Disclaimer: I am not Janet Evanovich and I am not making money off this story. I own the OCs and the plot.
When you were a kid, did you ever dream of what your future would be like? You know the dream wedding, the dream husband, the dream house. The whole shebang. You know what I mean? Well, while my sister Valerie was doing all that and acting it out with Barbies, I was dreaming of saving the world. Not like in a Go Green, Let's Recycle kinda way but in an Intergalactic Princess, superhero kinda way. I didn't care that most super heroes were men, I was one.
I wasn't just a little sidekick like Bat Girl or whatever her face was, I was Wonder Woman. I was Princess Leia. Heck, a couple of times I was probably Catwoman. She was pretty kick ass, huh? I never wondered who my Han Solo was going to be, I just knew that he would eventually find me. Besides, Princess Leia was way too busy to worry about her future husband. She just was. I mean, its all going to work out anyway, right? Why not have some fun first?
Well, Valerie grew up and put her plans to work. She got her dream wedding and her dream husband and her dream house. She got her 2.5 kids and a white picket fence out in California. Mom was so proud. And what was I? I was the disappointment. I was the one who was rushed to the hospital with a broken arm when I wanted to learn to fly off the garage. I chose to go to college instead of get married. I was always the one who didn't fit the 'burg life.
The 'burg is also known as Chambersburg, a big neighborhood in Trenton, New Jersey. Not a bad place to grow up. It's like a small town in the middle of the city. It's safe, it's familiar and some things are just expected. Men go to work, support their nice, normal families for twenty or so years until everyone is out of the house then they retire. Women are expected to marry respectably, pop out a bunch of nice, Italian babies and keep their homes tidy. And the world keeps spinning.
Well, the expectations caught up with me. I mean, Val was happy, right? And mom was so proud of her. I finally gave in and married a nice lawyer named Dickie. Maybe that should have been my first warning. It was a wedding that should have been the talk of the 'burg for years to come. The entire 'burg was there, it was enormous. It seemed so perfect and I got washed away into it. I forgot the little girl who dreamed of being an Intergalactic Princess and I forgot my child's self assurance that my Han Solo would just come to me. I was supposed to be happy and mom was finally proud of me.
All that ended when I came home to find my brand new husband doing the nasty, and I do mean nasty, with that slut Joyce Barnhart on my brand new dining room table. The ink was still wet on our marriage license. It became the divorce of the century.
My name is Stephanie Plum and I am a fugitive apprehension agent, commonly known as a bounty hunter. I kind of fell in to this line of work. Okay, I blackmailed my cousin Vinnie into giving me a job when I was desperate for cash. I'm not quite a superhero but I'm working on it.
I have two incredible men in my life. The first is Joe Morelli. He was always trouble, but in a good way. When I was six and he was eight, he snuck me into the dirty, old garage behind his house to teach me Choo-choo. I asked him when it was my turn to be the train when he had his head stuck up in my skirt. Mom always warned me about being around Morelli. That shows you something about my curiosity and about how much I listen to my mom. Morelli was my teenage crush, trust me, I was not alone there and he was the first one to, you know. He came into the Tasty Pastry when I was 16 and seduced me behind the cannoli counter. He left with a smirk and my panties. After that, all of Trenton knew what had happened. No, not because we did it in a store, which is nearly public but because Morelli couldn't keep it to himself. He wrote about it in bathroom stalls from Pino's to the locker room. When I was 17, I broke his leg with my Uncle Salvitor's Buick. Joe Morelli wasn't in my life for a while after that. He came back into it as my first, real FTA. That means he was Failure to Appear for his court date. He was a cop arrested for a murder he didn't commit. I solved the murder, attracted a stalker who nearly killed me and cleared Joe's name. Eventually, he became my on-again, off-again boyfriend. We are currently in the off-again part and he is undercover somewhere.
The other man in my life is Ricardo Carlos Manoso. His street name is Ranger. Ranger is tough, dangerous and pretty scary. He is also damn good at what he does. He is a bad ass bounty hunter. He is also my mentor, tormentor and my one time lover. As he put it, he is Henry Higgins to my Eliza Doolittle. He is a Cuban-American sex god who has the power to make women walk into walls and drool. When I started bounty hunting, he helped me out and showed me the ropes. When Joe was my FTA, I "commandeered" his Jeep for my personal use. Morelli wasn't happy about this and he ended up chaining me naked to my shower rod with only the phone to get loose. I called Ranger. He hung up on me first but after the second call and some cussing on my part, he took me seriously and came and rescued me. He has been there for me ever since. The one night we spent together was after a deal we made. He would help me with a case and I would sleep with him. The next morning he sent me back to Morelli. Ranger is currently in the wind. He has been out of town for the last few months.
