Two for the Dough (Stephanie Plum Series #2)by Janet Evanovich
Now Stephanie's back, armed with attitude -- not to mention stun guns, defense sprays, killer flashlights, and her trusty .38, Stephanie is after a new bail jumper,/i>
It's Stephanie Plum, New Jersey's "fugitive apprehension" agent (aka bounty hunter), introduced to the world by Janet Evanovich in the award-winning and bestselling novel One for the Money.
Now Stephanie's back, armed with attitude -- not to mention stun guns, defense sprays, killer flashlights, and her trusty .38, Stephanie is after a new bail jumper, Kenny Mancuso, a boy from Trenton's burg. He's fresh out of the army, suspiciously wealthy, and he's just shot his best friend.
With her bounty hunter pal Ranger stepping in occasionally to advise her, Stephanie staggers kneedeep in corpses and caskets as she traipses through back streets, dark alleys, and funeral parlors.
And nobody knows funeral parlors better than Stephanie's irrepressible Grandma Mazur, a lady whose favorite pastime is grabbing a front-row seat at a neighborhood wake. So Stephanie uses Grandma as a cover to follow leads, but loses control when Grandma warms to the action, packing a cool pistol. Much to the family's chagrin, Stephanie and Granny may soon have the elusive Kenny in their sights.
Fast-talking, slow-handed vice cop Joe Morelli joins in the case, since the prey happens to be his young cousin. And if the assignment calls for an automobile stakeout for two with the woman who puts his libido in overdrive, Morelli's not one to object.
Low on expertise but learning fast, high on resilience, and despite the help she gets from friends and relatives, Stephanie eventually must face the danger alone when embalmed body parts begin to arrive on her doorstep and she's targeted for a nasty death by the most loathsome adversary she's ever encountered. Another case like this and she'll be a real pro.
Two for the Dough is irresistible fun and powerful suspense entertainment from an acclaimed author who is already a national star.
“Stephanie Plum is a Jersey girl with Bette Midler's mouth and Cher's fashion sense.... With her pepper spray, stun gun, up-to-here hair, and out-to-there attitude…who could resist this doll?” The New York Times Book Review
“Stephanie's mouth is as smart as her wits…One for the Money was great fun; so's Two for the Dough.” The Orlando Sentinel (FL)
“If an epidemic of sore ribs sweeps across the country, the Centers for Disease Control will be able to trace it back to Janet Evanovich and Two for the Dough…. Get the book; read; enjoy. And watch out for the ribs.” The Washington Times
“While Evanovich's wry humor and quirky characters are reminiscent of Elmore Leonard, she puts a feminine spin on this inventive and fast-paced thriller, which places it in a class by itself.” The San Diego Union Tribune
“A winning adventure.” Library Journal
“[In] Two for the Dough…a truly gritty, ethnic, very complex Trenton, New Jersey, comes across beautifully.” Boston Sunday Globe
“Who could resist the USA original in Evanovich's sassy…Stephanie Plum? The less-than-perfect lady stirs up action and plenty of amusement with her wit and colorful circle of family and friends. Two for the Dough [is] a delight from the laugh-out-loud heavy-armor beauty parlor scene to the family dinner table and back onto the mean streets.” Mystery Lovers Bookshop
“The sharp repartee and Stephanie's slightly cynical but still fond relationship with her family and the burg hold a treasury of urban-style charms.” Publishers Weekly
Read an Excerpt
...Kitty and Eugene lived in a narrow row house at the corner of Baker and Rose, across from the old Milped Button Factory. The front door sat flush to the sidewalk without benefit of yard or porch. The exterior was maroon asphalt shingle with weathered white trim. Curtains were drawn in the front room. Upstairs windows were dark.
I had pepper spray easily accessible in my jacket pocket, and my cuffs and stun gun stuck into my Levis. I knocked on the door and heard scrambling going on inside. I knocked again, and a man's voice shouted something incoherent. Again, more shuffling sounds, and then the door opened.
A young woman peered out at me from behind a security chain. "Yes?"
"Are you Kitty Petras?"
"What do you want?"
"I'm looking for your husband, Eugene. Is he at home?"
"I heard a man's voice in there. I thought it sounded like Eugene."
Kitty Petras was rail thin with a pinched face and large brown eyes. She wore no makeup. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She wasn't pretty, but she wasn't unattractive either. Mostly, she was nothing. She had forgettable features that abused women get after years of trying to make themselves invisible.
She gave me a wary look. "You know Eugene?"
"I work for his bonding agent. Eugene missed his court date yesterday, and we'd like him to reschedule." Not so much a lie as a half-truth. First we'd reschedule him, and then we'd lock him up in a dingy, smelly cell until his new date came around.
"I don't know..."
Eugene reeled into my line of sight through the crack in the door. "What's going on?"
Kitty stepped away. "This woman would like you to reschedule your court date."
Eugene shoved his face up close. All nose and chin and squinty red eyes and 100-proof breath. "What?"
I repeated the baloney about rescheduling and moved to the side so he would be forced to open the door if he wanted to see me.
The chain slid free and clanked against the jamb. "You're shitting me, right?" Eugene said.
I positioned myself halfway into the door, adjusted my pocketbook on my shoulder, and lied my little heart out. "This will only take a few minutes. We need you to stop in at the courthouse and register for a new date."
"Yeah, well, you know what I have to say to that?" He turned his back to me, dropped his pants and bent over. "Kiss my hairy white ass."
He was facing in the wrong direction to give him a snootful of pepper spray, so I reached into my Levi's and pulled out the stun gun. I'd never used it, but it didn't seem complicated. I leaned foward, firmly pressed the gadget against Eugene's butt, and hit the go button. Eugene gave a short squeak and crumpled to the floor like a sack of flour.
"My God," Kitty cried, "what have you done?"
I looked down at Eugene, who was lying motionless, eyes glazed, drawers at his knees. He was breathing a little shallowly, but I thought this was to be expected from a man who'd just taked enough juice to light up a small room. His color was pasty white, so nothing had changed there. "Stun gun," I said. "According to the brochure it leaves no lasting damage."
"Too bad. I was hoping you'd killed him."
"Maybe you should fix his pants," I said to Kitty. There was already too much ugliness in this world without having to look at Eugene's Mr. Droopy.
Copyright © 1995 by Evanovich, Inc.
Meet the Author
Bestselling author Janet Evanovich is the recipient of the Crime Writers Association's John Creasy Memorial, Last Laugh, and Silver Dagger awards, as well as the Left Coast Crime's Lefty award, and is the two-time recipient of the Independent Mystery Booksellers Association's Dilys award. She lives in New Hampshire, where she is at work on her next Stephanie Plum adventure.
- Hanover, New Hampshire
- Date of Birth:
- April 22, 1943
- Place of Birth:
- South River, New Jersey
- B.A., Douglass College, 1965
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