Janet Evanovich - Sizzling Sixteen

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

SIZZLING SIXTEEN. Copyright 2010 by Evanovich, Inc. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. For information, address St. Martins Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.stmartins.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Evanovich, Janet.

Sizzling sixteen / Janet Evanovich. 1st ed.

p. cm.

ISBN 978-0-312-38330-5

1. Plum, Stephanie (Fictitious character)Fiction. 2. Women bounty huntersFiction. 3. New JerseyFiction. I. Title.

PS3555.V2126S59 2010

813'.54dc22

2010018913

First Edition: June 2010

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Thanks to Laura A. Koppe for suggesting
the title for this book.

SIZZLING
SIXTEEN

ONE

MY UNCLE PIP died and left me his lucky bottle. I suppose Im fortunate, because he left my Grandma Mazur his false teeth. So Ive got this bottle now, and I dont exactly know what to do with it. Its not like I have a mantel. My name is Stephanie Plum, and I live in a bare-bones apartment on the outer edge of Trenton, New Jersey. I share the apartment with my hamster, Rex, and he doesnt know what to do with the bottle, either. The lucky bottle is the size and shape of a beer bottle. The glass is red, and it looks hand blown. Its not entirely ugly, especially if you like beer, but its also not exotically pretty. And so far, it hasnt been very lucky. I have the bottle sitting on my kitchen counter, between Rexs hamster cage and the brown bear cookie jar that holds my gun. It was Monday morning, halfway through June, and Lula was in my apartment doing a pity pick up because my hunk-of-junk car was dead and I needed a ride to work.

Hunh, Lula said. Whats that red bottle on your counter?

Its my lucky bottle.

Oh yeah, whats so lucky about it? It dont look too lucky to me. Looks like one of them designer beer bottles, only its got a fancy glass stopper in it.

Its my inheritance from Uncle Pip.

I remember Uncle Pip, Lula said. He was older than dirt, right? Had a big carbuncle on his forehead. He was the one wandered out of the senior complex a couple weeks ago during that thunderstorm, pissed on a downed electric wire, and electrocuted himself.

Yep. That was Uncle Pip.

Im a bond enforcement agent, working for my cousin Vinnie, and Lula is the office file clerk, wheelman, and fashion maven. Lula likes the challenge of fitting her plussize body into a size 8 poison green spandex miniskirt and leopard-print top, and somehow it all comes together for Lula. Lulas skin is milk chocolate, her hair this week is fire-engine red, and her attitude is pure Jersey.

Im a couple inches taller than Lula, and where her body is overly voluptuous, mine is more 34B. My idea of fashion is a girl-cut stretchy T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. My skin is nowhere near chocolate, my shoulder-length, naturally curly hair is plain ol brown and often pulled back into a ponytail, my eyes are blue, and Im still trying to find my attitude.

I hung my purse on my shoulder and pushed Lula to the door. We need to move. Connie called ten minutes ago, and she sounded frantic.

Whats with that? Lula said. Last time Connie was frantic was never.

Connie Rosolli is the bail bonds office manager. My heritage is half Italian and half Hungarian. Connie is Italian through and through. Connie is a couple years older than I am, has more hair than I do and a consistently better manicure. Her desk is strategically placed in front of Vinnies door, the better to slow down stiffed bookies, process servers, hookers with obviously active herpes, and a stream of perverted degenerates with quick-rich schemes hatched while under the influence of who-knows-what.

I live ten minutes from the office on a day without traffic. This wasnt one of those days, and it took Lula twenty minutes to get her red Firebird down Hamilton Avenue. Vinnies bail bonds business is located on Hamilton, just up from the hospital and between a dry cleaner and a used-book store. Theres a front room with large plateglass windows, an inner office where Vinnie hides, a row of file cabinets, and behind the file cabinets is storage for everything from guns and ammo to George Foreman grills held hostage until some poor burger-loving slob comes up to trial.

Lula parked at the curb, and we pushed through the door into the front room. Lula plunked herself down on the brown fake-leather couch that was positioned against the wall, and I settled into an orange plastic chair in front of Connies desk. The door to Vinnies office was open, but there was no Vinnie.

Whats up? I asked Connie.

Mickey Gritch snatched Vinnie. Last night, he caught Vinnie in a compromising position, pants down on Stark Street, on the corner of Stark and Thirteenth. And from what Ive pieced together, Gritch and two of his boys dragged Vinnie at gunpoint into the back of a Cadillac Escalade and took off.

I know that corner, Lula said. Thats Maureen Browns corner. Maureen and me used to hang out back when I was a ho. She wasnt as good a ho as me, but she wasnt no skank ho, either.

Lula worked Stark Street prior to her job as file clerk. She had a rocky beginning, but shes getting herself together, and I suspect someday shell be the governor of New Jersey.

Anyway, I guess Vinnie had a run of bad luck at the track, and now he owes Mickey $786,000, Connie said.

Whoa, Lula said. Thats a lot of money.

Some of its interest, Connie told her. The interest might be negotiable.

Mickey Gritch has been Vinnies bookie for as long as I can remember, and this isnt the first time Vinnies owed money, but I dont recall him ever owing this much.

Mickey Gritch works for Bobby Sunflower now, Lula said. You dont want to mess with Bobby.

Is this serious? I asked Connie.

Times are tough, and Mickey wants his money, Connie said. Too many people stiffing him, so theyre going to make an example of Vinnie. If Vinnie doesnt come up with the money by the end of the week, theyre going to kill him.

Bobby Sunflower would do it, Lula said. He made Jimmie Sanches disappear .. permanently. Lots of other people, too, from what I hear.

Have you gone to the police? I asked Connie.

The police arent my first choice. Vinnie owes this guy for illegal gambling. Knowing Vinnie, its possible some of the money came out of the business. We used to be owned by Vinnies father-in-law, you know, but last year we were sold to a venture capital company based in Trenton. The venture capitalists arent going to tolerate Vinnies gambling with their money. If this gets out, we could all be out of a job.

What about the father-in-law? Lula asked. Everyone knows he got a lot of money. Plus, he could squeeze Bobby Sunflower.

Vinnies father-in-law is Harry the Hammer. As long as Vinnie does right by Harrys daughter Lucille, its all good, but I suspect Harry wouldnt be happy to hear Vinnie got snatched while he was boffing a Stark Street ho.