Disclaimer: All of the characters and settings belong to Janet Evanovich. The dialogue from the meeting between Ranger and Stephanie is taken straight from One for the Money (pp. 30-36).

I hate owing people favors. Even little ones. Which is why I try to settle my debts as soon as possible. Unfortunately I didn't settle up fast enough with the receptionist at the bonds office I currently work for. She'd given me a little assistance uncovering the whereabouts of a skip thanks to some of her more interesting family connections. I thought we'd be even if I upped the flirting a little and gave her a cut of the money. Should've known she was smarter than that.

I tossed the body receipt on her desk. "Thanks for the help," I said turning to leave.

She cleared her throat slightly. "You owe me for this one, Ranger."

I turned and looked at her, both of us wearing our poker expressions. I pulled out my wallet and dropped some cash on her desk. She stared at it a moment before sliding it back toward me with a little smile. "Keep your money. I'll let you know when I'm ready to settle up."

I tried to read her expression searching for signs of what she was really after. Obviously, she wanted something other than money. Hopefully it wasn't sex. I didn't do the whole relationship scene, and the bounty hunting gig was a good fit for me right now. I didn't need things to get all screwed up because of a one night stand with the receptionist. Guess I'd have to wait this one out and see what she had in mind.

"Later Connie," I said as I slipped out the door.

I got my answer about a month later. I was in the middle of wrangling a guy to the ground when I heard my pager go off. It was the number for the bonds office. Either Vinnie wanted to talk or it was finally time to settle up with Connie.

After dropping my skip by the station, I made a call to the office.

Connie answered on the second ring. "Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. What dilemma can I help you sort out today?" She sounded a little bored.

"Yo," I said. "It's me."

I could sense a small smile on the other end. "I was wondering when you'd call back."

"Vinnie need to talk with me?"

"Nope." There was a brief moment of silence. "As I recall, you still owe me a favor." She seemed almost giddy at the prospect. Must be one hell of a favor.

I tried to throw off her excitement with being a little overly cordial. "Consider it already done."

"I was hoping you'd say that. As I'm sure you remember, Morty Byers has been out with his whole appendix problem, which has left us a little under staffed here lately. A girl I know from high school dropped by the other day looking for work. Must be a relative of Vinnie's because the fool actually gave her a skip."

"Not seeing how this involves me," I cut in. Actually, I saw exactly how this was going to involve me. Connie was probably minutes away from laughing her ass off.

"She needs a bit of a crash course on how to be a big bad bounty hunter. Can't think of anyone better suited for the job."

I'd say anybody would be better suited for the job. I wasn't exactly known for my overabundance of patience. Especially dealing with some silly Jersey girl who got a thrill from pretending to be a leather-clad badass. But if this was how Connie wanted to waste her favor, then who was I to stop her? This whole crash course would probably be wrapped up in an hour or two. I'd give her another 24 hours on the job before she threw in the towel and ran home crying. This was going to be a piece of cake.

"This girl have a name?" I asked feeling the corner of my mouth twitch in amusement.

"Stephanie Plum. She'll meet you at the café in half an hour."

"That's it then? We're all settled up?"

"All settled up. But Ranger," she added. "No trying to get out of this by scaring the hell out of her. We could really use the extra help around here. And I kind of like her. So don't go walkin' in there dressed like the bogeyman, got it?"

"I'll see what I can do." No bogeyman. Didn't mean I couldn't wear some of my more intimidating street clothes. Maybe a hint of chrome and terrifying weaponry. She'd probably take one look at me and make a run for the exit.

"Later Connie." I ended the call. Despite my best efforts, I stood grinning like an idiot. This was going to be fun.

A half hour wasn't very long to get ready. Especially since I kinda wanted to know a little more about this chick. Stephanie Plum, huh? I called one of my guys to see what he could pull up while I changed clothes. He called back as I was heading out the door.

Mostly Stephanie Plum was a nobody. Thirty years old, graduated college, got married, got divorced, no kids. Grew up in Trenton. Lived by herself. Last job was as a lingerie buyer in Newark. Whatever the hell that was. Company was bought out due to some shady business dealings, and apparently she was kicked to the curb in the turnover.

She had a lot of family in the area. A few interesting names, but no one really to get excited about. Apparently she was some sort of cousin to Vinnie. What the hell could she be thinking with the whole bounty hunter thing? She must really be desperate.

