Hard Eight

Shit.

I released the brake, put the Buick in gear, and took off, through the red light. The rabbit was close behind. I turned at Chambers Street and ran up and down streets until I slid to a stop in front of Morelli’s house. I saw no lights behind me, but that didn’t guarantee that the rabbit was gone. He could have cut his lights and parked. I jumped out of the Buick, ran to Morelli’s front door, and rang the bell, then I pounded on the door, and then I yelled, “Open up!”

Morelli opened the door, and I jumped inside. “The rabbit is after me,” I said. Morelli stuck his head out and looked up and down the street. “I don’t see any rabbits.”

“He was in a car. He rear-ended me on Hamilton, and then he chased me here.”

“What kind of car?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t see in the dark. I could just see his ears sticking up over the wheel.” My heart was racing, and I was having a hard time catching my breath. “I’m losing it,” I said. “This guy’s really pushing my buttons. A rabbit, for crissake! What kind of a mind would think to have me stalked by a rabbit?”

Of course, while I was ranting on about the rabbit and the diabolical mind, I was remembering that it was partially my fault. I was the one who told Abruzzi I liked bunnies.

“We didn’t advertise the fact that a rabbit was involved in the Soder murder, so chances of it being a copycat are slim,” Morelli said. “If we’re going on the assumption that Abruzzi is behind this, then the mind in question is pretty sharp. Abruzzi isn’t known for being stupid.”

“Just crazy?”

“As crazy as they come. From what I hear, he collects memorabilia and then wears it when he’s war gaming. Dresses himself up like Napoleon.”

The idea of Abruzzi dressed up like Napoleon got me smiling. He would look ridiculous, second only to the guy in the rabbit suit.

“The rabbit must have been following me from my parents’ house,” I said to Morelli.

“Where did you go when you left here?”

“I went to buy Monopoly. I got the old-fashioned traditional Monopoly. And I’m going to be the race car.”

Morelli took Bob’s leash off a hook in the hall and grabbed a jacket. “I’ll go back with you, but you have to relinquish the race car to me if Grandma plays. It’s the least you can do for me.”

**********************

AT FOUR O’CLOCK I woke up with a start. I was on the couch with Morelli. I’d fallen asleep, sitting up with his arm around me. I’d lost two games of Monopoly, and we’d turned to television. The television was off now, and Morelli was slouched back with his gun on the coffee table next to his cell phone. Lights were off with the exception of the overhead light in the kitchen. Bob was sound asleep on the floor.

“Someone’s out there,” Morelli said. “I called for a car.”

“Is it the rabbit?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to go to the window and frighten whoever it is away until backup gets here. They tried the door once, then walked around back and tried that door.”

“I don’t hear any sirens.”

“They won’t come with sirens,” he whispered. “I got Mickey Lauder. I told him to come in an unmarked car and come in on foot.”

There was a muffled crash from the back of the house, and a lot of shouting. Morelli and I ran to the back and flipped the porch light on. Mickey Lauder and two uniforms had two people down on the ground.

“Christ,” Morelli said, grinning. “It’s your sister and Albert Kloughn.”

Mickey Lauder was grinning, too. He’d dated Valerie in high school. “Sorry,” he said, hauling her to her feet, “I didn’t recognize you at first. You’ve changed your hair.”

“Are you married?” Valerie asked.

“Yeah. Big time. I’ve got four kids.”

“Just curious,” Valerie said on a sigh.

Kloughn was still on the ground. “I’m pretty sure she didn’t do anything illegal,” he said.

“She couldn’t get in. The doors were locked, and she didn’t want to wake anybody. It wouldn’t have been breaking and entering, right? You can break into your own house, right? I mean, that’s what you have to do if you forget your key, right?”

“I saw you go to bed with the kids,” I said to Valerie. “How’d you get out here?”

“The same way you used to sneak out when you were in high school,” Morelli said, the grin getting wider. “Out the bathroom window to the back porch roof and then down to the garbage can.”

“You must be really hot stuff, Kloughn,” Lauder said, still enjoying it. “I could never get her to sneak out for me.”

“I don’t like to brag or anything,” Kloughn said, “but I know what I’m doing.”

Grandma came up behind me in her bathrobe. “What’s going on?”

“Valerie got busted.”

“No kidding?” Grandma said. “Good for her.”

Morelli shoved his gun under the waistband of his jeans. “I’m going to get my jacket and have Lauder drop me off at home. You’ll be okay now. Grandma can stay up with you. Sorry about Monopoly, but you’re a really lousy player.”

“I let you win because you were doing me a favor.”

“Yeah, right.”

**********************

“I HATE TO interrupt your breakfast,” Grandma said to me, “but there’s a great big, scary-looking guy at the door, and he wants to talk to you. He said he’s delivering a car.”

That would be Tank.

I went to the door, and Tank handed me a set of keys. I looked beyond him, to the curb. Ranger had given me a new black CR-V. Very much like the car that had gotten blown up. I knew from past experience it would be upgraded in every way possible. And probably it had a tracking device stuck in a place I’d never think to look. Ranger liked to keep tabs on his cars and his people. A new black Land Rover with a driver waited behind the CR-V.

“This is for you, too,” Tank said, giving me a cell phone. “It’s programmed with your number.”

And he was gone.

Grandma looked after him. “Was he from the rental car company?”

“Sort of.”

I returned to the kitchen and drank my coffee while I checked the answering machine in my apartment. I had two calls from my insurance company. The first told me I would be receiving forms by priority mail. The second told me I was canceled. There were three calls of nothing but breathing. I assumed this was the rabbit. The last message was from Evelyn’s neighbor, Carol Nadich.

“Hey, Steph,” she said. “I haven’t seen Evelyn or Annie, but something funny is going on here. Give me a call when you get a chance.”

“I’m going out,” I said to my mother and grandmother. “And I’m taking my stuff. I’m going to stay with a friend for a couple days. I’m leaving Rex here.”

My mother looked up from cutting soup vegetables. “You aren’t moving in with Joe Morelli again, are you?” she asked. “I don’t know what to tell people. What do I say?”

“I’m not staying with Morelli. Don’t tell people anything. There’s nothing to tell. If you need to talk to me, you can reach me on my cell phone.” I stopped at the door. “Morelli says you should have a security chain put on the doors. He said they’re not safe this way.”

“What would happen?” my mother said. “We have nothing to steal. This is a respectable neighborhood. Nothing ever happens here.”

I carted my bag out to the car, tossed it onto the backseat, and climbed behind the wheel. Better to talk to Carol in person. It took less than two minutes to get to her house. I parked and did a survey of the street. Everything looked normal. I knocked once, and she answered her door.

“Quiet street,” I said. “Where is everybody?”

“Soccer games. Every dad and every kid on this street goes to soccer on Saturday.”

“So what’s weird?”

“Do you know the Pagarellis?”

I shook my head, no.

“They live next door to Betty Lando. Moved in about six months ago. Old Mr. Pagarelli sits out on the porch all the time. He’s a widow, living with his son and daughter-in-law. And the daughter-in-law won’t let the old guy smoke in the house, so he’s always out on the porch. Anyway, Betty said she was talking to him the other day, and he was bragging about how he was working for Eddie Abruzzi. He told Betty that Abruzzi pays him to watch my house. Is that creepy, or what? I mean, what’s it to him that Evelyn took off? I don’t see what the problem is as long as she makes her rent payment.”

“Anything else?”

“Evelyn’s car is parked in the driveway. It showed up this morning.”

That took some of the wind out of my sails. Stephanie Plum, master detective. I’d driven past Evelyn’s car and never noticed. “Did you hear it drive up? Did you see anyone?”

“Nope. Lenny discovered it. He went out for the paper, and he noticed Evelyn’s car was here.”

“Do you ever hear anyone next door?”

“Only you.”

I did a grimace.

“In the beginning there were lots of people looking for Evelyn,” Carol said. “Soder and his friends. And Abruzzi. Soder would just walk into the house. I guess he had a key. Abruzzi, too.”

I looked over at Evelyn’s front door. “You don’t suppose Evelyn’s in there now?”

“I knocked on the door, and I looked in the back window, and I didn’t see anyone.”

I moved from Carol’s porch to Evelyn’s porch, and Carol tagged along behind me. I knocked on the door, hard. I put my ear to the front window. I shrugged my shoulders.

“Nothing going on in there,” Carol said. “Right?”

We walked to the back of the house and looked in the kitchen window. As far as I could tell, nothing had been touched. I tried the knob. Still locked. Too bad the window was repaired, I would have liked to get inside. I did another shrug.

Carol and I walked over to the car. We stood four feet away.

“I didn’t look in the car,” Carol said.

“We should do that,” I told her.

“You first,” she said.

I sucked in some air and took two giant steps forward. I looked in the car and blew out a sigh of relief. No dead people. No body parts. No rabbits. Although, now that I was closer, the car didn’t smell all that terrific.

“Maybe we should call the police,” I said.

There have been times in my life when curiosity has pushed aside common sense. This wasn’t one of them. The car was sitting in the driveway, unlocked, with the keys dangling in the ignition. It would have been easy for me to pop the trunk and peek inside, but I had no desire to do this. I was pretty sure I knew the reason for the odor. Finding Soder on my couch had been traumatic enough. I didn’t want to be the one to find Evelyn or Annie in the trunk of Evelyn’s car.

Carol and I sat huddled together on her porch while we waited for the blue-and-white. Neither of us was willing to articulate our thoughts. It was too awful to speculate aloud. I stood when the police arrived, but I didn’t leave the porch. There were two patrol cars. Costanza was in one of them.

“You’re looking white,” Costanza said to me. “Do you feel okay?”

I nodded my head. I was afraid to trust my voice.

Big Dog was at the trunk. He had it open, and he was standing hands on hips. “You gotta see this,” he said to Costanza.

Costanza walked over and stood next to Big Dog. “Cripes.”

Carol and I were holding hands for support. “Tell me,” I said to Costanza.

“You sure you want to know?”

I nodded my head yes.

“It’s a dead guy in a bear suit.”

The world stood still for a moment. “It’s not Evelyn or Annie?”

“No. I’m telling you, it’s a dead guy in a bear suit. Come look for yourself.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Your grandma’s gonna be real disappointed if you don’t look at this. Not every day you see a dead guy in a bear suit.”

The EMTs rolled in and a couple unmarked cars followed close behind. Costanza stretched some tape around the crime scene.

Morelli parked across the street and strolled over. He looked in the trunk, and then he looked at me. “It’s a dead guy in a bear suit.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“Your grandma’s never going to forgive you if you don’t take a look at this.”

“Do I really want to look at it?”

Morelli studied the body in the trunk. “No, probably not.” He walked over to me. “Who owns the car?”

“Evelyn, but nobody’s seen her. Carol said the car showed up this morning. Did you draw this case?”

“Nope,” Morelli said. “This is Benny’s. I’m just sight-seeing. Bob and I were on our way to the park when I heard the call go out.”

I could see Bob watching us from the truck. He had his nose pressed to the window, and he was panting.

“I’m okay,” I said to Morelli. “I’ll call you when I’m done here.”

“You have a phone?”

“It came with the CR-V.”

Morelli looked at the car. “Rental?”

“Sort of.”

“Shit, Stephanie, you didn’t get that car from Ranger, did you? No, wait a minute.” He held his hands up. “I don’t want to know.” He looked sideways at me. “Did you ever ask him where he gets all these cars?”

“He said he’d tell me, but then he’d have to kill me.”

“Did you ever stop to think he might not be kidding?” He got into his truck, buckled himself in, and cranked the engine over.

“Who’s Bob?” Carol asked.

“Bob’s the one who’s sitting in the truck, panting.”

“I’d be panting, too, if I was in Morelli’s truck,” Carol said.

Benny came over with his pad in his hand. He was in his early forties and probably thinking about retirement in the next couple years. Probably a case like this made retirement even more appealing. I didn’t know Benny personally, but I’d heard Morelli talk about him from time to time. From what I heard, he was a good steady cop.

“I need to ask you some questions,” Benny said.

I was getting to know these questions by heart.

I sat on the porch with my back to the car. I didn’t want to see them haul the guy out of the trunk. Benny sat across from me. I could look beyond Benny and see old Mr. Pagarelli watching us. I wondered if Abruzzi was watching, too.

“You know what?” I said to Benny. “This is getting old.”

He looked apologetic. “I’m almost done.”

