Disclaimer: Not mine, I make no money.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through this story, Real life has been kicking my butt. I am now feeling much better, and things have settled a little, so here is the rewriting of ITNC, and I am still working on A time For Tank as well. Expect an update there in a week or so.

My name is Stephanie Plum, and around Trenton, I am known as the Bombshell Bounty Hunter. Sounds flattering doesn't it? Bombshell, according to Webster's dictionary, can mean very attractive woman, and if that was the reason I got that name, I'd be more than flattered. Unfortunately, I picked up the moniker due to my habit of being in close proximity of things that explode. I'm sure it must happen to other people, too, right? You know, you're just standing there minding your own business when your car blows up. No? How about a funeral home? Yea, I didn't think so.

Lately, things have been going fairly well, my on-again-off-again boyfriend and I were currently in an on-again stage, and work was going great. I only rolled in garbage once this week. I was currently on my way into the bonds office to see if there were any new files for me, as I had picked up the skip yesterday for my last open file. I opened the door while carrying a box of donuts, which immediately caught the attention of Connie and Lula.

" Hey white girl, how's it shakin'?" Lula asked as she took the box of donuts from my hands. She took one before passing the box off to Connie.

" Not bad. Got any new files for me Connie?"

Connie, who was busy eating her donut, just gestured at the corner of her desk where a single folder was waiting for me. I picked it up with one hand, snagged a Boston Crème with the other, and walked over to the couch. I sat and ate my donut while flipping through the file. James Pickford, age 80, was picked up for reckless driving and carrying concealed, and he missed his court date. I figured I could probably handle this one on my own. After all, he was 80, what could possibly go wrong?

I took my file and headed out the door with one last wave to the girls. I climbed into my little Ford pickup. I don't know if anyone else caught the irony in the fact that my longest lasting vehicle to date, other than the Buick, was a Ford Ranger, but I sure did. I headed across town and pulled to a stop in front of a small house. I walked up to the front door and knocked loudly. I could hear the television playing from somewhere inside. Legally, if I have reason to suspect my FTA is located on the premises, I have a right to enter; so I tried the door. Luckily for me, it swung open, and I say luckily, because I still have not learned how to pick locks.

As soon as I walked into the house, I knew something was wrong. I'd smelled death before. I walked slowly through the small entryway into the living room and slowly looked around. Suddenly, when I looked at the leather Lazy Boy recliner, I knew exactly why Mr. Pickford had missed his court date. Not only was he FTA, he seemed to be DRT, Dead Right There, as I heard the cops say before. I just sighed and headed outside, while digging through my bag for my cell, to call it in.

I sat down on the curb and rested my forehead on my knees while I listened for sirens in the distance. I looked up as the sirens got closer, and stood dusting myself off, when I could see the flashing lights in the distance. No sooner had I gotten off the curb than Morelli's POS unmarked car squealed to a halt directly in front of me. I took a few involuntary steps back as I saw the look on his face when he got out of the car.

"Jesus Christ, Cupcake! Do you have any idea what I go through when I hear that you're involved in something again? Why do I have a girlfriend who finds dead bodies? For crying out loud, you've already made me the laughing stock of the entire force. Can't you just marry me and stay home?"

Joe's rant was cut off by the arrival of several other emergency vehicles. Carl Costanza made his way over to us and gave me a pat on the shoulder.

"Way to go, Steph. You just made me 500 bucks."

I sighed and forced a smile. I hated that the cops bet on me, but I also understood that if they didn't have anything to relieve the stress of their jobs that they would all go insane. I tried not to mind too much. I just turned to watch the paramedics head into the house to verify that he was really dead. Joe apparently thought that he hadn't gotten his point across, so he started yelling again. I wasn't even listening to him anymore. All that I was capable of at that point was getting angry. I turned to face him and started yelling back. Once, just once, I wanted him to ask about how I was doing before he started to tell me how it affected him. I was really getting into this fight using my Italian hand gestures and everything, when I felt a familiar tingle on the back of my neck. I stopped yelling and turned to the side to see Ranger walking towards us. Ranger just shook his head as he looked at me with his arms crossed over his chest.

" Babe."

"It wasn't my fault!"

I saw the corners of his mouth tilt a little at that. I gave him my best Burg death glare and that earned me a full smile.

"You never disappoint."

I rolled my eyes at him and he glanced over at Joe before looking back at me.

"Need a lift?"

"No, but thanks. My car actually survived this time."

He just nodded and headed back to his Mercedes pulling away from the curb, leaving the mess behind. I was grateful that he came, but rather curious as to why. After all, there had been no explosions or anything like that. I turned my attention back to Joe, who was still red in the face and barely containing his anger.

"Why don't you come to the station in the morning and give your statement?"

I nodded. I wasn't in any hurry to deal with an irate Morelli at the moment. I just pulled my keys out of my purse and got into my truck. I wanted to go home and have the day be over with. I was just about to pull away when Carl knocked on my window. When I rolled it down, he handed me a piece of paper.

"Figured I'd save you the hassle of getting a body receipt later."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"No problem Steph, you know Joe will calm down. Just give him a day or two."

I decided not to comment and just pulled away from the curb and headed towards my apartment. I swung through the drive thru at McDonald's to grab some comfort food on my way. I pulled into my spot by the dumpster and headed up to my apartment. I sighed as I flopped down on the couch, doing my best to ignore the blinking light on my messages. Maybe Joe was right, I should just quit. I was only embarrassing him and my Mother. God knows I've tried my best, but I just kept screwing it up.