I got to the café ten minutes early and chose a booth that gave me a decent view of the whole place, my focus mainly on the entrance. On the drive over I'd kind of made a deal with myself. From the looks of it, Stephanie Plum had absolutely no business being in the bounty hunting business. I'd created a mental numeric scale of sorts. If she managed to get five points or higher, I'd take her under my wing for a while. See if she could make it past the first take-down. Less than that, and I'd open her eyes to some of the real dangers of skip hunting. All the bloody, horrifying, and gruesome details.

She showed up five minutes late, but considering I was still riding the tail end of a good mood, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. After a few seconds glancing around the place, her eyes settled on me sitting in the booth. I gave her a subtle head nod and motioned her to come join me. Even from a distance I noticed her cheeks were flushed and her skin was glistening with perspiration. My guess is the rotted out car she pulled up in didn't have a fully functioning air conditioning system.

She flopped herself down in the seat across from me, and I took a moment to look her over. She had a cute face, unruly curls for hair, and a body that probably would look better in a different outfit. Her form was feminine but definitely not fragile. Even so, I highly doubted her ability to take down a full-grown human, not to mention an angry and/or belligerent one. Guess she'd be relying on some quick-thinking skills to make up for her obvious lack in brute strength. Hopefully she had quick-thinking skills.

I wasn't sure why she was wearing the suit. Maybe she assumed this was like an interview or something, but I'd always been told to know the job you're applying for and dress appropriately. Although I'd probably pay money to see her try and take down hardened criminals in this get-up, it would mostly be for the humor factor. The suit looked wrinkled and uncomfortable, and she walked like the shoes pinched her toes. Not the best attire for tracking skips. Improperly dressed: -1.

Given her appearance, I was a little surprised that she hardly reacted to mine. Didn't make a face, didn't flinch. Heck, she didn't even bat an eye. And I looked pretty darn intimidating. I'd made sure of that. And yet here she sat, completely unfazed. Apparent fearlessness: +1.

Enough of the sizing each other up. It was time for the real fun to begin.

"Sooooo," I started. "Connie says I'm supposed to make you into a badass fugitive apprehension agent. She says you need to get the crash course." It was time to find out how serious little miss Stephanie was about this line of work. Time to start digging into her true motives. "What's the rush?"

She turned her attention toward the parking lot. "You see the brown Nova at the curb?"

Hard to miss that hunk of scrap metal, but I humored her anyway. "Uh huh."

"That's my car."

It was an unfortunate vehicle. A real automotive POS. But that was hardly a reason to start hunting skips. There were better ways to make some quick cash. Something else was motivating her.

"So you need money. Anything else?" I pried.

She shifted slightly. "Personal reasons."

And there it was. What do you wanna bet that she wanted to stick it to someone in the system? Maybe it was some chick who stole her boyfriend in school, or maybe it was a guy who got her all riled up and conveniently forgot to call. Either way, her motives weren't very promising: -1.

"Bond enforcement is dangerous business," I reminded her. "Those personal reasons better be pretty f-ing good."

She looked me over and decided to turn the tables. "What are your reasons for doing this?"

Nice diversion: +1.

I shrugged. "It's what I do best." My answer amused her.

"Maybe someday I'll be good at this too."

I almost openly laughed at that, but caught myself before doing so. It seemed like she was being sincere. Interesting. Focused on self-improvement and growth potential: +1.

"Right now my motive is steady employment."

Ok, she wants a quick paycheck. Maybe the bill collectors are getting a little creative. I get it. Wonder whose bond made her think this would all be worth it. Only a handful came to mind. "Vinnie give you a skip?"

"Joseph Morelli."

Damn. I couldn't help myself this time. It was too funny not to laugh about. Vinnie gave her Morelli? That guy's got a seriously warped sense of humor.

"Oh man! Are you kidding me? You aren't gonna get that dude. This isn't some street punk you're going after. This guy's smart. And he's good. You know what I'm telling you?"

Her attention shifted to my biceps. "Connie says you're good."

Does she now? Wonder what else she says about me. Probably nothing good. Still, the flattery was nice: +1. I continued to watch Stephanie. Maybe this was all an elaborate set-up. Too bad this girl was looking pretty serious.

If she'd meant what she'd said, I knew where she was going with all this. She was hoping if she was trained by the best, then she'd suddenly morph into the Karate Kid: a non-skilled nobody instantly turned Jet Li. Hate to break it to you, babe, but that's Hollywood. This is Jersey.

