“We have better things to do than to hang here all day.” “You tell that weasel we want our money.”Ĭonnie gathered up the desk lamp pieces. “His door’s got a steel core,” Connie said. The round ricocheted off the door and took out Connie’s desk lamp. She took a silver-plated Glock out of her handbag and squeezed off a shot. Sally gave the door a good kick with her boot heel, but the door didn’t budge. You could ruin them doing something like that.” You don’t want to kick a door down wearing Louboutins. “Open this door or Sally is going to kick it in.” “I know you’re in there, Vinnie,” Zaretsky said. The three women sashayed over to Vinnie’s office, but before they reached his door I heard Vinnie throw the bolt to lock them out. Vinnie’s private lair is off to one side, and a large storeroom stretches across the back of the building. The bonds office consists of a reception area with Connie’s desk and some uncomfortable seating choices. Her hands were big enough to palm a basketball, and she had gym monkey muscles. She was tastefully dressed in a pale-yellow sheath dress and patent nude pumps. The bookie was almost seven feet tall in heels. She was a plump five-five with a lot of frizzy red hair, an abundance of boob, and legs like tree trunks. She was wearing a black bandage dress and spike-heeled black pumps. Her nails were creepy long and matched her lips. Madam Zaretsky had jet-black hair pulled back in a bun. The women got out of the car and marched into the office. He didn’t even care what sex that duck was.”

“She used to be a man,” Connie said, “but Vinnie stayed with her through the transition.” It’s hard to see who’s in the back seat, but it might be his bookie.” “Little Sally, his happy endings masseuse, is next to her. “Madam Zaretsky, Vinnie’s dominatrix, is driving,” Connie said.

“Do you know who’s in that car?” Lula asked Connie. It was a small car overstuffed with large women. We’re not sure exactly what Lula does, and we’ve never been able to come up with a title for her.Ĭonnie, Lula, and I were looking out the big plate glass window at a Chevy Bolt parked at the curb. My name is Stephanie Plum, and my official title is bond enforcement agent. It’s run by my cousin Vinnie and owned by his wiseguy father-in-law, Harry the Hammer. VINCENT PLUM BAIL Bonds is one of several storefront businesses on Hamilton Avenue in Trenton, New Jersey.

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