“Not you. This. The bear, the rabbit, the couch, everything.”

“Have you ever thought about getting a different job?”

“Every minute of every day.” But then, sometimes the job had its moments. “I have to go,” I said. “Things to do.”

Benny closed his little cop notebook. “Be careful.”

That’s exactly what I wasn’t going to do. I hopped into the CR-V and eased around the emergency vehicles blocking the road. It wasn’t quite noon. Lula should still be in the office. I needed to talk to Abruzzi, and I was too chicken to do it all by myself. I parked at the curb and barreled through the office door. “I want to talk to Eddie Abruzzi,” I said to Connie. “Do you have any idea where I might find him?”

“He has an office downtown. I don’t know if he’ll be there on a Saturday.”

“I know where you can find him,” Vinnie yelled from his inner sanctum. “He’ll be at the track. He goes to the track every Saturday, rain or shine, as long as the horses are running.”

“Monmouth?” I asked.

“Yeah, Monmouth. He’ll be on the rail.”

I looked over at Lula. “Do you feel like going to the track?”

“Hell, yeah. I feel lucky. I might do some betting. My horoscope said I was gonna make good decisions today. Only thing, you want to be careful. Your horoscope sucked.”

This didn’t surprise me.

“I see you’re driving a new car already,” Lula said. “Rental?”

I pressed my lips together.

Lula and Connie exchanged knowing glances.

“Girl, you’re gonna pay for that car,” Lula said. “And I want to know all the details. You better take notes.”

“I want measurements,” Connie said.

**********************

IT WAS A nice day and the traffic was steady. We were going in the general direction of the shore, and lucky for us, it wasn’t July because in July the road would be a parking lot.

“Your horoscope didn’t say anything about making good decisions,” Lula said. “So I think I’m the one who should be deciding things today. And I’m deciding we should play the ponies and stay far away from Abruzzi. What do you want to talk to him about anyway? What are you going to say to the man?”

“I don’t have it totally worked out, but it’ll be along the lines of ‘fuck off.’ ”

“Uh-oh,” Lula said. “That don’t sound like a good decision to me.”

“Benito Ramirez fed off fear. I have a feeling Abruzzi is like that, too. I want him to know it’s not working.” And I want to know what he’s after. I want to know why Evelyn and Annie are important to him.

“Benito Ramirez didn’t only feed off fear,” Lula said. “That was just the first part. That was foreplay. Ramirez liked to hurt people. And he’d hurt you until you were dead… or wished you were dead.”

I thought about that for the forty minutes it took me to get to the track. The awful part is that I knew it to be true. I knew firsthand. I was the one who discovered Lula after Ramirez was done with her. Finding Steven Soder was a walk in the park compared to finding Lula.

“This is my idea of work,” Lula said when I pulled into the lot. “Not everybody’s got a good job like us. Sure, we get shot at once in a while, but look here, we’re not stuck in some crummy office building today.”

“Today is Saturday,” I said. “Most people aren’t working at all.”

“Well, yeah,” Lula said. “But we could do this on a Wednesday if we wanted.”

My cell phone chirped.

“Put ten dollars to win on Roger Dodger in the fifth,” Ranger said. And he disconnected.

“Well?” Lula asked.

“Ranger. He wants me to bet ten dollars on Roger Dodger in the fifth.”

“Did you tell him we were going to the track?”

“No.”

“How’s he do that?” Lula asked. “How’s he know where we are? I’m telling you, he’s not human. He’s from space or something.”

We looked around to see if we were being followed. I hadn’t thought to look for a tail on the way down. “Probably he has the car monitored,” I said. “Like OnStar, but his system reports to the Bat Cave.”

We followed a tidal wave of people through the gate, into the belly of the grandstand. The first race had just been run and the smell of nervous sweat was already permeating the ticket area. The air was thick with collective angst and hope and the frenzied energy that boils at a track.

Lula’s eyes were rolling in her head, not sure where to go first, hearing the conflicting call of nachos, beer, and the five-dollar window.

“We need a racing sheet,” she said. “How much time do we got? I don’t want to miss this race. There’s a horse named Decision Maker. That’s a sign from God. First my horoscope and then this. I was meant to come here today and bet on this horse. Outta my way. You’re getting in my way.”

I stood in the middle of the floor and waited for Lula to place her bet. All around me people were talking horses and jockeys, living in the moment, enjoying the diversion. I, on the other hand, wasn’t allowed the diversion. I couldn’t get my mind off Abruzzi. I was being stalked. My emotions were being manipulated. My security was threatened. And I was angry. I was up to here with it. Lula was absolutely right about Benito Ramirez and his sadistic cruelty. And she was probably right that talking to Abruzzi was a bad idea. But I was going to do it anyway. I couldn’t help myself. Of course, I had to find him first. And that wasn’t going to be as easy as I originally thought. I’d forgotten how big the area was at the rail, how many people congregated there.

The bell sounded to close the windows, and Lula rushed over to me. “I got it. I just got it in time. We got to hurry up and get seats. I don’t want to miss this. I just know this horse is going to win. He’s a long shot, too. We’re going out to dinner tonight. I’m treating.”

We found seats in the grandstand and watched the horses come in. If I’d had my own CR-V there would have been minibinoculars in the glove compartment. Unfortunately, the minibinoculars were now a melted glob of glass and slag, probably compressed to the thickness of a dime.

I systematically worked my way through the crowd at the rail, trying to find Abruzzi. The horses took off, and the crowd surged forward, shouting, waving programs. It was impossible to see anything other than a blur of color. Lula was screaming and jumping up and down next to me.

“Go, you motherfucker,” she was yelling. “Go, go, go, you dumb sonovabitch!”

I wasn’t sure what to wish for. I wanted her to win, but I was afraid if she won, she’d be impossible with the horoscope stuff.

The horses streaked across the finish line, and Lula was still jumping. “Yes,” she was screaming. “Yes, yes, yes!”

I looked over at her. “You won, right?”

“You bet your ass I won. I won big. Twenty to one. I must have been the only genius in this whole freaking place who bet on that four-legged wonder. I’m going to get my money. Are you coming with me?”

“No. I’m going to wait here. I want to look for Abruzzi now that the crowd is thinning.”

13

PART OF THE problem was that I was seeing everyone at the rail from the back. Difficult enough to recognize someone you know intimately this way. Almost impossible to recognize someone you’ve only seen briefly on two occasions.

Lula plunked down into the seat next to me. “You’re not going to believe this,” she said.

“I just looked into the eyes of the devil.” She had her ticket clutched tight in her hand, and she made the sign of the cross. “Holy mother of God. Look here. I’m crossing myself. What’s with that? I’m Baptist. Baptist don’t do this cross shit.”

“Eyes of the devil?” I asked.

“Abruzzi. I ran right into Abruzzi. I was coming from collecting my money, and I just placed my bet, and I bumped right into him like it was destiny. He looked down at me, and I looked into those eyes, and I almost messed my pants. It’s like all my blood turns cold when I look into those eyes.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No. He smiled at me. It was awful. It was that smile that’s just a slash in his face and doesn’t go to his eyes. And then calm as anything, he turned around and walked away.”

“Was he alone? What was he wearing?”

“He was with that Darrow guy again. I think Darrow must be muscle. And I don’t know what he was wearing. It’s like my brain gets paralyzed when I get five feet from Abruzzi. I just get sucked into those creepy eyes.” Lula gave a shiver. “Yeesh,” she said. At least I knew Abruzzi was here. And I knew he was with Darrow. I started working my way through the rail crowd again. I was beginning to recognize people. They tended to go away to bet, but then they gravitated back to their favorite spot on the rail. They were Jersey people, the younger guys dressed in T-shirts and khakis and jeans, the older guys wearing Sansabelt polyester slacks and three-button knit golf shirts. Their faces were animated. Jersey doesn’t hold much back. And their bodies were padded with a good protective layer of deep-fried fish and sausage sandwich fat. From the corner of my eye I saw Lula make the sign of the cross again. Lula caught me looking at her. “It’s a comfort,” Lula said. “I think the Catholics might have hit on something here.”

The third race started, and Lula rocketed out of her seat. “Go, Ladies’ Choice,” she screamed. “Ladies’ Choice! Ladies’ Choice!”

Ladies’ Choice won by a nose, and Lula looked stunned. “I won again,” she said.

“There’s something wrong here. I never win.”

“Why did you pick Ladies’ Choice?”

“It was the obvious one. I’m a lady. And I had to make a choice.”

“You think you’re a lady?”

“Fuckin‘ A,” Lula said.

This time, I followed her out of the grandstand to the window. She was moving carefully, looking around, trying to avoid another meeting with Abruzzi. I was looking around for the opposite reason.

Lula stopped and went rigid. “There he is,” she said. “Over there at the fifty-dollar window.”

I saw him, too. He was third in line. Darrow was behind him. I could feel every muscle in my body go into contraction. It was like I was squinting from my eyeballs clear down to my sphincter.

I marched over and got right up into Abruzzi’s face. “Hey,” I said, “remember me?”

“Of course,” Abruzzi said. “I have your picture in a frame on my desk. Do you know you sleep with your mouth open? It’s actually very sensuous.”

I went still, hoping not to show emotion. Truth is, he knocked the air out of my lungs. And he sent a stab of revulsion into me that sickened my stomach. I’d expected he’d say something about the photos. I hadn’t expected this. “I guess you need to pull these idiot pranks to compensate for the fact that you’re not having any success at locating Evelyn,”

I said. “She’s got something you want and you can’t get your hands on it, can you?”

Now it was Abruzzi’s turn to go still. For a single terrifying moment I thought he was going to hit me. Then his composure returned, and the blood rushed back into his face.

“You’re a stupid little bitch,” he said.

“Yep,” I said. “And I’m your worst nightmare.” Okay, it was sort of a hokey movie line, but I’ve always wanted to say it. “And I’m not impressed with the rabbit thing. It was clever the first time when you carted Soder into my apartment, but it’s getting tired.”

“You said you liked bunnies,” Abruzzi said. “Don’t you like them anymore?”

“Get a life,” I said. “Find yourself a new hobby.”

And I turned on my heel and stalked off.

Lula was waiting at the mouth of the tunnel that led to our seats. “What’d you say to him?”

“I told him to let it ride on Peaches’ Dream in the fourth.”

“The hell you did,” Lula said. “Not often you see a man turn white like that.”

By the time I got to my seat my knees were knocking together, and my hands were shaking so bad I was having a hard time hanging onto my program.

“Jeez,” Lula said, “you aren’t having a heart attack or anything, are you?”

“I’m okay,” I said. “It’s the excitement of the horse racing.”

“Yeah, I figured that was it.”

A hysterical giggle escaped from my mouth. “It’s not like Abruzzi scares me.”

“Sure, I know that,” Lula said. “Nothing scares you. You’re a big badass bounty hunter.”

“Damn right,” I said. And then I concentrated on not hyperventilating.

**********************

“WE SHOULD DO this more often,” Lula said, getting out of my car, unlocking the Trans Am.

She was parked on the street in front of the office. The office was closed, but the new bookstore in the house next door was open. Lights were on, and I could see Maggie Mason unpacking boxes in the window.

“I had a setback in the last race,” Lula said, “but aside from that I had a very good day. I just let it ride. Next time we could go to Freehold, and then we don’t have to worry about running into you know who.”

Lula drove off, but I stayed. I was like Evelyn now. On the run. No place safe to settle. For lack of something better, I went to the movies. Halfway through the movie I got up and left. I got into my car, and I went home. I parked in the lot, and I didn’t allow myself to hesitate behind the wheel. I got out of the CR-V, beeped it locked, and walked straight to the back door that led to the lobby. I took the elevator to the second floor, marched down the hall, and unlocked the door to my apartment. I took a deep breath and stepped inside. It was very quiet. And dark.

I flipped the lights on… every single light I owned. I walked room to room, avoiding the cootie couch. I went back to the kitchen, removed six cookies from the bag of frozen chocolate chip cookies, and put them on a cookie sheet. I popped them into the oven and stood there, waiting. Five minutes later, the house smelled like homemade cookies. Bolstered by cookie fumes, I marched into the living room and looked at the couch. The couch looked fine. No stains. No dead body imprint.

You see, Stephanie, I said to myself. The couch is okay. No reason to be creeped out by the couch.

