Top Secret Twenty-One by Janet Evanovich Read Free Book Online Page B

go?”
    “As expected,” I said. “He knows nothing. He wasn’t involved. He thinks Jimmy’s gone postal.”
    “Do you think all that’s true?” Lula asked.
    “I don’t think
any
of it is true,” I said.
    “I think the part about Jimmy going postal is true,” Briggs said.
    I called Connie and asked her to do some snooping on Pepper Trucking. Was Silvio Pepper the sole owner? Where were the trucks kept when they were in town? What did the trucks haul?
    I disconnected, then scanned Ron Siglowski’s background report. He was seventy years old and widowed. No children. He’d sold his insurance business five years ago and moved into a golf course community in Cranbury. His credit check didn’t turn up any recent airline tickets. No new withdrawals from his bank account. No new action on his credit cards. So either he was being smart and not leaving a trail, or else he was dead. I had no gut feeling either way.
    The next stop was Pepper’s house. I knew a lot of people in the Burg, but I didn’t know Miriam Pepper. I left Lula andBriggs in the car and went to the door. Miriam answered the bell in a fuzzy pink bathrobe. She was in her sixties. She had short brown hair streaked with gray. She was chubby and rosy-cheeked. And the drink in her hand looked like Coke but smelled like hundred proof.
    “You must be Stephanie Plum,” she said. “Silvio called and said you might be stopping by. He said I shouldn’t talk to you because goodness knows what I might say.”
    It was eleven o’clock and the woman was in her bathrobe, getting cozy with Jim Beam. How lucky was this?
    “You seem like an intelligent woman,” I said. “I’m sure you wouldn’t say anything inappropriate.”
    “Thank you. I’m very discreet.”
    “And that’s a lovely pink bathrobe.”
    “Pink is my favorite color. It’s a happy color.”
    “That’s so true. And I can see that you’re a happy person.”
    “Especially when I have a little nip of something.” She leaned forward and whispered at me. “Actually, I’m an alcoholic. Would you like a Manhattan? I make an excellent Manhattan.”
    “Thanks, but no. It’s early for me.”
    “I like to get a head start on the day.”
    “I wanted to ask you about Jimmy Poletti.”
    Miriam knocked back some Manhattan. “He’s a pig.”
    “In what way?”
    “He’s a man. Isn’t that enough?”
    “I was hoping you could be more specific.”
    “Well, there’s his wife.”
    “Yes?”
    “She’s thin.”
    “I know,” I said. “I’ve met her.”
    “How am I supposed to compete with that?”
    “I’m sure Silvio loves you just the way you are.”
    “Who?”
    “Silvio. Your husband.”
    She did a major eye roll. “
Him!
All he thinks about is that trucking company. I’ve had it up to here with that trucking company.”
    “What sort of stuff does he haul?”
    “He has a contract with a plant in Mexico that makes salsa and a plant in Newark that makes the containers. He carts the containers to Mexico and comes back with them full of salsa.”
    Okay, now I’m getting somewhere. Another Mexican tie-in.
    “Does he ever haul anything other than salsa?” I asked.
    “I only know about the salsa. I’ve got a garage filled with five-gallon cans of the stuff. What the heck am I supposed to do with it all? I mean, do they pay him in salsa?”
    “Did he ever haul anything for Jimmy?”
    She stared into her whiskey glass. “It’s empty,” she said. “I hate when that happens.”
    “About Jimmy.”
    “Boy, I could use a cigarette,” she said. “Do you have any cigarettes on you?”
    “No. Sorry. I don’t smoke.”
    “Xanax?”
    “No.”
    “Cupcakes?”
    Standing just inside the front door, I saw a car pull into the driveway. Silvio.
    I gave Miriam my card. “Call me if you want to talk.”
    “Sure,” she said, “but you have to bring cupcakes.”
    I passed Silvio on the sidewalk.
    “Your wife is lovely,” I said. “You’re a lucky man.”
    “Yeah,” he said.