I already knew she wasn't going to make the cut, so I decided to try and break it to her easy. "There's me, and then there's you, and you aren't ever going to be as good as me, Sweet Thing."

I half-expected her shoulders to slump in disappointment. Or a frown to sneak across her cute little mouth in defeat. Instead, her eyes got a touch of fire behind them. It kind of caught me off guard.

"Let me make my position clear to you," she said leaning forward. The intensity of her now flaming blue eyes was starting to turn me on. I was caught in a trance, completely unable to look away. "I'm out of work. I've had my car repossessed, my refrigerator is empty, I'm going to get kicked out of my apartment, and my feet don't fit in these shoes. I haven't got a lot of energy to waste socializing. Are you going to help me or what?"

Well, damn. She'd called my bluff. I'd totally forgotten about the point tally the moment those fierce blue eyes came into play. Talk about an ace up the sleeve. I'd made up my mind to help her; she'd probably sensed that. Still, I wasn't about to waste a perfectly good opportunity for some free entertainment.

"This is gonna be fun," I grinned. "This here's gonna be like Professor Higgins and Eliza Doolittle Does Trenton."

Stephanie mused for a moment over the reference. So I like My Fair Lady? Big whoop. Besides, the analogy is beyond perfect. From what I can tell, Stephanie Plum is going to be learning the bond enforcement trade from ground zero. Talk about your school of hard knocks. What do you bet she's never even fired a gun before?

She interrupted my thoughts with a simple question. "What do I call you?"

I couldn't tell if she was being snarky, but I decided to take the question at face value. Best to keep things simple. "My street name. Ranger."

I reached across the table to grab the paperwork she'd brought from Vinnie. Time to see just how deep the shit was that I'd gotten myself into. Maybe if I was lucky, she might have already started some of the groundwork. Never hurts to be optimistic, right?

"You do anything on this yet?" I asked while reading. "You check out his apartment?"

She brightened a little. Cute. Maybe she'd found herself a little lead. "He wasn't there, but I got lucky and found him in an apartment on State Street. I got there just as he was leaving."

So she already had eyes on this guy. Maybe she wasn't going to be so bad after all. "And?"

She shrugged. "He left."

There goes that thought. "Shit, didn't anybody tell you that you were supposed to stop him?"

She frowned a little. Probably wasn't overly amused by my sarcasm. "I asked him to come to the police station with me, but he said he didn't want to."

She couldn't possibly be serious, could she? She asked him to come to the police station? I felt the unavoidable urge to laugh again. She probably even said please. Holy moly, this chick was a freaking riot! At least I wouldn't be lacking in entertainment while showing her the ropes.

"I don't suppose you've got a gun?" I asked still grinning. I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.

"You think I should get one?"

It might be negotiable if she had a tiny flame-thrower hidden somewhere in that purse of hers. But I had a feeling she probably didn't.

"Might be a good idea," I said holding back another laugh. I restacked the papers and put them back in the file once I'd finished reading through them. I knew there was a reason I didn't want to mess with this case. Guess it was time to lay it all out there and see if she still wanted to play with the big boys.

"Morelli offed a guy named Ziggy Kulesza. Used his personal piece to put a .45 hydroshock between Ziggy's eyes at close range." I glanced over at her waiting for a look of disgust. "You know anything about guns?"

"I know I don't like them."

Figures. Guns definitely weren't just some cute little accessories. Glad she already understood that. In fact, they could do some very serious damage. Probably about time Miss Plum got a better idea of just how much damage they could do. "A .45 hydroshock goes in nice and neat, but when it comes out it makes a hole the size of a potato. You end up with brains all over the place. Ziggy's head probably exploded like an egg in a microwave."

I watched her squirm a little at that last statement. "Gee, I'm glad you shared that with me."

Man, this chick was fun. I couldn't help but smile. "I figured you'd want to know."

I leaned back and crossed my arms casually. This meeting was surprisingly more enjoyable than I had been anticipating. Connie was going to be sorely disappointed.

"You know any of the background on this case?" I asked.

Of course, I'd already gleaned what I needed to know from the file, but I wanted to see what she was able to pick up. Make sure she knew how to pay attention to the details.

