Ten Big Ones

Eight

I opened my eyes and had a moment of panicky confusion. The room was dark and felt unfamiliar. The sheets were smooth and smelled like Ranger. And then it all clicked into focus. Again, I was the one who smelled like Ranger. I'd washed my hands and face before bed and the scent had lingered.

I switched the bedside light on and checked the time. It was almost eight a.m. My day hadn't even started, and already I was late. It was the bed, I decided. It was the best bed I'd ever slept in.

And, while I worried about Ranger returning, when I was in the apartment I felt safe from everything else. Ranger's apartment felt serene and secure.

I rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom. It was Friday.

Most people are happy on Friday because their workweek ends. I had the sort of job that never ended. Connie worked a half day on Saturday. Vinnie worked when he didn't have anything better to do.

We weren't sure when Lula worked. And I worked all the time.

Okay, so it wasn't always nine-to-five working. But it was always looking. Opportunities for capture popped up where you least expected at supermarkets, airports, shopping malls, and movie theaters.

And while on the subject of movie theaters, if I was a better bounty hunter I could probably take weekends off. When you botch a capture, like I did last night, you have to work twice as hard to make repairs. Pancek knew what I looked like now. And he knew I was after him.

I'd had plenty of opportunity to buy shower gel yesterday, but I'd conveniently forgotten. So now I had to once again use Rangers shower gel. What a hardship, eh? And then I had to dry off with one of his thick, superabsorbent towels. Another hardship I forced myself to endure. All right, I admit it, I was liking Rangers lifestyle.

And even more difficult to admit, I was liking the stolen intimacy.

I was going to have to say a lot of Hail Marys for that one.

And I was going to pay a price when Ranger returned. Even if I was long gone by the time he walked through his front door, even if I washed and ironed his sheets and replaced his shower gel, Ranger would know his home had been violated. The guy was a security expert. Probably there were cameras everywhere. Not in his apartment, I was guessing. But chances were good that there were cameras in the garage, the elevator, and his outer foyer. No one had come up to bust me, so I had to assume that either the cameras weren't monitored or else Ranger had been contacted and was allowing me to stay.

I got dressed in sneakers and jeans and a stretchy white scoop-neck T-shirt. I swiped some mascara on my lashes, and I headed for the kitchen. I dropped a handful of Frosted Flakes into Rex's food dish, and I poured out a bowl for myself. I was late so I didn't take time to make coffee. I needed to stop at the office first thing. I'd get coffee there.

I unplugged my phone, grabbed my short denim jacket and shoulder bag, and locked up behind myself. I took the elevator to the garage, suffering through the moment of fear when the elevator doors parted and I was exposed. Even if I'd been discovered on camera, I wanted to delay confrontation as long as possible. No sense pushing the issue and jeopardizing my tenancy.

I needed a place to stay, and I was already in trouble with Ranger.

Might as well get the most out of it, right?

I looked out and saw no one. I stepped out, the doors closed behind me, and I heard voices in the stairwell.

Ranger's two cars were directly in front of me. There were three black SUVs to my right. And there was a blue Subaru SUV and a silver Audi sedan to my left. I made an instinctive choice and jumped behind the Subaru, crouching low, hoping I was out of sight. I didn't know who had access to the garage, but I figured Rangers men would belong to the black SUVs.

The door to the stairwell opened, and Tank and two other men came out. All three got into one of the black SUVs and left the garage. I waited a couple beats before I scuttled across the floor, remoted the gate open, and made my escape.

The bonds office was on Hamilton, in the middle of the block. A one-lane alley ran behind the office, servicing a rear entrance and parking for two cars. I parked Ranger's truck on a side street, and I entered the office through the back door… just in case Morelli was on the prowl. I was in a mood to avoid the unpleasant.

'Uh oh,' Lula said when she saw me. 'It's never good when you gotta sneak in through the back.'

I went straight for the coffeepot. 'I'm being careful.'