Hah! An invisible Irma whispered in my ear. Everyone knows you can’t see death cooties. Take my word for it, that couch has the biggest, fattest death cooties that ever existed. That couch has the mother of all death cooties.

I tried to sit on the couch but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Soder and the couch were fixed together in my mind. Sitting on the couch was like sitting on Soder’s dead, sawedin-half lap. The apartment was too small for both me and the couch. One of us was going to have to go.

“Sorry,” I said to the couch. “Nothing personal, but you’re history.” I put my weight behind one end, and I pushed the couch across the living room, into the small entrance foyer in front of the kitchen, out the front door, and into the hall. I positioned it against the wall between my apartment and Mrs. Karwatt’s apartment. Then I ran back into my apartment, closed my door, and did a sigh. I knew there were no such things as death cooties. Unfortunately, that’s an intellectual fact. And death cooties are an emotional reality.

I took the cookies out of the oven, put them on a plate, and carted them off to the living room. I zapped the television on and found a movie. Irma hadn’t said anything about death cooties on the remote, so I assumed death cooties didn’t stick to electronic devices. I pulled a dining room chair over to the television, ate two of the cookies, and watched the movie.

Halfway through the movie, the doorbell rang. It was Ranger. Dressed in his usual black. Full utility belt, looking like Rambo. Hair tied back. He stood there in silence when I opened the door. The corners of his mouth tipped slightly into the promise of a smile.

“Babe, your couch is in the hall.”

“It has death cooties.”

“I knew there’d be a good explanation.”

I shook my head at him. “You’re such a show-off.” Not only had he placed me at the track, his horse had paid off five to one.

“Even superheroes need to have fun once in a while,” he said, looking me over, brushing past me, walking into the living room. “It smells like you’re marking your territory with chocolate chip cookies.”

“I needed something to chase away the demons.”

“Any problems?”

“Nope.” Not since I pushed the couch into the hall. “So what’s up?” I said. “You look like you’re dressed for work.”

“I had to secure a building earlier this evening.”

I’d once been with him when his team secured a building. It involved throwing a drug dealer out a third-story window.

He took a cookie off the plate on the floor. “Frozen?”

“Not anymore.”

“How’d it go at the track?”

“I ran into Eddie Abruzzi.”

“And?”

“We had words. I didn’t find out as much as I’d hoped, but I’m convinced Evelyn has something he wants.”

“I know what it is,” Ranger said, eating his cookie.

I stared at him openmouthed. “What is it?”

He smiled. “How bad do you want to know?”

“Are we playing?”

He slowly shook his head no. “This isn’t play.” He backed me against the wall, and he leaned into me. His leg slid between mine, his lips brushed lightly across my lips. “How bad do you want to know, Steph?” he asked again.

“Tell me.”

“It’ll get added to the debt.”

Like I was going to worry about that now? I was in way over my credit limit weeks ago!

“Are you going to tell me, or what?”

“Remember I told you Abruzzi is a war gainer? Well, he does more than game. He collects memorabilia. Old guns, army uniforms, military medals. And he doesn’t just collect them. He wears them. Mostly when he games. Sometimes when he’s with women, I’m told. Sometimes when he’s settling a bad debt. Word on the street is that Abruzzi is missing a medal. Supposedly the medal belonged to Napoleon. The story being told is that Abruzzi tried to buy the medal, but the guy who owned it wouldn’t sell it, so Abruzzi killed him and took the medal. Abruzzi kept the medal on his desk at his house. He wore it when he gamed. Believed it made him invincible.”

“And this is what Evelyn has? The medal?”

“That’s what I hear.”

“How did she get it?”

“I don’t know.”

He moved against me and desire skittered through my stomach and burned low in my belly. He was hard every where. His thigh, his gun… everything was hard. He lowered his head and kissed my neck. He touched his tongue to the place he just kissed. And then he kissed it again. His hand slid under my T-shirt, his palm heating my skin, his fingers at the base of my breast.

“Pay-up time,” he said. “I’m collecting on the debt.”

I almost collapsed onto the floor.

He took my hand and tugged me toward the bedroom. “The movie,” I said. “The best part of the movie is coming up.” In all honesty, I couldn’t remember a single thing about the movie. Not the name or anyone in it.

He was standing close, his face inches from mine, his hand at the back of my neck.

“We’re going to do this, babe,” he said. “It’s going to be good.” And then he kissed me. The kiss deepened, became more demanding, more intimate.

I had my hands splayed over his chest, and I felt the toned muscle under my hands, felt his heart beating. So he has a heart, I thought. That’s a good sign. He must be at least part human.

He broke from the kiss and pushed me into the bedroom. He kicked his boots off, dropped his gun belt, and he stripped. The light was low, but it was enough to see that what Ranger promised in SWAT clothes was kept when the clothes were shed. He was all firm muscle and smooth dark skin. His body was in perfect proportion. His eyes were intense and focused.

He peeled my clothes off and wrangled me onto the bed. And then suddenly he was inside me. He once told me that time spent with him would ruin me for all other men. When he said it, I thought it was an outrageous threat. I no longer thought it outrageous. We lay together for a while when we were done. Finally he ran his hand the length of my body. “It’s time,” he said.

“Now what?”

“You didn’t think the debt would be paid that easily, did you?”

“Uh-oh, is this the part with the handcuffs?”

“I don’t need handcuffs to enslave a woman,” Ranger said, kissing my shoulder. He kissed me lightly on my lips and then dipped his head to kiss my chin, my neck, my collarbone. He moved lower, kissing the swell of my breast and my nipple. He kissed my navel and then my belly, and then he put his mouth to my… omigod!

**********************

HE WAS STILL in my bed the next morning. He was pressed next to me, his arm holding me close. I woke to the sound of the alarm on his watch. He shut the alarm off and rolled away to check the pager that had been placed on the nightstand, next to his gun.

“I have to go, babe,” he said. And he was dressed. And he was gone. Oh shit. What did I do? I just did it with the Wizard. Holy crap! Okay, calm down. Let’s examine this more sanely. What just happened here? We did it. And he left. The leaving seemed a smidgen abrupt, but then it was Ranger. What did I expect? And he hadn’t been abrupt last night. He’d been… amazing. I sighed and heaved myself out of bed. I showered and dressed and went into the kitchen to say good morning to Rex. Only there was no Rex. Rex was living with my parents.

The house felt empty without Rex, so I packed myself off to my parents‘. It was Sunday and there was the added incentive of doughnuts. My mother and grandmother always bought doughnuts on their way home from church.

The horse kid was galloping through the house in her Sunday School dress. She stopped galloping when she saw me and her face grew thoughtful. “Have you found Annie yet?”

“No,” I said. “But I talked to her mom on the phone.”

“Next time you talk to her mom you should tell her Annie’s missing stuff at school. Tell her I got put in the Black Stallion reading group.”

“You’re telling another whopper,” Grandma said. “You’re in the Blue Bird reading group.”

“I don’t want to be a blue bird,” Annie said. “Blue birds are poopy. I want to be a black stallion.” And she galloped away.

“I love that kid,” I said to Grandma.

“Yep,” Grandma said. “She reminds me a lot of you when you were that age. Good imagination. It comes from my side of the family. Except it skipped a generation with your mother. Your mother and Valerie and Angie are blue birds through and through.”

I helped myself to a doughnut and poured out a cup of coffee.

“You look different,” Grandma said to me. “I can’t put my finger on it. And you’ve been smiling ever since you walked in.”

Damn Ranger. I noticed the smile when I brushed my teeth. It wouldn’t go away!

“Amazing what a good night’s sleep can do for you,” I said to Grandma.

“I wouldn’t mind having a smile like that,” Grandma said.

Valerie came to the table, looking morose. “I don’t know what to do about Albert,” she said.

“Not got a two-bathroom house?”

“He lives with his mother, and he has less money than I do.”

No surprises there. “Good men are hard to find,” I said. “And when you find them, there’s always something wrong with them.”

Valerie looked in the doughnut bag. “It’s empty. Where’s my doughnut?”

“Stephanie ate it,” Grandma said.

“I only had one!”

“Oh,” Grandma said, “then maybe it was me. I had three.”

“We need more doughnuts,” Valerie said. “I have to have a doughnut.”

I grabbed my bag and hiked it onto my shoulder. “I’ll get more. I could use another one, too.”

“I’ll go with you,” Grandma said. “I want to ride in your shiny black car. I don’t suppose you’d let me drive?”

My mother was at the stove. “Don’t you dare let her drive. I’m holding you responsible. If she drives and gets in an accident, you’re going to be the one visiting her in the nursing home.”

We went to Tasty Pastry on Hamilton. I worked there when I was in high school. Gave away my virginity there, too. Behind the eclair case, after-hours, with Morelli. I’m not sure how it happened. One minute I was selling him a cannoli and next thing I knew I was on the floor with my pants down. Morelli’s always been good at talking the pants off women.

I parked in the small lot on the side of Tasty Pastry. The after-church rush was over, and the lot was empty. There were seven parking slots that went nose in to the red brick wall of the bakery, and I parked square in the middle slot.

Grandma and I went into the bakery and picked out another dozen doughnuts. Probably overkill, but better to have too many than to be doughnut deprived. We came out of the bakery, and we were approaching Ranger’s CR-V when a green Ford Explorer careened into the lot and came to a screeching halt next to us. The driver had a rubber Clinton mask over his face, and the passenger seat was occupied by the rabbit. My heart went ka-thunk in my chest, and I got a rush of adrenaline. “Run,” I said, shoving Grandma, plunging my hand into my bag to find my gun. “Run back to the bakery.”

The guy in the rubber mask and the guy in the rabbit suit were out of the car before it stopped rolling. They rushed at Grandma and me with guns drawn and herded us between the two cars. The rubber mask guy was of average height and build. He was wearing jeans and running shoes and a Nike jacket. The rabbit was wearing the big rabbit head and street clothes.

“Against the car, and hands where I can see them,” the mask guy said.

“Who are you supposed to be?” Grandma asked. “You look like Bill Clinton.”

“Yeah, I’m Bill Clinton,” the guy said. “Get against the car.”

“I never understood that part about the cigar,” Grandma said.

“Get against the car! ”

I backed against the car and my mind was racing. Cars were moving on the street in front of us, but we were hidden from sight. If I screamed I doubted I’d be heard by anyone, unless someone walked by on the sidewalk.

The rabbit got up close to me. “Thaaa id ya raa raa da haaar id ra raa.”

“What?”

“Haaar id ra raa.”

“We can’t figure out what you’re saying, on account of you’re wearing that big stupid rabbit head,” Grandma said.

“Raa raa,” the rabbit said. “Raa raa! ”

Grandma and I looked over at Clinton.

Clinton shook his head in disgust. “I don’t know what he’s saying, What the hell’s raa raa?” he asked the rabbit.

“Haaar id ra raa.”

“Christ,” Clinton said. “Nobody can understand you. Haven’t you ever tried to talk in that thing before?”

The rabbit gave Clinton a shove. “Ra raa, you fraaakin‘ aar ho.”

Clinton flipped the rabbit the bird.

“Jaaaark,” the rabbit said. And then he unzipped his pants and pulled out his wanger. He waggled his wanger at Clinton. And then he waggled it at Grandma and me.

“I remember them as being bigger than that,” Grandma said.

The rabbit yanked and pulled at himself and managed to get half a hard-on.

“Rogga. Ga rogga,” the rabbit said.

“I think he’s trying to tell you this is a preview,” Clinton said. “Something to look forward to.”

The rabbit was still working it. He’d found his rhythm, and he was really whacking away.

“Maybe you should help him out,” Clinton said to me. “Go ahead. Touch it.”

My lip curled back. “What are you nuts? I’m not touching it!”

“I’ll touch it,” Grandma said.

“Kraaa,” the rabbit said. And his wanger wilted a little.

A car turned off the street, into the lot, and Clinton gave the rabbit a shot in the arm.

“Let’s roll.”

They backed up, still holding us at gunpoint. Both men jumped into the Explorer and took off.

“Maybe we should have got some cannoli,” Grandma said. “I got a sudden taste for cannoli.”

I loaded Grandma into the CR-V and drove her back to the house.

“We saw that rabbit again,” Grandma told my mother. “The one who gave me the pictures. I think he must live by the bakery. This time he showed us his ding-a-ling.”

My mother was justifiably horrified.

“Was he wearing a wedding band?” Valerie asked.