She spouted off the report specifics: Morelli claimed to have been at the apartment complex on police business. He was meeting with Carmen Sanchez, but she wasn't there. Kulesza opened the door instead and drew a gun. Morelli claimed to have shot him in self-defense. No one actually saw the exchange between Morelli and Kulesza, but the neighbors heard the shot go off. Someone subdued Morelli until the cops showed up. No Carmen, no gun on Ziggy, and there'd been a rumored third party that magically disappeared. The physical evidence made Morelli look guilty as hell.

I was a little impressed how quickly she absorbed all the basics of the case. But I was also starting to see a possibility for what she claimed were her personal reasons. Morelli had a reputation around town for being pretty popular with the ladies. Starting to wonder just how well he knows Stephanie.

She'd done alright with the details; at least for a newbie. Maybe she'd done some additional digging on Morelli or Kulesza. "You know anything else?"

"That's about it."

Guess it was time to tell her some of what I knew. "The guy Morelli shot worked for Benito Ramirez. The name mean anything?"."

She thought for a moment. "Ramirez is a boxer."

"More than a boxer. He's an f-ing wonder. Heavyweight. The biggest thing to happen to Trenton since George shafted the Hessians. Trains in a gym on Stark Street. Ziggy used to stick to Ramirez like white on rice. Sometimes Ziggy'd do some sparring. Mostly Ramirez kept him on as a gofer and a bodyguard."

I watched her process the information. "There any word on the street about why Morelli shot Kulesza?"

She was headed in the right direction. Starting to ask the right questions. "None. But Morelli must have had a good reason. Morelli's a cool guy, and if a cop wants to pop someone, there are ways."

"Even cool cops make mistakes."

"Not like this, babe. Not Morelli."

"So what are you telling me?" I could see the light start to flicker on. I think the money wasn't sounding quite so easy anymore.

"I'm telling you to be careful." And maybe it's time to start thinking about more suitable employment options. She looked conflicted, and yet still determined. Maybe I could still persuade her to let all this go.

"You still want to tag him?" I could sense a small shred of doubt. "If you don't do it, someone else will. That's something you got to learn. And you got no business making judgments. You just do your job, and bring the man in. Got to trust the system."

No one trusted the system. I could tell she'd have a problem with that. She'd want to do the right thing. That wouldn't always play out well in the system.

"Do you trust in the system?" I liked how she was subtly trying to figure me out. It's like she somehow knew all of this was a mask. A mask I wore flawlessly. Yet she still sensed there was more underneath it all. Interesting.

"Beats the shit out of anarchy."

"There's a lot of money involved here. If you're so good, why didn't Vinnie give Morelli to you? Why did he originally give him to Morty Byers?"

It was a good amount of money, but the case was a mess. It obviously went deeper than a bad situation with a cop. And I wasn't interested in wading through the mud even if there was a decent payday at the other end.

"Vinnie moves in mysterious ways."

"Anything else I should know about Morelli?"

Yep. Last trick up my sleeve. "If you want your money, you better find your man fast. Rumor has it the judicial system is the least of his problems."

The subtle implications weren't lost on her. "Are you telling me there's a contract out on him?" She looked a little surprised.

I made my hand into a gun and fired it. "Bang."

"You sure about this rumor?"

"Just repeating what I heard." Hopefully every frightening scene from the Godfather series was flashing through her mind. Along with the thought that those things could happen to her if she got mixed up in all of this.

"The plot thickens." Shit. My plan backfired. Somehow I'd made her more interested in the case.

"Like I said before, you don't care about the plot. Your job is simple. Find the man, bring him in." Don't go all Nancy Drew. You'll wind up with too many questions. And maybe even a one-way ticket to the pearly gates.

"Do you think I can do it?"

Honestly? "No."

The fire flashed again behind her eyes. Damn, they were captivating.

"Will you help me anyway?"

"Long as you don't tell nobody. Wouldn't want to tarnish my image by looking like a good guy."

She didn't acknowledge the subtle joke. All her attention was focused on the case. "Okay, where do I begin?"

Great question. Guess it wouldn't hurt to start with the right tools of the trade. "First thing we need to do is get you outfitted. And while we collect your hardware, I'm gonna tell you about the law."

She made a face. "This isn't going to be expensive, is it?"

"My time and knowledge are coming to you free of charge because I like you, and I always wanted to be Professor Higgins." Not to mention I owed Connie that favor. "But handcuffs cost $40 a pair. You got plastic?"

I'd never tell her, but I would've bought her equipment myself. Especially since I half expected her to turn in her gear by the end of the week. Maybe the end of the month tops. Funny how first impressions can be so completely wrong.