'I can appreciate that,' Lula said. 'What's the plan for the day?' I need a different car. I can't blend in when I drive Ranger's truck.' To be more specific, I can't blend in when I park the truck for the night. Rangers men were constantly traveling the streets around the Bat Garage. I didn't want to take a chance on one of them spotting the truck. I was hoping you could follow me to my parents' house. I'm going to leave the truck in their garage. And then we can go car shopping.'

'Car shopping! I love car shopping.'

I added creamer and sipped some coffee. 'You're not going to love this land of car shopping. I have no money. I'm looking for a wreck.' I turned to Connie. 'And while we're on the subject of no money, as I'm sure you already know… Pancek ran off with my only cuffs.'

'Lula told me. Take a pair from the S and M box in the back when you leave.'

There used to be a thriving sex shop on Carmen Street. Rumor had it they were the biggest supplier of dildos, whips, and body chains for the tristate area. Nine months ago, the owner decided he was tired of paying his insurance premium to the mob and told his collection agent to take a hike. Shortly after that, the store mysteriously burned to the ground. An entire crate of cuffs came out of the fire almost completely unscathed, and Vinnie bought the crate on the cheap.

'How come you're going to leave the truck at your parents' house?' Lula wanted to know. 'Why don't you just give it back?'

'I thought I'd keep it a while longer, just in case. You never know when you might need a truck.' And I can't get into Ranger's apartment if I hand the keys back to Tank.

'A couple new skips came in this morning,' Connie said. 'I'll get the paperwork together later today, and you can pick the files up tomorrow.'

'I suppose after you get your new car you're going to want to go looking for Harold Pancek,' Lula said.

'I suppose I am.'

'And I suppose I should go with you since he's so slippery.'

I looked at the stack of files on the filing cabinet. At least a month's worth. 'What about the filing?'

'I can do the filing any old time. It's not like filings a matter of life or death. I got good priorities. I take our friendship seriously. When you're going out on these dangerous manhunts I feel an obligation to ride along and protect your skinny ass. Just 'cause a man looks like SpongeBob doesn't mean he can't turn violent.'

'You're pathetic,' Connie said to Lula. 'You'll do anything to get out of filing.'

'Not anything,' Lula said.

Ten minutes later, I had Ranger's truck safely tucked away in my parents' garage. My dad had retrieved Uncle Sander's Buick from the police and the Buick and Ranger's truck were now locked up together.

'What a nice surprise,' Grandma said when she saw me at the kitchen door.

'I can't stay,' I told Grandma and my mother. 'I just wanted to tell you I'm leaving Ranger's truck in the garage.'

'What about our car?' my mother wanted to know. 'Where's your father going to park the LeSabre?'

'You never use the garage. The LeSabre is always parked in the driveway. Look outside. Where is the LeSabre? In the driveway. I had to drive around it to get to the garage.'

My mother was cutting vegetables for soup. She stopped cutting and looked over at me, wide-eyed. 'Holy mother. There's something wrong, isn't there? You're in trouble again.'

'Did you steal the truck?' Grandma asked hopefully.

'I'm not in trouble, and there's nothing wrong. I told Ranger I'd take care of his truck while he's out of town. I was going to use it, but I've changed my mind. It's too big.'

My mother didn't really want to know the truth, I told myself. The truth wasn't good.

'It is big.' Grandma said. 'And you know what they say about the size of a man's truck.'

'I'm off,' I said. 'Lula's waiting for me.'

Grandma trotted after me. She stopped at the front door and waved at Lula. 'What are you girls doing?' Grandma asked. 'Are you chasing down a killer?'

'Sorry,' I said. 'No killers today. I'm going car shopping. I need something to tide me over until I get the insurance check from the Escape.'

'I'd love to go car shopping,' Grandma said. 'Wait a minute while I tell your mother and get my purse.'

'Wo,' I said. But she was already running around the house, gathering her things.

