The characters you recognize are not mine, of course. Janet Evanovich is the genius behind the Stephanie Plum world. I'm just having some fun with it for my own pleasure. There is some violence in this story, but no smut, and a little bit of language.

This takes place after Fearless Fourteen.

CHAPTER 1

Once again I found myself stuck between a rock and a hard place. No guns, no explosions, no burning cars. Not this time. This time it was between my mother and my currently on-again boyfriend. And in the Burg, explosions and guns would probably have been easier.

I'm Stephanie Plum, former lingerie buyer, current bounty hunter. A bond enforcement agent. I have handcuffs, a stun gun, and I keep my Smith & Wesson five shooter revolver in my brown bear cookie jar. I'm 5'7" and about 125 pounds. Ok, it's really more like 130 pounds. My mom's Hungarian genes mean I can eat pineapple upside down cake and button the top button on my jeans, and my dad's Italian genes mean I know a lot of fancy hand signs. My on-again/off-again boyfriend is Joe Morelli, a Trenton homicide cop. He's a good guy with an Italian temper and libido. He keeps wanting to get married. We try living together and within two months I've stormed out of his house and back to my apartment. I don't think marriage is for me right now. Morelli thinks of marriage and he thinks of kids and Bob the dog and me as a housewife, and I think of me as a bounty hunter with a hamster named Rex.

I work with Lula, a plus sized black woman and former 'ho who enjoys stuffing her 200 pounds into junior sized spandex. My cousin Vinnie Plum, sole proprietor of Vinnie Plum's Bail Bonds hires a rather misfit group, which works, as he's rather a misfit himself. From what I've heard his sexual misfits have included goats, ducks, large dogs, and my arch nemesis Joyce Barnhardt. I found Joyce boffing my husband on our dining room table before the ink was dry on the marriage license. Fifteen minutes later he was now my ex-husband.

Connie Rosolli runs the office, handing out assignments and checks. Her family is the mob, and she's hooked into the underworld of Trenton. She also lives in the Burg, where I grew up, and is still plugged into that gossip as well. The Burg, the area of Trenton bordered by Chambersburg Street, is a tight knit community that goes from Chambersburg Street straight back to Italy. Neighbors are nosy, secrets are open, and hair is high.

My mentor and sometimes employer is named Ranger. He's actually Ricardo Carlos Manoso, but I don't think I've ever heard him respond to any of those names. He's Ranger. His company, Rangeman, does security and other jobs around town. Very high tech. Think James Bond done Cuban style, wearing and driving nothing but black. There's a theory that Ranger is not quite human. He can open a locked door from the outside and let himself in, even if the security chain is used. He knows everything and can see everything. During an off-again time of my relationship with Morelli he had made a deal with me; help with a capture for a night with him. We had not been lovers since, but the innuendo and tension was there.

Now, though, the tension was between my mother and my boyfriend. They generally got along very well, but not tonight. We had finished dinner and my mother wanted my help. Her payment, a lifetime supply of weekly pineapple upside down cake. Some friends of hers were in a sticky situation, and they had concerns. They didn't want the police, just someone who knew a little bit about what was going on.

Morelli, though, being Morelli and being a cop, wanted me to have nothing to do with this. We could all see that the situation stank, and I have a habit of having trouble follow me. He wanted to play cop and protective boyfriend and he wanted me to stay out of whatever this was.

On the one hand I loved my job. There were a lot of times when I didn't, but generally I did. I didn't have to wear pantyhose, I could work whenever I wanted, and occasionally my work took me to fun places like Las Vegas and Atlantic City. On the other hand, I love Morelli. Even if we don't get married we love each other. And I didn't want to have the same fight again about what he wanted for me and what I wanted. That was always the argument that had me grabbing Rex's aquarium and heading back to my apartment.

I dragged myself away from their argument for a few minutes to calm down, then I went back into the kitchen.

"Mom, enough! Joe, stop! Joe, I'm a big girl, and I know you love me, but I want to at least be able to make this decision based on what I know, rather than what you would like me to be doing. Mom, Joe is just concerned, please don't yell at him for loving me and wanting me to be safe."