“I didn’t notice,” Grandma said. “I wasn’t looking at his hand.”

“You were held at gunpoint and sexually assaulted,” I said to Grandma. “Weren’t you frightened? Aren’t you upset?”

“They weren’t real guns,” Grandma said. “And we were in the parking lot to the bakery. Who would be serious about something like that in a bakery parking lot?”

“They were real guns,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe I’ll sit down,” Grandma said. “I thought that rabbit was just one of those exhibitionists. Remember Sammy the Squirrel? He was always dropping his drawers in people’s backyards. Sometimes we’d give him a sandwich after.”

The Burg has had its share of exhibitionists, some mentally challenged, some drunk beyond reason, some just out for a good time. For the most part, the attitude is eyerolling tolerance. Once in a while someone drops his drawers in the wrong backyard and ends up with an ass filled with buckshot.

I called Morelli and told him about the rabbit. “He was with Clinton,” I said. “And they weren’t getting along all that great.”

“You should file a report.”

“There’s only one body part I’d ever recognize on this guy, and I don’t think you’ve got it in the mug books.”

“Are you carrying a gun?”

“Yes. I didn’t have time to get to it.”

“Put it on your hip. It’s illegal to carry concealed anyway. And it wouldn’t be a bad idea to actually put a couple bullets in it.”

“I have bullets in it.” Ranger put them in. “Have they identified the guy in the trunk yet?”

“Thomas Turkello. Also known as Thomas Turkey. Muscle for hire out of Philadelphia. My guess is he was expendable, and better to snuff him than take a chance on him talking. The rabbit is probably inner circle.”

“Anything else?”

“What would you want?”

“Abruzzi’s fingerprint on a murder weapon.”

“Sorry.”

I was reluctant to disconnect, but I didn’t have anything else to say. The truth is, I had a hollow feeling in my stomach that I hated to put a name to. I was mortally afraid it was loneliness. Ranger was fire and magic, but he wasn’t real. Morelli was everything I wanted in a man, but he wanted me to be something I wasn’t.

I hung up and retreated to the living room. If you sat in front of the television in my parents’ house, you weren’t expected to talk. Even if asked a direct question, the viewer had the discretion of feigning hearing loss. Those were the rules. Grandma and I were side by side on the sofa, watching the Weather Channel. Hard to tell which of us was more shell-shocked.

“I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t touch it,” Grandma said. “Although, I gotta admit, I was kind of curious. It wasn’t real pretty, but it was big toward the end there. Have you ever seen one that big?”

The perfect time to invoke the television no-answer privilege.

After a couple minutes of weather I went back to the kitchen and had my second doughnut. I collected my things and I headed out. “I’m going,” I said to Grandma. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

Grandma didn’t answer. Grandma was zoned out to the Weather Channel. There was a high pressure area moving across the Great Lakes.

I went back to my apartment. This time I had my gun in my hand before I got out of the car. I crossed the lot and entered the building. I paused when I got to my door. This was always the tricky part. Once I was in the apartment I felt fairly secure. I had a security chain and a bolt besides the deadlock. Only Ranger could get in unannounced. Either he walked through the door ghost style, or else he vaporized himself like a vampire and slid under the jamb. I guess there might be a mortal possibility, but I didn’t know what it was.

I unlocked my door and searched through my apartment like the movie version of a CIA operative, skulking from room to room, gun drawn, crouched position, ready to fire. I was crashing open doors and jumping around. Good thing no one was there to see me because I knew I looked like an idiot. The good part was, I didn’t find any rabbits with their tools hanging out. Compared to rape by the rabbit, spiders and snakes seemed like small change.

Ranger called ten minutes after I got into my apartment.

“Are you going to be home for a while?” he asked. “I want to send someone over to set up a security system.”

So the man of mystery reads minds, too.

“My man’s name is Hector,” Ranger said. “He’s on his way.”

Hector was slim and Hispanic, dressed in black. He had a gang slogan tattooed onto his neck and a single tear tattooed under his eye. He was in his early twenties, and he only spoke Spanish.

Hector had my door open and was making a final adjustment when Ranger arrived. Ranger gave a barely audible greeting to Hector in Spanish and glanced at the sensor that had just been installed in my doorjamb.

Then Ranger looked at me, giving away nothing of his thoughts. Our eyes held for a few long moments, and Ranger turned back to Hector. My Spanish is limited to burrito and taco, so I couldn’t understand the exchange between Ranger and Hector. Hector was talking and gesturing, and Ranger was listening and questioning. Hector gave Ranger a small gizmo, picked up his tool chest, and left.

Ranger crooked his finger at me, giving me the come here sign. “This is your remote. It’s a keypad, small enough to hook to your car key. You have a four-digit code to open and close your door. If the door has been violated the remote will tell you. You’re not attached to a watchdog. There’s no alarm. This is designed to give you easy access and to tell you if someone’s broken into your apartment, so you have no more surprises. You have a steel fire door, and Hector’s installed a floor bolt. If you lock yourself in, you should be safe. There’s not much I can do about your windows. The fire escape is a problem. It’s less of a problem if you keep your gun on your nightstand.”

I looked down at the remote. “Does this go on the tab?”

“There’s no tab. And there’s no price for what we give each other. Not ever. Not financial. Not emotional. I have to get back to work.”

He stepped away to leave, and I grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “Not so fast. This isn’t television. This is my life. I want to know more about this no-emotional-price thing?”

“It’s the way it has to be.”

“And what’s this job you have to get back to?”

“I’m running a surveillance operation for a government agency. We’re independent contractors. You aren’t going to grill me on details, are you?”

I released his shirt and blew out a sigh. “I can’t do this. This isn’t going to work.”

“I know,” Ranger said. “You need to repair your relationship with Morelli.”

“We needed a time-out.”

“I’m being a good guy right now because it suits my purposes, but I’m an opportunist, and I’m attracted to you. And I’ll be back in your bed if the Morelli time-out goes on for too long. I could make you forget Morelli if I put my mind to it. That wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

“Yeesh.”

Ranger smiled. “Lock your door.” And he was gone.

I locked my door, and I set the floor bolt. Ranger had successfully taken my mind off the masturbating rabbit. Now if I could just get my mind to stop thinking about Ranger. I knew everything Ranger said was true, with the possible exception of forgetting Morelli. It wasn’t easy to forget Morelli. I’d put a lot of effort into it over the years, but had never been successful.

My phone rang, and someone made kissy sounds to me. I hung up, and it rang again. More kissy sounds. When it rang a third time I pulled the plug.

A half hour later, someone was at my door. “I know you’re in there,” Vinnie yelled. “I saw the CR-V in the parking lot.”

I unlocked the floor bolt, the door bolt, the security chain, and the dead bolt.

“Jesus Christ,” Vinnie said when I finally opened the door. “You’d think there was something valuable in this rat trap.”

“I‘ m valuable.”

“Not as a bounty hunter, you aren’t. Where’s Bender? I’ve got two days to produce Bender, or I pay the money to the court.”

“You’re here to tell me that?”

“Yeah. I figured you needed some reminding. I’ve got my mother-in-law at my house today, driving me nuts. I thought this would be a good time to get Bender. I tried to call you, but your phone isn’t working.”

What the hell, I didn’t have anything else to do. I was sitting here trapped in my apartment with my phone disconnected.

I left Vinnie to wait in the entrance hall, and I went in search of my gun belt. I returned with the black nylon web holster strapped to my leg and my .38 loaded and ready for quick draw.

“Whoa,” Vinnie said, clearly impressed. “You’re finally serious.”

Right. Serious about not getting porked by a rabbit. We cruised out of the lot with me driving and Vinnie working the radio. I turned toward the center of town, keeping one eye on the road ahead and one eye on the rearview mirror. A green SUV came up behind me. He cut over a double line and passed me. The guy in the Clinton mask was behind the wheel, and the big ugly rabbit was riding shotgun. The rabbit turned and popped up through the sun roof and looked back at me. His ears were whipping around in the wind, and he was holding his head on with both hands.

“It’s the rabbit,” I yelled. “Shoot him! Take my gun and shoot him!”

“What are you, nuts?” Vinnie said. “I can’t shoot an unarmed rabbit.”

I was struggling, trying to get my gun out of the holster, trying to drive at the same time.

“I‘ m going to shoot him then. I don’t care if I get sent to jail. It’ll be worth it. I’m going to shoot him in his stupid rabbit head.” I wrenched the gun out of the holster, but I didn’t want to shoot through Ranger’s windshield. “Take the wheel,” I yelled to Vinnie. I opened the window, leaned out, and got off a shot.

The rabbit instantly retreated into the car. The SUV accelerated and turned left, onto a side street. I waited for traffic to pass, and then I turned left, also. I saw them ahead of me. They were turning and turning until we went full circle, and we were back on State. The SUV pulled up at a convenience store, and the two men took off on foot, around the brick building. I slid to a stop beside the Explorer. Vinnie and I jumped from the CR-V

and ran after the men. We chased them for a couple blocks, they cut through a yard, and they disappeared.

Vinnie was bent at the waist, sucking air. “Why are we chasing a rabbit?”

“It’s the rabbit who firebombed my CR-V.”

“Oh yeah. Now I remember. I should have asked sooner. I would have stayed in the car. Jesus, I can’t believe you got off a shot hanging out the window. Who do you think you are, the Terminator? Christ, your mother would have my nuts if she knew you did that. What were you thinking?”

“I got excited.”

“You weren’t excited. You were berserk!”

14

WE WERE IN a neighborhood of large old houses. Some of them had been renovated. And some were waiting for renovation. Some had been turned into apartment buildings. Most of the houses were on good-size lots and sat back from the road. The rabbit and his partner had disappeared around the side of one of the apartment houses. Vinnie and I prowled around the house, standing still from time to time, listening, hoping the rabbit would give himself away. We checked between cars parked in the driveway, and we looked behind shrubs.

“I don’t see them,” Vinnie said. “I think they’re gone. Either they slipped past us and doubled back to their car, or else they’re holed up in this house.”

We both looked at the house.

“Do you want to search the house?” Vinnie asked.

It was a big Victorian. I’d been in houses like this before, and they were filled with closets and hallways and closed doors. Good houses for hiding. Bad houses for searching. Especially for a chickenshit like me. Now that I was out in the air, sanity was returning. And the longer I was out walking around, the less I wanted to find the rabbit.

“I think I’ll pass on the house.”

“Good call,” Vinnie said. “Easy to get your head blown off in a house like this. Of course, that wouldn’t figure into the equation for you, because you’re so freaking nuts. You’ve gotta stop watching those old Al Capone movies.”

“You should talk. What about the time you shot up Pinwheel Soba’s house? You just about destroyed it.”

Vinnie’s face creased into a smile. “I got lost in the moment.”

We walked back to the car with guns still drawn, staying alert to sounds and movement. Half a block from the convenience store, we saw smoke billowing from the other side of the brick building. The smoke was black and acrid, smelling like burning rubber. The sort of smoke you get when a car catches fire.

Sirens were wailing in the distance, and I had another one of those parakeet-flying-away feelings. Dread in the pit of my stomach. It was followed by a rush of calm that signaled the arrival of denial. It couldn’t possibly be happening. Not another car. Not Ranger’s car. It had to be someone else’s car. I started making deals with God. Let it be the Explorer, I suggested to God, and I’ll be a better person. I’ll go to church. I’ll eat more vegetables. I’ll stop abusing the shower massage.

We turned the corner and, sure enough, Ranger’s car was burning. Okay, that’s it, I told God. All deals are off.

“Holy crap,” Vinnie said. “That’s your car. That’s the second CR-V you’ve burned up this week. This might set a new record for you.”

The clerk was standing outside, watching the spectacle. “I saw the whole thing,” he said.

“It was a big rabbit. He rushed into the store and got a can of barbecue starter fuel. And then he poured it in the black car and lit a match to it. Then he drove away in the green SUV.”

I holstered my gun, and I sat on the cement apron in front of the store. Bad enough the car was totaled, my bag had been in it. My credit cards, my driver’s license, my lip gloss, my defense spray, and my new cell phone were all gone. And I’d left the keys in the ignition. And the keypad to my security system was hooked onto the key ring. Vinnie sat next to me. “I always have a good time when I go out with you,” Vinnie said.

“We should do this more often.”

“Do you have your cell phone on you?”

