11 Eleven On Top by Janet Evanovich Read Free Book Online Page A

a note on the drivers seat.
    “How'd that get in there?” Grandma wanted to know. “Don't you lock your car?”
    “I stopped locking it. I'm hoping someone will steal it.”
    Grandma took a good look at the car. “That makes sense.”
    We both got in and I read the note, your turn to burn, bitch.
    “Such language,” Grandma said. “I tell you the world's going to heck in a handbasket.”
    Grandma was upset about the language. I was upset about the threat. I wasn't exactly sure what it meant, but it didn't feel good. It was crazy and scary.
    Who was this person, anyway?
    I pulled away from the curb and headed for my parents' house.
    “I can't get that dumb note out of my head,” Grandma said when we were half a block from home. “I could swear I even smell smoke.”
    Now that she mentioned it...
    I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw flames licking up the backseat. I raced the half block to my parents' house, careened into the driveway, and jerked to a stop.
    “Get out,” I yelled. “The backseats on fire.”
    Grandma turned and looked. “Danged if it isn't.”
    I ran into the house, told my mother to call the fire department, grabbed the fire extinguisher that was kept in the kitchen under the sink, and ran back to the car. I broke the seal on the extinguisher and sprayed the flaming backseat. My father appeared with the garden hose and between the two of us we got the fire under control.
    A half hour later, the backseat of the Saturn was pronounced dead and flame free by the fire department. The fire truck rumbled away down the street, and the crowd of curious neighbors dispersed. The sun had set, but the Saturn could be seen in the ambient light from the house. Water dripped from the undercarriage and pooled on the cement driveway in grease-slicked puddles. The stench of cooked upholstery hung in the air.
    Morelli had arrived seconds behind the fire truck. He was now standing in my parents' front yard with his hands in his pockets, wearing his unreadable cop face.
    “So,” I said to him. “What's up?”
    “Where's the note?”
    “What note?”
    His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
    “How do you know there was a note?” I asked.
    “Just another one of those feelings.”
    I took the note from my pocket and handed it over.
    “Do you think this has something to do with the rat?” Grandma asked me. “Remember how Bella had that vision about the fire and the rat? And she said the rat was gonna get you. Well, I bet it was the rat that wrote the note and started the fire.”
    “Rats can't write,” I said.
    “What about human rats?” Grandma wanted to know. “What about big mutant human rats?”
    Morelli cut his eyes to me. “Do I want to know about this vision?”
    “No,” I told him. “And you also don't want to know about the fight in the funeral home between Bella and Grandma Mazur when Grandma tried to stop Bella from putting a curse on me for breaking your heart.”
    Morelli smiled. “I've always been her favorite.”
    “I didn't break your heart.”
    “Cupcake, you've been breaking my heart for as long as I've known you.”
    “How did you know about the fire?” I asked Morelli.
    “Dispatch called me. They always call me when your car explodes or goes up in flames.”
    “I'm surprised Ranger isn't here.”
    “He got me on my cell. I told him you were okay.”
    I moved closer to the Saturn and peered inside. Most of the water and fire damage was confined to the backseat.
    Morelli had his hand at the nape of my neck. “You're not thinking of driving this, are you?”
    “It doesn't look so bad. It probably runs fine.”
    “The backseat is completely gutted and there's a big hole in the floorboard.”
    “Yeah, but other than that it's okay, right?”
    Morelli looked at me for a couple beats. Probably trying to decide if this was worth a fight.
    “It's too dark to get a really good assessment of the damage,” he finally said. "Why don't we go home and come back in the morning and