With that statement both of them quieted down. They stood breathless for a few minutes.

"Great, now that you're both calmed down, why don't we send Joe home and you and I can talk about it, Mom. Joe, I'll get a ride home with my mom or dad when we're done. I shouldn't be all that long."

I knew that decision wouldn't go over well, but family in the Burg was Family. Blood is thicker than water. I had to at least hear my mom out. And I couldn't do that with Morelli standing there huffing and puffing like the angry Italian that he was. I knew this would likely lead to an argument, the same argument we always have, but it could wait. I at least needed to know what was going on.

Morelli looked from me to my mother, then back again. He shook his head, gave both of us a kiss on the cheek, and gathered Bob's leash up and headed out to his SUV. When we heard him leave my mother and I sat again at the kitchen table with a plate of cookies in front of us.

"So, what's up?" I asked my mother.

"This is so awkward, and kind of scary, but something needs to be done. My friends, Sandra and Ronald Rizzo are in a bind. They've been caring for their niece Paige since she was a baby. Her mother, Sandra's niece Elizabeth, couldn't take care of her. Sandra and Ronald are my age with a little girl in the house. They're tired a lot, it's a lot of work. I try to help when I can, since I have only the three granddaughters of my own..." Way to stab it home, Mom.

"Anyway, they know little about Elizabeth's past, other than she had Paige when she was quite young and she had to give her up. They don't know who the father is. Paige is four now, and two months ago all letters from Elizabeth stopped. She had been sending what money she could, but now nothing. Sandra doesn't know where she worked or what she did, just that money came in fairly regularly. Sometimes for large amounts, other times for less, but it always came in. Now there's been no money, no letters, no contact of any sort. They hadn't seen Elizabeth in over a year, usually they just got letters from her. An occasional phone call.

"Sandra and Ronald have asked the police for help, they've filed a missing person's report. But that's all they can do. They don't know where she lived or what she did. The letters came with postmarks from Philly, Newark, Boston, New York, sometimes even right here in Trenton. They don't have the money for a private investigator. They were wondering if maybe you could help them at all? They live a couple of streets over."

I wanted to thud my head on the wall. Why me? How do these things find me? It's not that I'm an astounding bounty hunter, never mind a private investigator. I'm tenacious, I'm stubborn, I'm nosy to a fault, and I have great instincts. All good things for a bounty hunter. But I'm not particularly good at what I do. I also have a lot of luck. Good luck and bad luck. Enough good luck to keep the roof over my head, hamster crunchies and Tastykakes in the pantry, and bullets in my gun.

I looked at my mother. She was trying very hard to appear casual, but I could tell this was tearing her up. My mother takes relationships very seriously. If her friends were in need then she would do everything she could to help. And in this case, "everything" included asking me to do this.

I sighed. "What's their address? I can run over right now and spend a few minutes chatting with them. Then can I get a ride back to Joe's?"

"Of course, of course!" my mother said, bustling up all of a sudden to write down the address and get a bag of leftovers ready for me to leave with when I came home from the Rizzos. In the Burg we do food, and every housewife makes enough to feed an army. When I eat at my parent's house there is always food enough for another two meals afterward. Good thing, that means I don't need to eat with my parents every day.

I took the address from my mother and walked the short distance to the Rizzos house. I knocked, not quite knowing who or what to expect. The first thing I saw was a little blond head bouncing in front of the door. My only experience with kids is with my nieces, and a couple of cases with kids involved. I don't quite know what to do with them in a home setting. Give me a hamster over a kid any day. Not that Joe agrees with that...

I sighed. I couldn't think about this right now.

The little blond head, who I assumed to be Paige, ran off to get Sandra and Ronald. They appeared at the door, clutching their clothes to them. When they saw who it was there was an odd look in their eyes. Like they were standing just on this side of despair and hopelessness.

"Mr. And Mrs. Rizzo? I'm Stephanie Plum. My mother asked me to come over to your house and discuss your..."

"Yes, of course, Stephanie, please come in!" They opened the door for me. I entered a house warm with smells of dinner and dessert.