Morelli was the first number I dialed, but Morelli wasn’t home. I hung my head. Ranger was next on the list.

“Yo,” Ranger said when he answered.

“Small problem.”

“No kidding. Your car just went off the screen.”

“It sort of burned up.”

Silence.

“And you know that keypad you gave me? It was in the car.”

“Babe.”

VINNIE AND I were still sitting on the curb when Ranger arrived. Ranger was dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt and boots, and he looked almost normal. He glanced at the smoldering car, then he looked at me and shook his head. The head shake was actually more the suggestion of a head shake. I didn’t want to try to guess the thought that prompted the head shake. I didn’t imagine it would be good. He spoke to one of the cops and gave him a card. Then he collected Vinnie and me and brought us back to my apartment building. Vinnie got into his Caddie and took off.

Ranger smiled and gestured to the gun on my hip. “Looking good, babe. Did you shoot anyone today?”

“I tried.”

He gave a soft laugh, crooked his arm around my neck, and kissed me just above my ear. Hector was waiting for us in the hall. Hector looked like he should be wearing an orange jumpsuit and leg irons. But hey, what do I know? Probably Hector is a real nice guy. Probably he doesn’t know that a teardrop under the eye signifies a gang kill. And even if he does know, it’s only one teardrop, so it’s not like he’s a serial killer, right?

Hector gave Ranger a new keypad, and he said something in Spanish. Ranger said something back, they did one of those complicated handshakes, and Hector left. Ranger beeped my door open and went in with me. “Hector’s already been through. He said the apartment is clean.” He put the keypad on the kitchen counter. “The new keypad is programmed exactly like the last.”

“Sorry about the car.”

“It was just a matter of time, babe. I’ll write it off as entertainment.” He glanced at the readout on his pager. “I have to go. Make sure you engage the floor bolt when I leave.”

I kicked the bolt into place, and I paced around in my kitchen. Pacing is supposed to be calming, but the more I paced, the more annoyed I became. I needed a car for tomorrow, and I wasn’t going to take another car from Ranger. I didn’t like being entertainment. Not automotive entertainment. Not sexual entertainment.

Ah hah! a voice inside me said. Now we’re getting somewhere. This pacing you’re doing isn’t about the car. This is about the sex. You’re all bummed out because you got boinked by a man who wanted nothing more than physical sex. Do you know what you are? the voice asked. You’re a hypocrite.

So? I said to the voice. And? What’s your point?

I thrashed through my cupboards and refrigerator looking for a Tastykake. I knew there were none left, but I looked anyway. Another exercise in futility. My specialty. Okay. Fine. I’ll go out and buy some. I grabbed the keypad Ranger left for me, and I stomped out of the apartment. I slammed the door shut, punched in the code, and realized I was standing out there with nothing but a keypad. No car keys. Unnecessary, of course, because I didn’t have a car. Also, I was without money and credit cards. Large sigh. I needed to go back inside and rethink this.

I punched in the code and tried the door. The door wouldn’t open. I put the code in again. Nothing. I didn’t have a key. All I had was the damn stupid keypad. No reason to panic. I had to be doing something wrong. I went through it again. It wasn’t that complicated. Punch in the numbers and the door unlocks. Maybe I was remembering the numbers wrong. I tried a couple other combinations. No luck.

Piece of shit technology. I hate technology. Technology sucks. Okay, take it easy, I told myself. You don’t want a repeat performance of the car window shoot-out. You don’t want to go gonzo over a silly keypad. I took a couple deep breaths, and I fed the numbers into the keypad one more time. I grabbed the doorknob and pulled and twisted, but the door wouldn’t open.

“Goddamn! ” I threw the keypad down on the floor and jumped up and down. “Damn, damn, damn! ” I kicked the keypad all the way to the far end of the hall. I ran down the hall, unholstered my gun, and shot the keypad. BAM! The keypad jumped, and I shot it again.

An Asian woman opened the door across the hall. She looked out at me, gave a gasp, pulled back inside, and closed and locked her door.

“Sorry,” I called out to her, through the door. “I got carried away.”

I retrieved the mangled keypad and skulked back to my half of the hall. My next door neighbor, Mrs. Karwatt, was in her doorway. “Are you having a problem, dear?” she asked.

“I’m locked out of my apartment.” Fortunately, Mrs. Karwatt kept a key. Mrs. Karwatt gave me the spare key, I inserted it in the lock, and the door wouldn’t open. I followed Mrs. Karwatt into her house, and I used her phone to call Ranger.

“The frigging door won’t open,” I said.

“I’ll send Hector.”

“No! I can’t understand Hector. I can’t talk to him.” And he scares the bejeezus out of me.

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the hall with my back to the wall, and Ranger and Hector showed up.

“What’s wrong?” Ranger asked.

“The door won’t open.”

“Probably just a programming glitch. Do you have the keypad?”

I dropped the keypad into his hand.

Ranger and Hector looked down at the keypad. They looked up at each other, exchanged raised eyebrows, and smiled.

“I think I see the problem,” Ranger said. “Someone’s shot the shit out of this keypad.”

He turned it over in his hand. “At least you were able to hit it. Nice to know the target practice paid off.”

“I’m good at close range.”

It took Hector twenty seconds to open my door and ten minutes to remove the sensors.

“Let me know if you want the system put back in,” Ranger said.

“I appreciate the thought, but I’d rather walk blindfolded into an apartment filled with alligators.”

“Do you want to try your luck with another car? We could raise the stakes. I could give you a Porsche.”

“Tempting, but no. I’m expecting an insurance check tomorrow. As soon as I get it, I’ll have Lula drive me to a dealer.”

Ranger and Hector took off, and I locked myself into my apartment. I’d worked out a lot of aggression shooting the keypad, and I felt much more mellow now. My heart was only skipping a beat once in a while, and the eye twitch was hardly noticeable. I ate the last lump of frozen cookie dough. It wasn’t a Tastykake, but it was pretty good, all the same. I zapped the television on and found a hockey game.

**********************

“UH-OH,” LULA SAID the next morning. “Was that a taxi that brought you to the office? What happened to Ranger’s car?”

“It burned up.”

“Say what?”

“And my bag was in it. I need to go shopping for a new handbag.”

“I’m the woman for the job,” Lula said. “What time is it? Are the stores open yet?”

It was ten o’clock, Monday morning. The stores were open. I’d reported my melted credit cards. I was ready to roll.

“Hold on,” Connie said. “What about the filing?”

“The filing’s just about all done,” Lula said. She took a stack of files and shoved them into a drawer. “Anyway, we aren’t gonna be long. Stephanie always gets the same boring bag. She goes straight to the Coach counter and gets one of them big-ass black leather shoulder bags, and that’s the end of that.”

“Turns out that my driver’s license burned up, too,” I said. “I was hoping you might also give me a ride to the DMV.”

Connie did a big eye roll. “Go.”

IT WAS NOON when we got to Quaker Bridge Mall. I bought my shoulder bag, and then Lulu and I tested out some perfume. We were on the upper level, walking toward the escalators on our way to leave for the lot, and a familiar shape loomed in front of me.

“You!” Martin Paulson said. “What is it with you? I can’t get away from you.”

“Don’t start with me,” I said. “I’m not happy with you.”

“Gee, that’s too bad. I almost really care. What are you doing here today? Looking for somebody new to brutalize?”

“I didn’t brutalize you.”

“You knocked me down.”

“You fell down. Twice.”

“I told you I have a bad sense of balance.”

“Look, just get out of my way. I’m not going to stand here and argue with you.”

“Yeah, you heard her,” Lula said. “Get out of her way.”

Paulson turned to better see Lula, and apparently he was caught off guard by what he saw, because he lost his balance and fell backward, down the escalator. There were a couple people in front of him, and he knocked them over like bowling pins. They all landed in a heap on the floor.

Lula and I scrambled down the escalator to the pile of bodies.

Paulson seemed to be the only one who was hurt. “My leg’s broken,” he said. “I bet you anything my leg’s broken. I keep telling you, I have a problem with equilibrium. Nobody ever listens to me.”

“There’s probably a good reason why no one listens to you,” Lula said. “You look like a big bag of wind, if you ask me.”

“It’s all your fault,” Paulson said. “You scared the hell out of me. They should get the fashion police out after you. And what’s with the yellow hair? You look like Harpo Marx.”

“Hunh,” Lula said. “I’m outta here. I’m not standing here getting insulted. I got to get back to work anyway.”

We were in the car at the exit to the parking lot, and Lula stopped short. “Hold on. Do I have my shopping bags in the backseat?”

I turned and looked. “No.”

“Damn! I must have dropped them when that sack of monkey doodie pushed me.”

“No problem. Pull up to the door, and I’ll run in and get them.”

Lula drove to the entrance, and I retraced our steps, back to the middle of the mall. I had to walk past Paulson to get to the escalator. The EMTs had him on a stretcher and were getting ready to wheel him out. I took the escalator to the second level and found the shopping bags laying on the floor by the bench, right where Lula had left them. Thirty minutes later, we were back at the office, and Lula had her bags spread out on the couch. “Uh-oh,” she said. “We got one too many bags. You see this here big brown bag?

It’s not mine.”

“It was on the floor with the other bags,” I said.

“Oh boy,” Lula said. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking? I don’t even want to look in that bag. I got a bad feeling about that bag.”

“You were right about the bad feeling,” I said, looking into the bag. “There are a pair of pants in here that could only belong to Paulson. Plus a couple shirts. Oh crap, there’s a box all wrapped up in happy birthday kid’s wrapping paper.”

“My suggestion is you throw that bag in the Dumpster, and you go wash your hands,”

Lula said.

“I can’t do that. The guy just broke his leg. And there’s a kid’s birthday present in here.”

“No big deal,” Lula said. “He can go onto the Internet and steal some more stuff and get another present.”

“This is my fault,” I said. “I took Paulson’s bag. I need to get it back to him.”

There are several hospitals in the Trenton area. If Paulson was taken to St. Francis, I could walk up the street and give him his bag before he was discharged. And there was a good chance Paulson was at St. Francis because it was the closest hospital to his home. I called the switchboard and had them check with ER. I was told Paulson was indeed in ER, and they expected him to be there a while longer.

I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Paulson, but it was a nice spring day, and it felt good to be outside. I decided I’d walk to the hospital, and then I’d walk to my parents’ and mooch dinner and say hello to Rex. I had my new bag over my shoulder, and I was feeling confident because my gun was in my bag. Plus new lip gloss. Am I a professional, or what?

I swung along Hamilton for a couple blocks and then cut off just before the hospital’s main entrance and took the side street to the emergency entrance. I found the nurse in charge and asked her to give the bag to Paulson.

So now I was off the hook, the bag was no longer my responsibility. I’d gone the extra mile to get it back to Paulson, and I left the hospital feeling all elated with my own goodness.

My parents lived behind the hospital, in the heart of the Burg. I walked past the parking garage and paused at the intersection. It was midafternoon, and there were few cars on the roads. Schools were still in session. Restaurants were empty. A lone car rolled down the street and paused at the stop sign. A car was parked at the curb to my left. I heard a foot scrape against gravel. I turned my head at the sound. And the rabbit popped up from behind the parked car. He was fully suited this time.

“Boo! ” he said.

I gave an involuntary shriek. He’d caught me by surprise. I shoved my hand into my bag in search of my gun, but a second person was suddenly in front of me, grabbing at my shoulder strap. It was the guy in the Clinton mask. If I could have gotten to my gun, I would gladly have shot them. And if it had been a single man, I might have been able to get to my gun. As it was, I was overpowered.

I went down kicking and screaming and clawing with both men on top of me. The streets were deserted, but I was making a lot of noise and there were houses nearby. If I yelled loud enough and long enough I knew I’d be heard. The car in the intersection wheeled around and rolled to a stop inches away from us.

The rabbit opened the back door and tried to drag me into the car. I was spread-eagle in the car door opening, hanging on with my fingernails, screaming my head off. The Clinton mask guy tried to grab my legs, and when he came in close I kicked out and caught him under the chin with my CAT. The guy staggered backward and keeled over. Crash! Flat on his back on the sidewalk.

The driver was out of the car now. He was wearing a Richard Nixon mask, and I was pretty sure I recognized the build. I was pretty sure it was Darrow. I wriggled away from the rabbit. Hard to hold onto things when you’re wearing a rabbit suit with rabbit paws. I tripped on the curb and went down on one knee. I scrambled up and took off, running for all I was worth. The rabbit ran after me.