'Hey,' Lula yelled from the curb. 'What's the holdup?'

'Grandma's coming with us.'

'The Three Musketeers ride again,' Lula said. Grandma bustled out of the house and climbed into the Firebird's back seat. 'What have you got?' Grandma asked Lula.

'You got 50 Cent? You got Eminem?'

Lula slid Eminem into the slot, punched up the sound system, and we motored off like distant thunder.

'I've been thinking about your car problem,' Lula said, 'and I know a guy who's got cars to sell. He don't ask a whole lot either.'

'I don't know,' I said. 'If you buy a used car at a lot you usually get a guarantee.'

'How much do you want to spend?' Lula asked.

'A couple hundred.'

Lula slanted a look at me. 'And you want a guarantee for that kind of money?'

She was right. A guarantee was unrealistic. In fact, it was unrealistic to think I could find a car that actually ran for that kind of money.

Lula hauled out her cell phone, scrolled through the phone book, and dialed a number. 'I have a friend who needs a car,' she said when the phone connected. 'Un huh,' she said. 'Un huh, un huh, un huh.' She turned to me. 'Do you need a registration?'

'Yes!'

'Yeah,' Lula said into the phone. 'She'd like one of those.'

Isn't this fun,' Grandma Mazur said from the back seat. 'I can't wait to see your new car.'

Lula disconnected, turned out of the Burg, and headed across town. When we got to Stark Street Lula hit the automatic door locks.

'Don't worry,' Lula said. 'I'm just locking the doors for good measure. We aren't going into the bad part of town. Well, okay, maybe it's a bad part of town, but it's not the worst part of town. We're not going into gangland. This here is the part of town where the unorganized criminals live.'

Grandma had her nose pressed to the glass. 'I've never seen anything like this,' she said. 'Everything's got writing on it. And there's a building that's been all burned out and now it's boarded up. Are we still in Trenton? Does the mayor know about this? How about Joe Juniak? Now that he's a congressman he should be looking into these things.'

'I used to work on this street when I was a 'ho,' Lula said.

'No kidding?' Grandma said. 'Isn't that something. Are there any working ladies out now? I sure would like to see one.'

We kept a look out for working ladies but none turned up.

'Slow time of the day,' Lula said.

Lula made a right onto Fisher, went one block, and parked in front of a narrow two-story house that looked like it was decaying from the bottom up. Clearly it had once been part of a row of attached houses, but the houses on either side had disappeared and only their connecting walls remained. The lots had been mostly cleared of debris, but the landscaping was war zone. An occasional piece of pipe remained, mixed into smatterings of crushed rubble that hadn't made the last truck out. A nine-foot-high razor wire fence had been erected around each of the lots. Refrigerators, washing machines, gas grills, lawn furniture, and a couple ATVs, all with varying degrees of rust, were displayed in the one lot. The second lot was filled with cars.

These lots are owned by a guy named Hog,' Lula said. 'Besides the lots he's got a garage on the next block. He buys junker cars at auction, fixes them up enough to get them running, and then sells them to dummies like us. Sometimes he gets cars from other sources, but we don't want to talk about that.'

Those would be the cars without registration?' I asked.

'Hog can get a registration for any car you want,' Lula said. It's just you gotta pay extra for it.'

Grandma was out of the Firebird. Those lawn chairs with the yellow cushions look pretty nice,' she said. 'I might have to take a look at them.'

I jumped out after her and grabbed her by the purse strap. 'Don't leave my side. Don't wander off. Don't talk to anyone.'

A large guy with skin the color of hot chocolate and a body like a cement truck strolled over to us. 'Lula tells me somebody wants to buy a car,' he said. 'You be happy to know you came to the right place because we got some fine cars here.'

'We don't want too fine a car,' Lula said. 'We're sort of shopping for a bargain.'

'How much of a bargain?'

'Two hundred dollars and that includes plates and registration.'

