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Top Secret Twenty-One

A Stephanie Plum Novel

Stephanie Plum novel Band 21

Stephanie Plum is getting desperate. She's running out of leads in the search for Jimmy Poletti, who was caught selling more than cars out of his New Jersey dealership. Even Joe Morelli, the city's hottest cop, is struggling to find the criminal wheeler and dealer. Stephanie's No. 1 temptation, Ranger, is also struggling. There's a killer in town with a personal vendetta against him. If Ranger wants to survive, he'll need Stephanie's help - and to reveal a piece of his mysterious past. Death threats, highly trained assassins and highly untrained assassins are all in a day's work for bounty hunter Stephanie Plum!
Rezension
"The combination of biting dialogue, outrageous characters and intense story lines are consistent throughout. And [Janet Evanovich] novels are the true definition of a guilty pleasure."-Associated Press

"Evanovich doesn't disappoint. . . . [She] weaves setting, family, romance and crime to pull the plot of Top Secret Twenty-One forward."-Bookreporter

From the Hardcover edition.
Portrait
Janet Evanovich, die mit jedem ihrer Romane in den USA einen Nummer-1-Bestseller landet, stammt aus South River, New Jersey, und lebt heute in New Hampshire. Die Autorin wurde von der Crime Writers Association mit dem 'Last Laugh Award' und dem 'Silver Dagger' ausgezeichnet und erhielt bereits zweimal den Krimipreis des Verbands der unabhängigen Buchhändler in den USA.
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  • One

    I was perched on a barstool in a dark, noisy, overpriced restaurant in Princeton, New Jersey. I was wearing a red dress that was too tight, too short, and cut way too low. And I was wearing an earbud that connected me to a guy named Ricardo Carlos Manoso, aka Ranger.

    My name is Stephanie Plum. I usually work as a bond enforcement agent for my cousin Vinnie, but tonight I was moonlighting as a lookout for Ranger. Ranger was stalking Emilio Gardi, a man many considered to be untouchable. Gardi had friends in high places, an army of thugs guarding his body, and money to burn, and his enemies tended to disappear without a trace. He was currently facing a racketeering charge in Miami, but he'd decided to keep his dinner date in Jersey rather than attend his court hearing in Dade County. This meant that the idiot who'd been dumb enough to post a bond for Gardi was out big money unless Gardi was dragged back to jail. The idiot happened to be Ranger's cousin.

    Ranger owns Rangeman, a small high-tech, high-end security firm. Ordinarily Ranger doesn't do bond enforcement, but tonight he was making an exception. He was standing off to the side at the entrance to the dining room, and he was watching Gardi.

    Gardi was wearing a tan sports jacket over a shirt with red and yellow flowers printed on it-the South Beach-meets-JCPenney look. He was in his fifties. He was balding. He was built like a fireplug. He was drinking red wine and eating rack of lamb, having a good time, entertaining three other men who were laughing too hard at his jokes.

    Ranger was in his usual black-a perfectly tailored black suit, and a black dress shirt open at the neck. The Glock at the small of his back was also black. Ranger's body is perfect. His hair is very dark brown. Cut short. His eyes are dark brown and intense. His skin is the color of hot chocolate, the lucky result of his Latino ancestry. His earbud matched his skin tone and was barely detectable.

    Standing beside Ranger was a guy named Tank. Tank is big and solid and lethal. He'd been with Ranger's unit in Special Forces, and now he's second in command at Rangeman and watches Ranger's back.

    I didn't see any of Gardi's henchmen. They'd waited for him to take his table and then left the room.

    "The room is clean," I said to Ranger via the earbud.

    Ranger moved forward, his gaze never wavering from his quarry. Eye of the tiger. I've seen him focus like this on other takedowns, and it always raises the hair on my arms and at the nape of my neck.

    Tank was steps behind him, surveying the rest of the room. Ranger unbuttoned his jacket to get better access to his gun and handcuffs. He stopped behind Gardi, put his hand on Gardi's shoulder, and said something to him, close to his ear.

    Gardi shrugged Ranger away, said something I couldn't hear, and everyone at the table laughed.

    Ranger didn't laugh, and even at a distance I knew things were about to get ugly. Ranger made another civil attempt, Gardi got angry and brushed him off, and in one swift move Ranger snatched Gardi out of his chair like a wolverine rooting out a groundhog.

    In a heartbeat Gardi's head was smashed onto the table, everyone grabbed their drinks, and Ranger cuffed Gardi behind his back and handed him over to Tank. Ranger told the table he was sorry for the intrusion and followed Tank and Gardi out of the room. The whole episode had taken maybe a minute.

    A Rangeman vehicle idled in front of the restaurant, ready to take Tank and Gardi back to Rangeman headquarters in center city Trenton. In the morning Gardi would be escorted onto a plane and extradited to Miami.

    My job done, I turned back to my black sambuca. Okay, I know they put food coloring in the sambuca to make it black. Don't care. It's sexy. And I swear the black tastes better. I guess I could also say that about Ranger. Not that he's my boyfriend or anything, but we have had a momen
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Beschreibung

Produktdetails

Einband Taschenbuch
Seitenzahl 352
Erscheinungsdatum 02.06.2015
Sprache Englisch
ISBN 978-0-345-54293-9
Verlag Random House LCC US
Maße (L/B/H) 17,5/10,8/3,5 cm
Gewicht 175 g
Verkaufsrang 1793
Buch (Taschenbuch, Englisch)
Buch (Taschenbuch, Englisch)
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