There was a car in the intersection, and I streaked past it yelling. My voice felt hoarse, and I was probably croaking more than yelling. The knee was torn out of my jeans, my arm was scratched and bleeding, and my hair was in my face, wild and tangled from rolling on the ground with the rabbit. I barely glanced at the car, noting only that it was silver. I could hear the rabbit behind me. My lungs were burning, and I knew I couldn’t outrun him. I was too scared to think ahead. I was blindly running down the street. I heard the screech of wheels and a car motor getting gunned. Darrow, I thought. Coming to get me. I turned to look, and I saw it wasn’t Darrow behind me. It was the silver car that had been in the intersection. It was a Buick LeSabre. And my mother was at the wheel. She ran flatout into the rabbit. The rabbit did a flip off the car in an explosion of fake fur and landed in a crumpled heap at the side of the road. The Darrowdriven car slid to a stop beside the rabbit. Darrow and the other rubber mask guy got out, scooped the rabbit up, dumped him into the backseat, and took off. My mother was stopped a few feet from me. I limped to the car, she popped the lock, and I got in.

“Holy Mary, mother of God,” my mother said. “You were being chased by Richard Nixon, Bill Clinton, and a rabbit.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Good thing you came along when you did.”

“I ran over the rabbit,” she wailed. “I probably killed him.”

“He was a bad rabbit. He deserved to die.”

“He looked like the Easter bunny. I killed the Easter bunny,” she sobbed. I pulled a tissue out of my mother’s purse and handed it to her. Then I looked through the purse more thoroughly. “You have any Valium in here? Any Klonapin or Ativan?”

My mother blew her nose and put the car in gear. “Do you have any idea what it’s like for a mother to drive down the street and see her daughter being chased by a rabbit? I don’t know why you can’t have a normal job. Like your sister.”

I rolled my eyes. My sister again. Saint Valerie.

“And she’s dating a nice man,” my mother said. “I think he has honorable intentions. And he’s a lawyer. He’ll make a good living someday.” My mother drove back to the intersection, so I could retrieve my shoulder bag. “And what about you,” she wanted to know. “Who are you dating?”

“Don’t ask,” I said. I wasn’t dating anyone. I was fornicating with Batman.

“I’m not sure what I should do next,” my mother said. “Do you think I should report this to the police? What would I say to them? I mean, how would it sound? I was on my way to Giovichinni’s for lunch meat when I saw a rabbit chasing my daughter down the street, so I ran over him, but now he’s gone.”

“Remember when I was a kid, and we were all going to the movies, and Daddy hit the dog on Roebling? We got out and looked for the dog, but we couldn’t find him. He just ran off somewhere.”

“I felt terrible about that.”

“Yeah, but we went to the movies anyway. Maybe we should just go get the lunch meat.”

“It was a rabbit,” my mother said. “And he had no business being in the road.”

“Exactly.”

We drove to Giovichinni’s in silence and parked in front of the store. We both got out and looked at the front of the Buick. There was some rabbit fur stuck to the grille, but aside from that the LeSabre looked okay.

While my mother was talking to the butcher, I stole off and called Morelli on the outside pay phone. “This is a little awkward,” I said, “but my mother just ran over the rabbit.”

“Ran over?”

“As in roadkill. We’re not sure what to do about it.”

“Where are you?”

“Giovichinni’s, buying lunch meat.”

“And the rabbit?”

“Gone. He was with two other guys. They scooped him up off the road and drove away with him.”

There was a long silence on the phone. “I’m fucking speechless,” Morelli finally said. An hour later, I heard Morelli’s truck pull up in front of my parents’ house. He was in jeans and boots and a cotton crew with the sleeves pushed up. The crew was loose enough to hide the gun that was always at his waist.

I’d showered and fixed my hair, but I didn’t have fresh clothes to change into, so I was still in the torn, bloodstained jeans and dirt-smudged T-shirt. I had a ragged cut on my knee, a large scrape on my arm, and another on my cheek. I met Morelli on the porch and closed the door behind me. I didn’t want Grandma Mazur joining us. Morelli gave me the long, slow lookover. “I could kiss that cut on your knee and make it all better.”

A skill acquired from years of playing doctor.

We sat side by side on the step, and I told him about the rabbit at the bakery and the attempted abduction at the intersection. “And I’m almost sure Darrow was driving,” I said.

“Do you want me to have him brought in?”

“No. I couldn’t positively ID him.”

Morelli’s face broke into a smile. “Your mother really ran the rabbit over?”

“She saw him chasing me. And she ran him over. Threw him about ten feet into the air.”

“She likes you.”

I nodded yes. And my eyes filled.

A car drove by. Two men.

“That could be them,” I said. “Two of Abruzzi’s guys. I try to be vigilant, but the cars are always different. And I only know Abruzzi and Darrow. The others have always had their faces covered. I have no good way of knowing when I’m being stalked. And it’s worse at night when all I can see are lights coming and going.”

“We’re working overtime, trying to find Evelyn, canvassing the neighborhoods for witnesses, but so far there hasn’t been a break. Abruzzi’s got himself well protected.”

“Do you need to talk to my mom about the rabbit thing?”

“Were there any witnesses?”

“Only the two guys in the car.”

“We don’t usually write up accidents involving rabbits. This was a rabbit, right?”

**********************

MORELLI DECLINED DINNER. I couldn’t blame him. Valerie had Kloughn home with her, and the table was standing room only.

“Isn’t he the cute one,” Grandma whispered to me in the kitchen. “Just like the Pillsbury Doughboy.”

After dinner I got my dad to drive me home.

“What do you think of this clown?” he asked on the way. “He seems to be sweet on Valerie. Do you think there’s any chance this could turn into something?”

“He didn’t get up and leave when Grandma asked him if he was a virgin. I thought that was a good sign.”

“Yeah, he hung in there. He must really be desperate if he’s willing to get involved with this family. Has anyone told him the horse kid belongs to Valerie?”

I figured there wasn’t a problem with Mary Alice. Kloughn probably had empathy for a kid who was different. What Kloughn might not understand was Valerie in the fluffy pink slippers. Probably we should make sure he never sees the slippers. It was almost nine when my dad dropped me off. The parking lot was filled and lights were on in all the apartment windows. The seniors were settled in for the night, victims of failing night vision and television addiction. By nine o’clock they were happy campers, having self-medicated with tumblers of booze and Diagnosis Murder. At 10:00 they’d pop a little white pill and hurl themselves into hours of sleep apnea. I approached my front door and decided I’d been hasty in rejecting Ranger’s security system. It would be nice to know if someone was waiting for me inside. I had my gun shoved into the waistband of my jeans. And I had a plan outlined in my head. My plan was to open the door, take the gun in hand, flip all the lights on, and do another embarrassing imitation of a television cop.

The kitchen was easy to cover. Nothing there. The living room and dining room were next. Again, easy to take in. The bathroom was more tense. I had the shower curtain to contend with. I needed to remember not to close the shower curtain. I ripped the shower curtain open and let out a whoosh of air. No one dead in my tub.

At first glance, my bedroom was fine. Unfortunately, I knew from past experience that the bedroom was filled with hiding places for all sorts of nasty things, like snakes. I looked under the bed and in all my drawers. I opened my closet door and let out another whoosh of air. Nobody here. I’d gone through the entire apartment and not found anyone, dead or alive. I could lock myself in and feel perfectly safe. I was leaving the bedroom when it hit me. A visual memory of something odd. Something out of place. I returned to my closet and opened the door. And there it was, hanging with the rest of my clothes, smashed between my suede jacket and a denim shirt. The rabbit suit.

I snapped on rubber gloves, removed the rabbit suit from my closet, and deposited it in the elevator. I didn’t want another full-scale crime-scene investigation assault on my apartment. I used the pay phone in the lobby to put in an anonymous call to the police about the suit in the elevator. And then I returned to my apartment and slid Ghostbusters into the DVD player.

Halfway through Ghostbusters I got a call from Morelli. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the rabbit suit in your elevator, would you?”

“Who me?”

“Off the record, out of morbid curiosity, where did you find it?”

“It was hanging in my closet.”

“Christ.”

“Do you suppose this means the rabbit no longer needs the suit?” I asked.

**********************

I DIALED RANGER first thing the next morning. “About that security system,” I said.

“Are you still having visitors?”

“I found a rabbit suit in my closet last night.”

“Anybody in it?”

“Nope. Just the suit.”

“I’ll send Hector.”

“Hector scares the hell out of me.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Ranger said. “But he hasn’t killed anybody in over a year now. And he’s gay. You’re probably safe.”

15

THE NEXT CALL was from Morelli. “I just got into work, and I heard an interesting piece of information,” Morelli said to me. “Do you know Leo Klug?”

“No.”

“He’s a butcher at Sal Carto’s Meat Market. Your mother probably gets her kielbasa there. Leo is about my height but heavier. He has a scar running the length of his face. Black hair.”

“Okay. I know who you mean. I was in there a couple weeks ago, picking up some sausage, and he waited on me.”

“It’s pretty well known here that Klug has done some contract butchering.”

“You’re not talking about cows.”

“Cows are the day job,” Morelli said.

“I have a feeling I’m not going to like the direction of this conversation.”

“Lately, Klug has been hanging out with a couple guys who work for Abruzzi. And this morning, Klug turned up dead, the victim of a hit-and-run.”

“Omigod.”

“He was found on the side of the road half a block from the butcher shop.”

“Any idea who hit him?”

“No, but statistics are high for a drunk driver.”

We pondered that for a moment.

“Probably your mother should run the LeSabre through a car wash,” Morelli said.

“Holy crap. My mother killed Leo Klug.”

“I didn’t hear that,” Morelli said.

I got off the phone and made some coffee. I scrambled an egg and popped a piece of bread into the toaster. Stephanie Plum, domestic goddess. I sneaked out into the hall, swiped Mr. Wolesky’s paper, and read it with my breakfast.

I was returning the paper when Ranger and Hector stepped out of the elevator.

“I know where she is,” Ranger said. “I just got a call. Let’s roll.”

I cut my eyes to Hector.

“Don’t worry about Hector,” Ranger said.

I grabbed my bag and a jacket and ran to keep up with Ranger. He was driving the bugeyed truck again. I hauled myself up to seat level and buckled in.

“Where is she?”

“Newark Airport. Jeanne Ellen was returning with her FTA, and she saw Dotty and Evelyn and the kids in the waiting area one gate over. I had Tank check on their flight. It was scheduled to take off at ten but it’s been delayed an hour. We should be able to get there in time.”

“Where were they going?”

“Miami.”

Traffic was heavy through Trenton. It eased up for a while and then got heavy again on the Turnpike. Fortunately, the flow on the Turnpike was steady. Good Jersey traffic. The kind that gets your adrenaline going. Bumper to bumper at eighty miles an hour. I looked at my watch when we took the airport exit. It was almost 10:00. A few minutes later, Ranger swung into the Delta passenger drop-off and stopped at the curb. “It’s getting tight,” he said. “You go ahead while I park. If you have a gun on you, you have to leave it in the truck.”

I gave him my gun and took off. I checked the departures monitor when I entered the terminal. The flight was now on time. Still leaving from the same gate. I cracked my knuckles while I stood in line at the security check. I was so close to Evelyn and Annie. It would be a killer headache if I missed them here.

I passed through security and followed the signs to the gate. I was moving down the corridor, and I was looking at everyone. I scanned ahead, and I saw Evelyn and Dotty and the kids, two gates away. They were sitting, waiting. Nothing unusual about them. A couple moms and their kids, going to Florida.

I quietly approached them and sat in the empty seat next to Evelyn. “We need to talk,” I said.

They seemed only mildly surprised. As if nothing could surprise them much anymore. They both looked tired. Their clothes looked slept in. The kids were amusing each other, being loud and obnoxious. The sort of kids you see all the time in airports. Strung out.

“I meant to call you,” Evelyn said. “I would have called when we got to Miami. You should tell Grammy I’m okay.”

“I want to know why you’re running. And if you don’t tell me I’m going to make problems for you. I’m going to stop you from leaving.”

“No.” Evelyn said. “Please don’t do that. It’s important that we catch this plane.”

The first boarding announcement went out.

“The Trenton police are looking for you,” I said. “You’re wanted for questioning for two murders. I can call security and have you brought back to Trenton.”

