Halloween is the best holiday ever invented by the human imagination. Christmas is warm and joyful, Thanksgiving is full of amazing food and love and Valentine's Day just makes you look at the person you're with and feel all those sparks all over again. Yeah, right. Christmas is usually full of fighting, Thanksgiving is just plain stressful and fattening and don't get me started on the horrible trap of pain and despair known as Valentine's Day. Halloween shouldn't be called a holiday. It is so much more.

It is a month just made for mystery and scary stories. The leaves are changing, the air is crisp and the tourists, if Jersey had any, are gone. Change is in the air and you should know from experience that the change isn't a good thing, but it always make you hopeful. You want to be surprised and scared. You want mystery. You want that feeling that anything is possible. Vampires stalk at night, werewolves prowl on a full moon and ghosts still haunt the houses where they met their horrible end. But most of all the month of October ends in a celebration where people can be anyone they want.

That drab secretary you see everyday is actually a Mistress of the Night and you better obey. The well mannered office boy who is so prompt with your mail is a monstrous werewolf in disguise, who would have thought? And that police officer that lives down the street? Yeah, he's really the most notorious mobster of all time, dressed to the nines in a zoot suit and fedora.

I was always too imaginative, according to my mom. I dreamed big…and sometimes gory. I loved October and Halloween. In fact, I loved it so much that I would dress up for it on any holiday that my mom didn't stop me before hand. I have been a vampress, Mr. Hyde (I actually convinced Valerie to be Dr. Jekyll) and a dead soldier, battle wounds included. I was once a robot and I have even tried to be the Sultan of a small country.

I loved pretending. I loved the freedom of being in a disguise. And more than anything, I loved that for one night I really was the Queen of the Undead or mummy straight out of Egypt. My mother was fit to be tied with me.

And she still is. Just for many more reasons.

For one thing, I am a bounty hunter. In more polite society, they now use the term Fugitive Apprehension Agent. Same difference. I'm a skip tracer. I find people that the cops can't. It sounds pretty bad ass, doesn't it? Its really more about just knowing your turf and understanding how people think. I have good instincts and even better friends that always seem to be willing to assist in my insanity. Unfortunately, I also have a tendency to get into situations that no one could possibly imagine.

There is an entire betting pool at the local precinct devoted to my cars. Yup, that's your tax dollars hard at work.

The man who taught me how to survive this mess I call a job is Ricardo Carlos Manoso. Street name, Ranger. He is the resident sex god and probably the one man in the city that scares the hell out most of the criminals. He's mysterious, he's dangerous and right now, he is incredibly good for my health. He has a constant stream of mouthwatering cars that have all the cops sure that he is doing something very illegal, but naturally there is no proof. Ranger actually owns a company, Rangeman (Ranger Manoso, get it? Yeah, it took me a while, too) that he keeps on the DL. It would ruin his street cred if everyone knew that he didn't sleep on a dirt floor and eat sticks for breakfast. In fact, his only listed address is a vacant lot.

And for the last five months, he has been my boyfriend. That's really just a technical term. I have no idea what most would call us but it isn't like any other relationship I have ever been included in. It's killing my mother that neither of us are looking for a cream wedding (after all, it just wouldn't be proper for a divorcee to wear white! Gasp!) or children for that matter. Hey, I've seen how exhausted my sister is. I just don't feel the need to procreate. I'm not 'burg and I love it.

The 'burg is officially labeled Chambersburg and it is a small town smack dab in the middle of Trenton, New Jersey. Yep, the state of attitude and landfills. The 'burg isn't just a place, it's a way of life. The 'burg is getting married fresh out of high school, popping out half a dozen kids before you're thirty then guilting them for the rest of their lives. The men work hard and the women keep house. Women stand by their men no matter what or who their doing and they are expected to cook a mean coffee cake. Change doesn't happen often in the 'burg.

My name is Stephanie Michelle Plum and as my sometimes live in lover tells me, I thrive by not doing what is expected of me. I went to college instead of getting knocked up. I finally caved and got married, then quickly divorced when I found my soon-to-be ex-husband playing doctor with that skank Joyce Barnhart on my ruined dining room table. I blackmailed my pervert for a cousin Vinnie into a bounty hunter job instead of the obvious choice of the button factory after I got laid off at EE Martins. I befriend my skips on a regular basis and two of my best friends are, respectfully, a gay street lawyer and a former 'ho. Honestly, I see nothing on that list that is unusual but that's probably the part that has my mother tippling more often than she should and ironing the drapes.

This morning started with me rolling out of my empty bed (my bedmate wakes up hours earlier than me) and slipping into my shower. Showering is kind of an addiction for me. It's relaxing, cleansing and the perfect environment to think in. What's not to love? And best of all, you smell better getting out than when you stepped out. I did the bathroom stuff and found my usual uniform of jeans and a t-shirt. Throwing on a pair of Doc Martins, I was ready to go. The October morning was gorgeous and I was cheerful until I walked to my parking place and found my car missing. Well, crap. I flipped out my cell phone and punched in a number.

"Andrew Carson's office, how can assist you?" The polite and bored voice of Deedra, Andy's office assistant, greeted me.

"Yo, Deedra. Is Andy in?" Deedra is a veteran of the streets. At twenty-one, she has seen stuff that could turn an average person's hair white. She is a former prostitute and an old skip and damn protective of her boss. He helped me befriend her and he won her heart over. I'm pretty sure that she would kill for him and there is no doubt that she would die for him.

"Oh, yeah, hang on a sec though, Steph, he's on the phone with the mayor." Andy had started his own law practice to help the poor and homeless about five months ago and he was a busy cookie. He could get shit done and he did it in a way that people thought it was their idea all along. He had three centers being planned out right now and half a dozen shelters being converted. The boy could move mountains and he was only twenty five. Give him a few years and he could rule the world. He's also my upstairs neighbor, so it comes in handy. "Something wrong, girl?" I sighed and told her maybe.

"Oh, he's off. Talk to you later, chica." I heard a click.

"Hey, sis, what's up?" When we met, we hit it off and I told him that he felt like the brother my parents cheated me out of. We got kidnapped together by a dirty cop in a Darth Vader suit and to calm one of our fellow captives, he explained that we were Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia and we were going to kick butt. Ever since, he has called me sis as a private joke.

"Hey, was my car in the lot this morning?"

"Um, yeah. It was parked next to my car."

"Positive?"

"Yeah, I almost scratched the door pulling out. Why?"

"Because it's gone now."

"Damn."

"Yeah."

"I left around six this morning."

"I guess I had better call Mia."

"Good luck with that. She hates when you get in jams." We signed off. He was improving rapidly with his phone manners. I started to dial Mia's number but I speed dialed one first.

"Yo."

"Yo yourself. I've got a problem."

"Yeah?"

"My car is missing."

"Missing?"

"As in, not in the lot and I didn't move it."

"Only you, babe. Need a ride?"

"Nah, I'll Mia to give me a ride when I file my report."

"I'll bring dinner."

"Pino's?"

"I was thinking Indian."

"Great, bring on the curry. See you tonight."

Mia was less than thrilled to hear my cheerful good morning,

"What happened?"

"Why does something have to have happened?"

"Because we have a date for shopping on Saturday. You wouldn't have called unless something had happened and something always happens."

"My car is missing."

"As in it went out and you didn't want it to or it just got kidnapped?" I rolled my eyes at the mommy analogy.

"As in, my car isn't where I left it and as you just pointed out, shit happens to me." She sighed.

"I'll be right over."