Lean Mean Thirteen by Janet Evanovich Read Free Book Online

boobs pressed into his chest and my leg between his.
    "Whoops," I said, sliding my hand under his coat, dropping the bug into his pocket.
    "Sorry!"
    Smullen didn't blink. He just hung on to his Frappuccino as if this happened every morning. And maybe it did. There were a lot of people in the store. I took one step back and one step to the side to let Smullen get past me, and he inched his way toward the door and disappeared. I felt someone lean in to me from behind, and a coffee was placed in my hand.
    "Nice," Ranger said, guiding me out to the sidewalk. "I couldn't have gotten that close. And he wouldn't have been distracted by my chest."
    "I don't think he even noticed."
    "A man would have to be dead not to notice," Ranger said.
    "Morelli's worried I'll be involved in Dickie's disappearance. He said I should ask you for help."
    "He's a good man," Ranger said. "And you?" “I’m better." Lula WAS filing when I walked into the bonds office.
    "What s with this?" I asked.
    "Hunh," Lula said. "You act like I never do nothing. It's just I'm so efficient I get my work done before anyone notices. My name should be Flash. You ever see any files laying around?"
    "I assumed you were throwing them away."
    'Tour ass," Lula said.
    For a short time, we had a guy named Melvin Pickle doing our filing. Pickle was a filing dynamo. Unfortunately, he was so good he was able to get a better job. Les Sebring hired him to work in his bonds office, and Connie had to coerce Lula to take back filing responsibilities. Connie was carefully adding a topcoat to her nails. "Having any luck with the new batch of FTAs?"
    "No, but Milton Buzick is getting buried today. I'm waiting to get a jewelry report from Grandma."
    "If he got a Rolex on, I don't want to know," Lula said. "Two things I'm not doing. I'm not going back to that trailer, and I'm not sitting in no cemetery. Dead people creep me out."
    "What about Carl Coglin?" Connie asked. "He looks pretty straightforward. He has a small shop attached to his home."
    'Who's Carl Coglin?" Lula wanted to know.
    I pulled Carl's file out of my bag and flipped it open. "Sixty-four years old. Never married. Lives alone. His sister put up the bond. Accused of destruction of personal property. Doesn't go into detail. Lists his occupation as taxidermist."
    "Taxidermist," Lula said. "We never busted a taxidermist before. It could be fun." A half hour later, we were in North Trenton, standing in front of Coglin's house. This was a working-class neighborhood filled with people stretched too thin to plant flowers in the spring. Houses were neat but shabby. Cars were tired.
    Coglin lived in a redbrick single-family house with mustard trim. The paint was blistered and the wood around the windows had some rot. The front porch had been enclosed as an afterthought, and a small sign on the door advertised Coglin's taxidermy business.
    "Don't look to me like taxidermy pays real well," Lula said. A scrawny little guy answered my knock, and I knew from the picture on file that it was Coglin. Hair the color and texture of steel wool. Wire-rimmed glasses.
    "Carl Coglin?" I asked.
    "Yes."
    "I represent Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. You missed your court date last week, and I'd like to help you reschedule."
    "That's nice of you," Coglin said, "but I don't want to inconvenience you."
    "Its my job."
    "Oh," Coglin said. "Well, what does this rescheduling involve?"
    "You need to go to the courthouse and get rebonded."
    We were standing in Coglin's front-porch showroom, and it was hard not to notice the animals lining his walls.
    "Where's the mooseheads?" Lula asked Coglin. "I thought you taxidermy guys stuffed lions and tigers and shit. All I see is cats and dogs and pigeons."
    "This is urban taxidermy," Coglin said. "I restore pets and found objects."
    "What's a found object?" Lula wanted to know.
    "Treasure found in nature. For instance, if you were walking through the park and you found a deceased pigeon, that would be a found object. And