Evelyn’s face went white. “He’ll kill me.”

“Abruzzi?”

She nodded.

“Maybe you should tell her,” Dotty said. “We haven’t got much time.”

“When Steven lost the bar to Abruzzi, Abruzzi came over to the house with his men and he did something to me.”

I felt myself instinctively suck in some air. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“It was his way of making us afraid. He’s like a cat with a mouse. He likes to play before he kills. And he likes to dominate women.”

“You should have gone to the police.”

“He would have killed me before I got to testify. Or worse, he might have done something to Annie. The legal system moves too slow with a man like Abruzzi.”

“Why is he after you now?” Ranger had already told me the answer, but I wanted to hear it from Evelyn.

“Abruzzi is a war nut. He plays war games. And he collects medals and things. And he had one medal that he kept on his desk. I guess it was his favorite medal because it belonged to Napoleon.

“Anyway, when Steven and I got divorced the court gave Steven visitation rights. He got Annie every Saturday. A couple weeks ago Abruzzi had a birthday party at his house for his daughter, and he demanded that Steven bring Annie.”

“Was Annie friends with Abruzzi’s daughter?”

“No. It was just Abruzzi’s way of asserting his power. He’s always doing things like that. He calls the people around him his troops. And they have to treat him like the Godfather or Napoleon or some big general. So he gave this party for his daughter and the troops were all supposed to attend with their kids.

“Steven was considered one of the troops. He lost the bar to Abruzzi, and it was like Abruzzi owned him after that. Steven didn’t like losing the bar, but I think he liked belonging to Abruzzi’s family. Made him feel like a big shot to be associated with someone everyone was afraid of.”

Until he got sawed in half.

“Anyway, while the party was going on, Annie wandered into Abruzzi’s office, spotted the medal on Abruzzi’s desk, and took it back to the party to show the rest of the children. No one paid much attention and, somehow, the medal got stuffed into Annie’s pocket. And she brought it home.”

There was a second boarding call and from the corner of my eye I could see Ranger standing at a distance, watching.

“Keep going,” I said. “There’s still time.”

“As soon as I saw the medal I knew what it was.”

“Your ticket out?”

“Yes. As long as I was in Trenton, Abruzzi would own Annie and me. And I had no money to leave. No job skills. And worse, there was the divorce agreement. But the medal was worth a lot of money. Abruzzi used to brag about it all the time.

“So I packed up and left. I was out of the house an hour after the medal walked in. I went to Dotty for help because I didn’t know where else to go. Until I sold the medal I didn’t have any money.”

“Unfortunately, it takes time to sell a medal like that,” Dotty said. “And it had to be done quietly.”

A tear slid down Evelyn’s cheek. “I made a mess of it for Dotty. Now she’s dragged into it and can’t get out.”

Dotty was keeping watch over the pack of kids. “It’ll work out okay,” she said. But she didn’t look like she believed it.

“What about the pictures Annie drew in her pad?” I asked. “They were pictures of people getting shot. I thought maybe she witnessed a murder.”

“If you look more closely you’ll see the men are wearing medals. She drew the pictures while I was packing. Everyone who came into contact with Abruzzi, even children, knew about war and killing and medals. It was an obsession.”

I suddenly felt very defeated. There was nothing here for me. No witness to a murder. No one who could help remove Abruzzi from my life.

“We have a buyer waiting for us in Miami,” Dotty said. “I sold my car to get these tickets.”

“Can you trust this buyer?”

“He seems to be okay. And I have a friend meeting us at the airport. He’s a pretty sharp guy, and he’s going to oversee the transaction. I think the transaction is pretty simple. We hand over the medal. Some expert examines it. And Evelyn gets a suitcase filled with money.”

“Then what?”

“We’ll probably have to stay hidden. Start a new life somewhere. If Abruzzi gets caught or killed, we can come home.”

I had no reason to detain them. I thought they’d made some bad choices, but who was I to judge? “Good luck,” I said. “Keep in touch. And call Mabel. She worries about you.”

Evelyn jumped up and hugged me. Dotty gathered the kids together, and they all toddled off to Miami.

Ranger came over and slung an arm around me. “They told you a sob story, didn’t they?”

“Yep.”

He smiled and kissed me on the top of my head. “You really should think about getting into a different line of work. Grooming kitty cats, maybe. Or floral design.”

“It was very convincing.”

“Did the little girl witness a murder?”

“No. She stole a medal that was worth a suitcase full of money.”

Ranger raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Good for her. I like to see enterprise in kids.”

“I haven’t got a murder witness. And the bear and the rabbit are dead. I think I’m fucked.”

“Maybe after lunch,” he said. “My treat.”

“You mean lunch is your treat?”

“That, too. I know a place here in Newark that makes Shorty’s look like a sissy joint.”

Oh boy.

“And by the way, I checked your thirty-eight when you left it in the truck. You only have two bullets in it. I have this sinking feeling that the gun will go back to the cookie jar when you empty the cylinder.”

I smiled at Ranger. I can be mysterious, too.

**********************

RANGER PAGED HECTOR when we were on our way home, and Hector was in front of my apartment, waiting for us when we stepped out of the elevator. He handed the new keypad to Ranger, and he smiled at me and made a gun with his fist and forefinger.

“Bang,” he said.

“Pretty good,” I said to Ranger. “Hector’s learning English.”

Ranger flipped me the keypad, and he left with Hector.

I let myself into my apartment, and I stood in my kitchen. Now what? Now I had to hang out and wonder when Abruzzi would come for me. What form would it take? And how awful would it be? Awful beyond my imaginings, probably.

If I was my mother I’d be ironing. My mother ironed under stress. Stay far away from my mother when she is ironing. If I was Mabel I’d be baking. What about Grandma Mazur? That was an easy one. The Weather Channel. So what do I do? I eat Tastykakes. Okay, there’s my problem. I haven’t got any Tastykakes. I’d had a burger with Ranger, but I’d skipped dessert. And now I needed a Tastykake. Without a Tastykake I was left to sit here and worry about Abruzzi. Unfortunately, I had no way of taking myself out to Tastykake Land because I didn’t have a car. I was still waiting for the stupid insurance check to arrive.

Hey, hold the phone. I could walk to the convenience store. Four blocks. Not the sort of thing a Jersey girl ordinarily did, but what the hell. I had my gun back in my bag with two bullets ready and waiting. That was a confidence builder. I would have shoved it under the waistband of my jeans like Ranger and Joe, but there wasn’t room. Probably I should restrict myself to just one Tastykake.

I locked up and took the stairs to the first floor. I didn’t live in a fancy building. It was kept clean, and it was adequately maintained. It had been built without frills. And for that matter, without quality. Still, it was enduring. It had a back door and a front door and both doors opened to a small foyer. The stairs and the elevator also opened to the foyer. Mailboxes banked one wall. The floor was tiled. Management had added a potted palm and two wingback chairs in an attempt to compensate for the lack of a swimming pool.

Abruzzi was sitting in one of the wingback chairs. His suit was impeccable. His shirt was a brilliant white. His face was expressionless. He motioned to the wingback next to him.

“Sit down,” he said. “I thought we should have a conversation.”

Darrow was motionless at the door.

I sat in the chair, and I took the gun out of my bag, and I aimed it at Abruzzi. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Is that gun supposed to frighten me?”

“It’s a precaution.”

“Not good military strategy for a meeting of surrender.”

“Which one of us is supposed to be surrendering?”

“You, of course,” he said. “You’re soon to be taken as a prisoner of war.”

“News flash. You need serious psychiatric help.”

“I’ve lost troops because of you.”

“The rabbit?”

“He was a valued member of my command.”

“The bear?”

Abruzzi gave a distracted wave of his hand. “The bear was hired help. He was sacrificed for your benefit and my protection. He had an unfortunate habit of gossiping to people outside my family.”

“Okay, how about Soder. Was he troops?”

“Soder failed me. Soder had no character. He was a coward. He couldn’t control his own wife and daughter. He was a useless liability. Just like his bar. The insurance on the bar was worth more than the bar itself.”

“I’m not sure what part I play in all this.”

“You’re the enemy. You chose to be on Evelyn’s side in this game. As I’m sure you know, Evelyn has something I want. I’ll give you a last chance to survive. You can help me get back what’s rightfully mine.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Abruzzi looked down at my gun. “Two bullets?”

“That’s all I need.” Oh man, I couldn’t believe I just said that. I hoped Abruzzi left first because I probably just wet the chair.

“It’s war, then?” Abruzzi asked. “You should reconsider. You won’t like what’s going to happen to you. No more fun and games.”

I didn’t say anything.

Abruzzi stood and walked out the door. Darrow followed.

I sat in the chair for a while with the gun in my hand, waiting for my heart rate to drop back to normal. I stood up and checked the chair seat. Then I checked my seat. Both dry. It was a miracle.

Walking four blocks for a Tastykake had lost some of its appeal. Maybe it would be better to set my affairs in order. Aside from establishing a legal guardian for Rex, the only open end in my life was Andy Bender. I went upstairs to my apartment, and I called the office.

“I’m going after Bender,” I said to Lula. “Do you want to ride shotgun?”

“No way, Jose. You’d have to put me in a full contamination suit before I’d go anywhere near that place. Even then, I wouldn’t go. I’m telling you, God’s got something going on there. He’s got plans.”

I hung up with Lula, and I called Kloughn.

“I’m going after Bender,” I said to him. “Do you want to ride along?”

“Oh darn. I can’t. I’d like to. You know how much I’d like to do that. But I can’t. I just got a big case. A car crash, right in front of the Laundromat. Well, okay, it wasn’t exactly in front of the Laundromat. I had to run a few blocks to get to it in time. But I think there’s going to be some good injury.”

Maybe this is for the best, I told myself. Maybe at this point in time I’m better off doing the job alone. Maybe I would have been better off alone always. Unfortunately, I still don’t have handcuffs. And what’s worse, I don’t have a car. What I have is a gun with two bullets.

So I chose the only alternative left to me. I called a cab.

**********************

“WAIT HERE FOR me,” I told the driver. “I won’t be long.”

He cut his eyes to me, and then he looked out at the projects. “Good thing I know your father, or I wouldn’t sit here idling my engine. This isn’t exactly an upscale neighborhood.”

I had my gun in the black nylon webbed holster, strapped to my leg. I left my bag in the cab. I walked to the door and knocked.

Bender’s wife answered.

“I’m looking for Andy,” I told her.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m serious.”

“He’s dead. I thought you would have heard.”

For a moment my mind went blank. My second reaction was disbelief. She was lying. Then I looked beyond her and realized the apartment was clean, and there was no sign of Andy Bender. “I didn’t hear,” I said. “What happened?”

“Remember how he had the flu?”

I nodded.

“Well, it killed him. Turned out he had one of those superbugs. After you left, he got a neighbor to take him to the hospital, but it went into his lungs and that was that. It was an act of God.”

All the hair stood up on my arm. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, right,” she said. And she closed the door.

I walked back to the cab and slunk into the backseat.

“You’re awful white,” the driver said. “Are you okay?”

“Something bizarre just happened, but I’m fine. I’m getting used to bizarre things.”

“Now what?”

“Take me to Vinnie’s.”

**********************

I BURST INTO the bonds office. “You’re not going to believe this,” I said to Lula.

“Andy Bender is dead.”

“Get out. Are you shitting me?”

The door to Vinnie’s inner office whipped open. “Were there witnesses? Cripes, you didn’t shoot him in the back, did you? My insurance company hates that.”

“I didn’t shoot him at all. He died from the flu. I was just at his apartment. His wife told me he was dead. From the flu.”

Lula did the sign of the cross. “I’m glad I learned about this cross thing,” she said. Ranger was at Connie’s desk. He had a file in his hand, and he was smiling. “Did you just get out of a cab?”

“Maybe.”

The smile widened. “You went after an FTA in a cab.”

I rested my hand on my gun and blew out a sigh. “Don’t give me a hard time. I’m not having a great day, and as you know, I’ve got two bullets left. I might end up using them on one of us.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

“Yes.”

“I’m your man,” Ranger said.

Connie and Lula fanned themselves behind his back.

I climbed into the truck and looked around.

Ranger cut his eyes to me. “Are you looking for someone?”

“Abruzzi. He threatened me again.”

“Do you see him?”

“No.”