'That don't even cover my overhead. I got expenses. I got middlemen.'

'Your middlemen are all in jail,' Lula said. 'The only expenses you got is filling your car with gas so you can drive over to the workhouse to pick up your sorry-ass relatives.'

'Ouch,' Hog said. 'That's nasty. You're getting me all excited.'

Lula gave him a smack on the side of the head.

'I love when you do that,' Hog said.

'Do you have a car, or what?' Lula said. 'Because we can go down the street to Greasy Louey.'

'Course I got a car,' Hog said. 'Don't I always have a car? Have I ever failed you?' He looked at Grandma and me. 'Which of you lovely ladies is buying this car?'

'Me,' I said.

'What color you want?'

'A two-hundred-dollar color.'

He turned and considered the motley collection of cars huddled together behind the razor wire. Two hundred dollars don't get you much of a car. Maybe you be better to rent a car from Hog.' He walked over to a silver Sentra. 'I just got this car. It needs some body work, but it's structurally sound.'

Needs some body work was a gross understatement. The hood was crumpled and attached to the car with duct tape. And the left rear quarter panel was missing.

The thing is,' I said to Hog, 'I need a car that blends in. People would notice this car. They'd remember that they saw a car with only three fenders.'

'Not in this neighborhood,' Hog said. 'We got lots of cars look like this.'

'Look at her,' Lula said. 'She look like she gonna spend a lot of time in this neighborhood?'

'How about this car?' Grandma called out from across the lot. 'I like this car.'

She was standing in front of a purple Lincoln Town Car that was about a block long. It had terminal rust creeping up from the undercarriage, but the hood was attached in the normal fashion, and it had all its fenders.

'You could put a whole pack of killers in this car,' Grandma said.

'I didn't hear that,' Hog said. 'Don't matter to me who you hang with.'

"We don't hang with them. We arrest them,' Grandma said. 'My granddaughter's a bounty hunter. This here's Stephanie Plum,' she said proudly. 'She's famous.'

'Oh crap,' Hog said, eyes bugged out. 'Are you shitting me? Get out of here. You think I want to die?' He craned his neck, looking beyond us, up and down the street. 'Not only would the brothers like to get hold of her, I hear they brought someone special in from the coast.' He scrambled behind a car, putting some distance between the two of us. 'Go away. Shoo.'

'Shoo? Lula said. 'Did I hear you say shoo?'

'Some Slayer ride by here I be a dead man,' Hog said. 'Get her off my lot.'

'We came here to buy a car, and that's what we're gonna do,' Lula said.

'Fine. Take a car,' Hog said. 'Take anything. Just go away.'

'We want this pretty purple car,' Grandma said.

Hog gave Grandma another of the bug-eyed looks. 'Lady, that's an expensive car. That's a Lincoln Town Car. That's no two-hundred-dollar car!'

'We wouldn't want to cheat you,' Lula said. 'So we'll just wander around awhile and see if we like something less expensive.'

'No. Don't do that,' Hog said. 'Take the friggin' Lincoln. I got the keys in the house. I'll just be a minute.'

'Don't forget the plates and the registration,' Lula said.

Five minutes later, I had a temporary plate taped to my rearview window, Grandma was strapped into the passenger seat, and Lula was a car length ahead of us, en route back to the office.

'I feel like a movie star in this car,' Grandma said. 'It's like a big limousine. Not everybody can afford a car like this, you know. It must have belonged to somebody special.'

A gangster or a pimp, I thought.

'And it rides real smooth,' Grandma said. I had to admit the ride was smooth. The car was about the same size as Sally's bus and took two lanes to make a corner, but the ride was smooth.

Lula and I parked in front of the bonds office, and we all got out to reorganize.

'Now what?' Lula said. 'Are we going after Harold Pancek?'

'Yeah,' Grandma said. 'Are we going after Harold Pancek?'

'Lula and I are going after Harold Pancek,' I said. 'I should take you home first.'

