be friendly back.

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