It’s not a long drive from the office to my apartment building. A couple miles. Progress is slowed by lights and occasionally traffic, depending on the time of day. I would have liked the drive to be longer today. I felt safe from Abruzzi when I was with Ranger. Ranger turned into my lot and parked. “There’s a man in the SUV by the Dumpster,”

Ranger said. “Do you know him?”

“No. He doesn’t live in the building.”

“Let’s talk to him.”

Ranger and I got out of the truck, walked to the SUV, and Ranger rapped on the driver’s side window.

The driver rolled the window down. “Yeah?”

“Waiting for someone?”

“What’s it to you?”

Ranger reached in, grabbed the guy by the front of his jacket, and pulled him halfway through the window.

“I’d like you to take a message to Eddie Abruzzi,” Ranger said. “Can you do that for me?”

The driver nodded.

Ranger released the driver and stepped back. “Tell Abruzzi he’s lost the war, and he should move on.”

We both had guns drawn, and we kept them steady on the SUV until it was out of sight. Ranger looked up at my window. “We’re going to stand here for a minute to give the rest of the team time to get out of your apartment. I don’t want to have to shoot anybody. I’m on a tight schedule today. I don’t want to get hung up filling out police forms.”

We waited five minutes and then went into the building and took the stairs. The secondfloor hall was empty. The keypad reported that security had been breached on my apartment. Ranger went in first and walked through. The apartment was empty. The phone rang just as Ranger was leaving. It was Eddie Abruzzi and he wasted no time with me. He asked for Ranger.

Ranger put him on the speakerphone.

“Stay out of this,” Abruzzi said. “This is a private matter between the girl and me.”

“Wrong. As of this moment, you’re out of her life.”

“So you’re choosing sides?”

“Yeah, I’m choosing sides.”

“You leave me no choice then,” Abruzzi said. “I suggest you look out the window, into the parking lot.” And he disconnected.

Ranger and I walked to the window and looked out. The SUV was back. It pulled up to Ranger’s truck with the bug-eyed lights, the guy in the passenger side lobbed a package into the truck bed, and the truck was instantly engulfed in flames. We stood there for a few minutes, watching the spectacle, listening to the sirens get closer.

“I liked that truck,” Ranger said.

**********************

BY THE TIME Morelli arrived it was after six and the remains of the truck were being hauled onto a flatbed. Ranger was finishing up police paperwork. He looked over at Morelli and gave him a nod of acknowledgment.

Morelli stood very close to me. “Do you want to tell me about this?” he asked.

“Off the record?”

“Off the record.”

“We had a tip that Evelyn was at Newark Airport. We drove to Newark and caught her before she boarded. After hearing her story I decided she needed to get on the plane, so I let her go. I had no reason to detain her anyway. I just wanted to know what this was about. When we got back, Abruzzi’s men were waiting. There were some words, and they torched the truck.”

“I need to talk to Ranger,” Morelli said. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

“If I could borrow your truck I’d get a pizza. I’m starved.”

Morelli gave me his keys and a twenty. “Get two. I’ll call it in to Pino’s for you.”

I pulled out of the lot and headed for the Burg. I turned at the hospital, and I checked my rearview mirror. I was being careful now. I was trying not to let my fear surface but it was boiling inside me. I kept telling myself it was only a matter of time before the police got something on Abruzzi. He was too flagrant. He was too wrapped up in his own craziness, playing the game. There were too many people involved. He’d killed the bear and Soder to keep them quiet, but there were others. He couldn’t kill everyone. I didn’t see anyone turn with me, but that was no guarantee. If more than one car is used it’s sometimes hard to spot a tail. Just to be safe, I had my gun out when I parked in the lot. I had just a short distance to go. Once I was inside I’d be okay. There were always a couple cops in Pino’s. I swung down from the truck and started for the door to the bar. I took two steps and a green van appeared from nowhere. It glided to a stop, the window rolled down, and Valerie looked out at me, her mouth duct-taped shut, her eyes wild with fear. There were three other men in the van, including the driver. Two of them wore full rubber masks: Nixon and Clinton again. Plus there was a guy in a paper bag with two eyes torn out. I guess the budget only covered two rubber masks. The Bag held a gun to Valerie’s head.

I didn’t know what to do. I was frozen. Mentally and physically paralyzed.

“Drop the gun,” the Bag said. “And slowly walk to the van, or I swear to God, I’ll kill your sister.”

The gun fell out of my hand. “Let her go.”

“After you get in.”

I reluctantly moved forward, and Nixon shoved me into the backseat. He duct-taped my mouth and wrapped tape around my hands. The van roared off, out of the Burg, across the river into Pennsylvania.

After ten minutes we were on a dirt road. Houses were small and sporadic, stuck into patches of woods. The van slowed and then stopped on the shoulder. The Bag opened the door and shoved Valerie out. I saw her hit the ground and roll, off the shoulder, into the brush at the side of the road. The Bag pulled the door shut and the van took off. Minutes later the van turned into a driveway and stopped. We all got out and went into a small clapboard bungalow. It was pleasantly decorated. Not expensive stuff, but comfortable and clean. I was directed to a kitchen chair and told to sit. A short while after I took my place, a second car crunched on the dirt and gravel outside. The bungalow door opened, and Abruzzi walked in. He was the only man not in a mask. He took a chair opposite me. We were close enough that our knees touched, and I could feel the heat from his body. He reached out and ripped the tape from my mouth.

“Where is she?” he asked me. “Where is Evelyn?”

“I don’t know.”

He hit me with an openhanded slap to the face that caught me off guard and knocked me off my chair. I was in shock when I hit the floor, too stunned to cry, too frightened to protest. I tasted blood, and I blinked tears away.

The guy in the Clinton mask hauled me up by my armpits and set me back on the chair.

“I’m going to ask you again,” Abruzzi said. “I’m going to keep asking you until you tell me. Each time you don’t answer I’m going to give you pain. Do you like pain?”

“I don’t know where she is. You give me too much credit. I’m not that good at finding people.”

“Ah, but you’re friends with Evelyn, aren’t you? Her grandmother lives next door to your parents. You’ve known Evelyn all your life. I think you know where she is. And I think you know why I want to find her.” Abruzzi got up and went to the stove. He turned the gas on, got a poker from the fireplace, and held it into the flame. He tested the poker with a drop of water. The water sizzled and evaporated. “What first?” Abruzzi said.

“Should we poke out an eye? Should we do something sexual?”

If I told Abruzzi Evelyn was in Miami, he’d go down there and find her. Probably he’d kill her and Annie. And probably he’d kill me, too, no matter what I said.

“Evelyn is on her way across the country,” I said. “She’s driving.”

“That’s the wrong answer,” Abruzzi said. “I know she boarded a plane for Miami. Unfortunately, Miami is a big place. I need to know where she’s staying in Miami.”

The Bag held my hands on the tabletop, the guy in the Nixon mask cut my sleeve away, then held my head, and Abruzzi held the hot poker to my bare arm. Someone screamed. I guess it was me. And then I fainted. When I came around I was on the floor. My arm felt like fire, and the room smelled like pot roast cooking.

The Bag dragged me to my feet and set me on the chair again. The most horrifying part to all this was that I honestly didn’t know where Evelyn was staying. No matter how much they tortured me, I couldn’t tell them. They’d have to torture me until I was dead.

“Okay,” Abruzzi said. “One more time. Where is Evelyn ?”

There was the sound of a motor revving outside, and Abruzzi paused to listen. The guy in the Nixon mask went to the window, and suddenly lights blazed through the curtains, and the green van crashed through the picture window in the front of the house. There was a lot of dust and confusion. I was on my feet, not sure where to go, when I realized Valerie was driving the van. I wrenched the side door open, threw myself inside, and yelled at her to go. She put the van into reverse, backed out of the house at about forty miles per hour, and careened out of the driveway.

Valerie still had her mouth and hands duct-taped together, but it wasn’t slowing her down. She barreled down the dirt road, hit the highway, and skidded onto the bridge approach. My fear now was that she’d dump us into the river if she didn’t slow down. There were chunks of wallboard stuck to the windshield wipers, the windshield was cracked, and the front of the van was smashed.

I ripped the tape off Valerie’s mouth, and she let out a howl. Her eyes were still wild, and her nose was running. Her clothes were torn and dirt-smudged. I yelled at her to ease off the gas, and she started to cry.

“Jesus Christ,” she said between sobs. “What the hell kind of a life do you lead? This isn’t real. This is fucking television.”

“Wow, Val, you said fuck.”

“Damn fucking right. I’m fucking freaked out. I can’t believe I found you. I just started walking. I thought I was walking back to Trenton, but I got turned around somehow. And then I saw the van. And I looked in the window and saw them burning you. And they’d left the keys hanging in the ignition. And… and I’m going to throw up.” She screeched to a stop at the side of the road, opened the door, and heaved. I took over the driving after that. I couldn’t take Valerie home in her present condition. My mother would have a plotz. I was afraid to go to my apartment. I didn’t have a phone, so I couldn’t get in touch with Ranger. That left Morelli. I turned into the Burg on the way to Morelli’s house, and on a long shot, went a block out of my way and drove past Pino’s.

Morelli’s truck was still there, plus Ranger’s Mercedes and the black Range Rover. Morelli, Ranger, Tank, and Hector were in the lot. I pulled the van in next to Morelli’s truck, and Valerie and I tumbled out.

“He’s in Pennsylvania,” I said. “In a house on a dirt road. He would have killed me, but Valerie drove the van into the house and somehow we got out.”

“It was fucking awful,” Valerie said, teeth chattering. “I was so fucking scared.” She looked down at her wrists, still wrapped in duct tape. “My wrists are taped together,” she said, as if it was the first she noticed.

Hector produced a knife and slit the tape, first on me and then on Valerie.

“How do you want to do this?” Morelli asked Ranger.

“Take Steph and Valerie home,” Ranger said.

Ranger looked at me, and our eyes held for a moment. Then Morelli slid an arm around me and eased me up, into his truck. Tank boosted Val up next to me. Morelli took us to his house. He made a phone call and some clean clothes appeared. His sister’s, I imagine. I was too tired to ask. We cleaned Val up and took her home to my parents. We made a fast stop at the hospital emergency room to have my burn bandaged, and then we went back to Morelli’s house.

“Stick a fork in me,” I said to Morelli, “I’m done.”

Morelli closed and locked his front door and turned the lights off. “Maybe you should consider taking a less dangerous job, like human cannonball or crash test dummy.”

“You were worried about me.”

“Yeah,” Morelli said, gathering me into him. “I was worried about you.” He held me close and rested his cheek on my head.

“I haven’t got any jammies with me,” I said to Morelli. His lips skimmed my ear.

“Cupcake, you’re not going to need any.”

**********************

I WOKE UP in Morelli’s bed with my arm burning like mad and my upper lip swollen. Morelli had me tucked in next to him. And Bob was on the other side of me. The alarm was buzzing on the clock beside the bed. Morelli reached out and knocked the clock off the nightstand.

“Gonna be one of those days,” he said.

He rolled out of bed and a half hour later he was dressed and in the kitchen. He was wearing running shoes and jeans and a T-shirt. He stood at the counter while he had coffee and toast. “Costanza called while you were in the bathroom,” he said, sipping his coffee, watching me over the rim of his mug. “One of the patrols found Eddie Abruzzi about an hour ago. He was in his car, in the farmer’s market parking lot. Looks like he killed himself.”

I stared at Morelli blank-faced. Not able to believe what I just heard.

“He left a note,” Morelli said. “It said he was depressed over some business deals.”

There was a long silence between us.

“It wasn’t a suicide, was it?” I phrased it as a question, when it was actually a statement.

“I’m a cop,” Morelli said. “If I thought it was anything other than a suicide I’d have to look into it.”

Ranger killed Abruzzi. I knew it as sure as I was standing there. Morelli knew it, too.

“Wow,” I said softly.

Morelli looked at me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded yes.

He drank the last of his coffee, and he put the mug in the sink. He pulled me in tight against him and he kissed me.

I said wow again. More feeling this time. Morelli really knew how to kiss. He took his gun from the kitchen counter and holstered it at his waist. “I’ll take the Ducati today and leave you the truck. And when I get off work we should talk.”

“Oh boy. More talk. That never gets us anywhere.”

“Okay, maybe we shouldn’t talk. Maybe we should just have sweaty sex.”

Finally, a sport I could enjoy.