'No way! What if you need an old lady to quiet him down?'

My mother would cut me off from pineapple upside-down cake for the rest of my life if she knew I took Grandma on a bust. Then again, I'd just driven Grandma down Stark Street, so I was most likely screwed already.

'Okay,' I said. 'You can go with us, but you have to stay in the car.'

I felt obligated to say this but it was an empty demand because Grandma never stayed in the car. Grandma was always the first out of the car. I was taking her along because I really didn't think we were going to find Pancek at home. Pancek had been here for a couple years but hadn't seemed to put down roots. According to Connie's background search, Pancek's relatives and longtime friends were in Newark. I was guessing that after last night Pancek skipped back to Newark.

A gray late-model sedan drove by, hooked a U-turn in the middle of traffic, and parked behind the purple Lincoln. Morelli.

'Uh oh.' Lula said to me. 'You got that look.'

'What look is that?'

'That oh shit look. That's not a look from a woman who got some last night.'

'It's complicated.'

'I've been hearing that a lot lately,' Lula said.

Morelli got out of the car and walked over, looking like a cop who'd just gotten rear-ended. The anger was tightly controlled, and the gait was deceptively relaxed.

'Isn't this a nice coincidence,' Grandma said to Morelli. 'I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow night.'

Neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow, nor shoe sale at Macys could get me out of Saturday dinner with my parents. Like a spawning salmon, I was expected to return to my birthplace. Unlike a salmon, I didn't die, although sometimes I wished I could, and the migration took place weekly.

'I need to talk to Stephanie,' Morelli said with his best effort at a pleasant smile, his hand at my neck, his fingers curled into the back of my shirt to discourage escape.

'Gee, we were right in the middle of something,' I said. 'Can it wait?'

'Afraid not,' Morelli said. 'We need to talk now.'

I followed him to his car, and we stood with our backs to Lula and Grandma to keep them from eavesdropping.

'Gotcha,' Morelli said.

'Now what?'

'Now I take you back to my house and lock you in the bathroom. If you're real nice to me, I'll bring the television in for you.'

'You're not serious.'

'About the television? Afraid not, I've only got one, and I'm not lugging it up the stairs.'

I gave him one of those looks that said get real.

There's a contract on you,' Morelli said, 'and I ride by and see you standing here like a duck in a shooting gallery. A dead girlfriend doesn't do me much good.'

Well, at least he thought I was still his girlfriend. 'I was hoping the contract was just rumor.'

'My sources tell me there's a guy in town from LA. He goes by the street name Junkman, and it is widely believed he was brought in by the Slayers to take you out. From all reports, this is a very bad guy. Lots of talk about him. Virtually no useable information. At this point, we don't even have a description.'

'How do you know he's real?'

'The sources are good. And the brothers on the street are scared. Just so you don't feel too special, it appears you aren't the only one on his list. It's said to include a cop and two rival gang members.'

'Who's the cop?'

'Someone in gang intelligence. We don't have a name.'

'I think it's sweet of you to want to lock me in your bathroom, but it doesn't fit into my plans. And last time I was in your house we had a major disagreement over all this.'

Morelli ran a fingertip around the scoop neckline of my T-shirt.

'First of all, it wasn't much of a disagreement. A disagreement in my family involves restraining orders and bloodshed. Second, I like this little white T-shirt.' He hooked a finger into the neckline and looked inside.

'Excuse me?' I said.

'Just checking.' More of the smile.

'You wouldn't really lock me in your bathroom, would you?'

'Yep.'

That might be considered kidnapping.'

'Your word against mine.'

'And it's disgustingly arrogant and macho.'

'Yeah,' Morelli said. That's the best part.'

I looked back at Grandma and Lula. 'How do you expect to accomplish this?'

'I thought I'd drag you into my car and carry you kicking and screaming into my house.'

'In front of Grandma and Lula?'

'No,' Morelli said. 'I can't do it in front of your grandmother.'