As for me, work has been slow. No one is skipping their court dates, which is good for them but I could use the money. I was told by Ranger before he left that there is always a position open for me at Rangeman, his security firm, if I needed it but I don't want to fall back on him. I like my independence and honestly, desk work is boring. I swung into the office on the off chance that I would catch something this morning. Lula and Connie were in their usual positions, Lula on the couch and Connie behind the desk. Lula is a former 'ho who helped me on a case once and near got killed for her troubles. I found her hung up on my fire escape. She decided that that was too close and she quit the business. I helped her get a job at Vinnie's filing, but it seems the only thing she files are her nails. She occasionally helps me on my skips and lately she has been taking on some of her own. Today, she was Day Glo Purple. Purple nails, purple hair, purple spandex, even her purse was purple.
Connie Rissoli was Vinnie's pit bull. She was a few years older, a few inches shorter and a few cup sizes bigger than me. Think Betty Boop with a Jersey attitude.
"Hey, ladies," I breeze in and plop a box of donuts on the desk. I get two smiles.
"Mmm…Steph, you read my mind."
"Anything new?" I stretch out next to Lula with a Boston Crème in my hand. Yeah, its tough, but someone has to do it.
"Actually, yes. Its your lucky day. Three new ones. Friday must have been the day to miss court." I reach out and take them from her. I flip open the first one to Mooner. He's easy. Probably just forgot his court date. I put him on the bottom. Later, I would check a TV Guide and see what is on, maybe swing through Mickey D's and get a couple of burgers and fries. Mooner is pretty good company for a lazy afternoon.
The second one was young man, early to mid 20s. He wasn't from the 'burg but his picture looked friendly enough. He was wanted for indecent exposure and public drunkenness.
"Hey, Connie, what's the deal with Andrew Carson?" Lula leaned over my shoulder to look at the file.
"He got dumped, got drunk and tried to get laid. The arresting officer didn't approve of his methods."
"So, what he and the woman got busy in the bar?" I looked up. Connie chuckled and Lula and I glanced at her.
"No, he got turned down so he started to strip. And it wasn't for a woman."
"Hunh," Lula laughed.
"Who was arresting?" I glance at the name on the file and I don't recognize it.
"Brookline. She's new. I think she's trying to play with the big boys. Prove herself." Lula and I both huff and Connie joins us in thinking about how stupid new officers can be. I put Andrew to the side. He doesn't worry me too much either. The third file stopped my heart. Oh, shit.
It was a nasty one. Attempted murder. The woman's name Carla Moore. She was 'burg, born and raised. I was surprised I hadn't heard about this from the 'burg grapevine. Carla had been a year older than me and she had pretty close with Morelli through school. The now Terry Gilman hated Carla because Terry had been really serious with Joe in high school and she hadn't appreciated Morelli's side relationship with Carla. After school, Carla had married a boy from outside the 'burg and disappeared off the 'burg radar. Carla's family, the Marino's, were still in the 'burg. Her parents' house was put up for bond money.
"Whoa, Connie, what's the deal with Carla Marino? She's a high bond." Lula was already reading over my shoulder.
"Damn, she nearly killed her man."
"He was a good for nothing anyway. I heard that he has been beating her for years. I guess she just snapped." Connie shrugged.
"Why am I getting this?" I usually got the small stuff. Ranger handled the bigger stuff.
"Ranger's out of town. Besides, she doesn't have a history of violence." Lula and I look back at the charges. "Well, except that. But I say he probably had it coming, huh?" I shook my head but put it back on my pile.
"Want to come?" I ask Lula. "I could use some back up with Carla."
"Sure, but we need to go through McDonalds. I'm dying for some of those apple pies."
We swung through the drive thru and munched on pies and fries on the drive across town. Carla Moore lived out in Olden on the other side of Trenton from the 'burg. When I pulled up in front of the house, I was surprised that this girl was 'burg. The paint was peeling and the lawn was over grown. It was a small house and looked like it was falling apart. There were broken toys all over the front yard and I could see some serious clutter inside.
"Sheesh, this is it?"
"Guess so." I grabbed my purse and pulled out my cuffs which I stuck in my back pocket and I checked the batteries on the stun gun. Sounds like a ordinary purse, huh? Well, my gun resides in the cookie jar. I don't like carrying it around. Okay, I don't like it. Period. "Ready?"
"Heck yes, lets get this twisted sister."
"No shooting! Okay? We are just going to nicely talk to her, got it?"
"White girl, you are no fun."
We walked up the broken sidewalk and stepped over toy parts.
"This is just depressing." I agreed with her. No doubt. I knocked on the door and Lula stayed back to back me up. A big man came to the door after a long pause.
"What do you want?" He had a swollen eye and a swollen gut. His voice was rather rough. I was instantly wary of him. I flashed a smile.
"I'm looking for Carla. You know where I can find her?"
"No, she hasn't showed her ass around here for awhile. What's it to you?"
"She, uh, owes me some money. I need it and I was hoping you could help me get it." He seemed to lighten a bit. He must like the idea of sticking it to her.
" Na, honey, but if I hear anything from her, I can give you a call. What's your number?" I coyly dug out some paper and wrote down my number instead of giving him my card.
"The name is Stephanie." He leered as I handed the paper.
"I use to know a stripper named that. Nice name."
When Lula and I were in the driving away, we both did a full body shiver. "Nasty man."