Chapter 9
Should she place the bombs as planned? Should she hide in the dark shadow with her knife and gun and wait? Where did Stephanie Plum go? Why isn't Stephanie Plum here? Why isn't Stephanie Plum on the narrow queen-size bed taking her usual nap? Is this a bad omen? Should she abort the mission, retreat, make another plan and wait for another day?
Emily Hasting frowns and quickly thinks. She has church choir practice at two o'clock and community volunteers meeting at three twenty-five(yes, she always arrives five minutes earlier to set out the iced tea she made and the cupcakes she baked. Everybody loves her cupcakes. They are always, always perfectly baked. And she makes the best iced tea. Ever). Emily proudly and modestly smiles. Yes, she knows she's a most amazing and talented woman. Yes, she knows she needs to find a way to vent all her rage, frustration and disappointment. She may be brave, pleasant and intelligent, but she's honestly no saint. However, she's never the kind of foolish shallow woman who makes hasty decisions when angered and then regrets when comes to her senses and finds out it's too late. Emily narrows her eyes. Elizabeth purses her lips. And together they evaluate the situation.
Stephanie Plum's car is still down there in the parking lot. Stephanie Plum's fake Gucci shoulder bag is right here on the couch. And she doesn't have any new stalkers. Maybe she went over to a neighbor's? Surely she didn't go far. Surely she will be back anytime. Surely they can wait for her to return...and kill her. Emily smiles. Elizabeth grins. And surely they are the best partners. Ever.
Joe Morelli taps his fingers on the wheel and hums along with the radio. The weather is perfect. The air is fresh. The blue sky reminds him of the six-year-old Stephanie's trusty eyes. And he's going to get laid. Yay. He likes his life. He enjoys his job. And he loves to look straight into people's(mostly his old friends and neighbors) eyes and tell them "I am a changed man now". It makes him feel like he's the king of the world, not the son of a notorious drunkard and child beater. He sings along as Nicki Minaj's Starships starts to play.
He likes Nicki Minaj. She's cute, sexy and hot. Whether her boobs are fake or not. He sings and smiles and suddenly remembers the fear and shock in Stephanie's eyes and the thrill and lust that rushed through his veins the moment he cuffed her to the shower curtain rod. He licks his lips. Sometimes he likes doing it quick. Sometimes he likes doing it rough. Sometimes he really believes he does love Stephanie Plum. And sometimes he can't help wishing she can be wilder in bed and her breasts can be larger. Joe Morelli turns his car into Stephanie's parking lot.
As large as Nicki Minaj's.
Emily Hasting frowns and quickly thinks. She has church choir practice at two o'clock and community volunteers meeting at three twenty-five(yes, she always arrives five minutes earlier to set out the iced tea she made and the cupcakes she baked. Everybody loves her cupcakes. They are always, always perfectly baked. And she makes the best iced tea. Ever). Emily proudly and modestly smiles. Yes, she knows she's a most amazing and talented woman. Yes, she knows she needs to find a way to vent all her rage, frustration and disappointment. She may be brave, pleasant and intelligent, but she's honestly no saint. However, she's never the kind of foolish shallow woman who makes hasty decisions when angered and then regrets when comes to her senses and finds out it's too late. Emily narrows her eyes. Elizabeth purses her lips. And together they evaluate the situation.
Stephanie Plum's car is still down there in the parking lot. Stephanie Plum's fake Gucci shoulder bag is right here on the couch. And she doesn't have any new stalkers. Maybe she went over to a neighbor's? Surely she didn't go far. Surely she will be back anytime. Surely they can wait for her to return...and kill her. Emily smiles. Elizabeth grins. And surely they are the best partners. Ever.
Joe Morelli taps his fingers on the wheel and hums along with the radio. The weather is perfect. The air is fresh. The blue sky reminds him of the six-year-old Stephanie's trusty eyes. And he's going to get laid. Yay. He likes his life. He enjoys his job. And he loves to look straight into people's(mostly his old friends and neighbors) eyes and tell them "I am a changed man now". It makes him feel like he's the king of the world, not the son of a notorious drunkard and child beater. He sings along as Nicki Minaj's Starships starts to play.
He likes Nicki Minaj. She's cute, sexy and hot. Whether her boobs are fake or not. He sings and smiles and suddenly remembers the fear and shock in Stephanie's eyes and the thrill and lust that rushed through his veins the moment he cuffed her to the shower curtain rod. He licks his lips. Sometimes he likes doing it quick. Sometimes he likes doing it rough. Sometimes he really believes he does love Stephanie Plum. And sometimes he can't help wishing she can be wilder in bed and her breasts can be larger. Joe Morelli turns his car into Stephanie's parking lot.
As large as Nicki Minaj's.
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