The smile faded. 'Can we get serious? This isn't just rumor. These guys are out to get you.'

'What am I supposed to do? I live here. I can't go into hiding for the rest of my life.'

Morelli's pager buzzed, and he looked at the readout. 'I hate this thing,' he said. 'You're going to be careful?'

'Yes.'

'You're going to get off the street?'

'Yes.'

He gave me a fast kiss on the forehead and took off. Grandma and Lula watched Morelli drive away.

'I don't usually like cops,' Lula said, 'but he's hot.'

'He's a looker all right,' Grandma said. 'And he's got a way about him. There's nothing like a man with a gun.'

'He don't get his way from a gun,' Lula said. 'His way is natural born.'

I did some mental knuckle cracking and sidled up to the big purple Lincoln, hoping it would shield me from potential sniper fire. Morelli had done a good job of rattling my nerves. Stating the obvious to Morelli, that I lived in Trenton and couldn't hide for the rest of my life, wasn't a declaration made from bravery. It was a declaration tinged with desperation and maybe even a little hysteria. I was backed into a corner, the victim of circumstances.

And I was at a loss how to fix it. The best I could come up with on short notice was a temporary survival plan. Hide out in Rangers apartment at night. Search for Pancek by day. The Pancek search was a good thing because I suspected after our initial trip to Canter Street, the search would shift to Newark, far away from the Slayers.

'Everybody in the car,' I said. 'We're going on a Harold hunt.'

I docked the Lincoln in front of Pancek's row house, and we all got out and stood on the stoop while I rang the bell. There was no answer, of course. I rang again. I dialed his number on my cell phone. We could hear the phone ring on the other side of the door.

The machine picked up. I left a message.

'Hi, this is Stephanie Plum,' I said. 'I need to talk to you.' I left my cell number and disconnected.

I tried Pancek's next-door neighbor.

'He left early this morning,' she said. 'Must have been around seven. I went out to get the paper, and he was loading up his car. Usually you take grocery bags into the house, but he was taking them out.'

'Did he say anything?'

'No. But that wasn't unusual. He's sort of an odd guy. Not real friendly. Lived in there all alone. I never saw anyone else go in. Guess he didn't have a lot of friends.'

I left my card with her, and I asked her to call if Pancek returned.

'Now what?' Grandma wanted to know. 'I'm ready to catch this guy. Where do we go next?'

'Newark. His family is in Newark.'

'I don't know if I can go with you,' Grandma said. 'I'm supposed to go to the mall with Midgie Herrel at one o'clock.'

I took Route 1 to Route 18 and got on the Jersey Turnpike.

Grandma was home, waiting for Midgie. Sally, Valerie, and my mom were busy planning the wedding. Lula was sailing along with me in the purple Lincoln, riding shotgun, nosing through a big bag of food we bought before leaving Trenton.

'What do you want first?' she asked. 'You want a sandwich or a Tastykake?'

'The sandwich.' We had about forty Tastykakes. We couldn't choose which kind we wanted, so we got a bunch of everything. I have a cousin who works at the Tastykake factory in Philadelphia, and she said they make 439,000 Butterscotch Krimpets a day. I intended to eat three of them when I was done with the sub. And maybe I'd follow them up with a coconut layer cake. It's important to keep your strength up on a manhunt.

By the time we got to Newark, Lula and I had almost emptied the food bag. My jeans were feeling unusually tight and my stomach felt seasick. I suspected the queasy stomach was more fear of death than overeating. Still, it would have been good if I'd stopped after the third Tastykake.

Pancek's mother had posted the bond. I had her address plus the address of Pancek's former apartment. I knew Pancek drove a dark blue Honda Civic, and I had his plate number. It would be nice to find the Civic parked in front of one of the addresses.

Lula was reading a map, directing me through Newark. 'Turn left at the next corner,' she said. 'His mommas house is on the first block, two houses in on the right side.'