"Would you care for some cake and coffee? We've just finished dinner ourselves." You can't enter a home in the Burg without being offered cake and coffee. "We're sorry for interrupting you, my dear, it's just that we don't want this news out on the street. Your mother is such an old, dear friend, we knew we could trust her, but we don't want this news around. And you know how rumors and gossip goes in the Burg. Please, can we trust you to keep this a secret?"

"Of course," I said easily. I generally tried not to tell everyone what was going on. I failed miserably, but I did generally try. There was something more to the request than just privacy, though. I could tell. There was fear that if this got out worse things may happen. It was clear on her face. I pretended I didn't see it and went on.

"You've been having concerns over Elizabeth? She's disappeared?"

"We think so. We never knew where she was living. Her letters would come from all over the Northeast. Sometimes there would be a long letter telling us of her travels and what she had seen, other times just a couple of sentences telling us that she was ok. With every letter she sent money, whatever she could. Occasionally it'd be as much as 10,000. and sometimes as little as 200. But she sent what she could. We were grateful for anything that came to us. We love Paige and are happy to have her, but we do have a fixed income, and children are expensive. We never had children of our own. When she was a child Elizabeth was very close to us, but we separated when she became a teenager. Her mother, my sister, may she rest in peace," we both made the sign of the cross, "died when Elizabeth was 15. Her father had been gone for years by then. Run off with another woman. We were the only family here Elizabeth and Paige had."

"What is it that Elizabeth does that she has all of this money?"

"We're not certain. We had concerns over that, but we figured it was best not to know. She spoke once or twice of her employer, but she never told us the company, but otherwise she spoke only of what she had done and seen, how much she loved and missed Paige. We don't think Elizabeth would be involved in anything illegal, dear, you must understand that. But her letters were always so vague, and the moving about was so odd. It did worry us."

"Was there anything recently that seemed to change? Did she seem more upset than normal? Happier than normal? Anything at all? Anything to indicate that she was thinking of changing her life?"

"No, not at all. Here, I have her last letter here. It was one of the short ones. It came with a check for 350."

I looked at the letter I was handed. It was a single piece of paper, handwritten with a young woman's handwriting. "Dear Aunt Sandra and Uncle Ronald," it read. "Everything here is fine. I miss you all very much. Tell Paige that I love her, and I wish I could do more for her. I'll write more soon. Love, Elizabeth." It was postmarked two months ago from Trenton, from a post office in the downtown area. In the return address area "Elizabeth Orfanelli" had been written, but nothing else.

"Do you mind if I keep this letter for a little while, please? I'd like to see if I can find anything out. Also, do you have a picture of Elizabeth?"

I looked at the picture Sandra handed me. Elizabeth looked younger than she was, with bright skin and bouncy hair a couple of shades darker than Paige's. In the picture she was wearing a bikini top and a pair of shorts, and seemed to be on the beach, having fun. Paige was just a baby in her stroller, with Elizabeth leaning over her. Her face glowing with motherly love. I wondered if I ever looked at Rex that way.

"Do you know anything about Elizabeth's friends?" I asked Sandra. "Was there anyone she hung out with as a kid, or she hangs out with now?"

Sandra shook her head. "When she was a little girl she and Lizzie Spegrula were best friends. They both loved that they were Elizabeths. But I haven't heard from Lizzie in over ten years. I don't know if she's married or in the Burg, or if she's moved out at all. The other little girl that Elizabeth was friends with growing up was Emily Tully. Last I heard Emily was going to college in Newark."

I thanked Sandra and told her I'd look into it. I said good bye to her, Ronald, and Paige, who was now doing somersaults in the living room. I let myself out and walked back to my mother's house. My mother and grandmother, who moved in when my grandfather went to the Elk's Lodge in the sky, were waiting on the step for me to arrive. There's a Burg early warning system for housewives. They know when you're approaching. Apparently it works when you're on foot as well as in a car.

My mother handed me the bag of leftovers, and my purse, and my father pulled the car around to bring me back to Morelli's house. I got in and we rode the five minute drive in silence. My father is not a man of many words. In my parent's household it's hard for him to get a word in edgewise. My father worked for the post office for 30 years. He's retired now and drives a cab part time, which means he picks up some of his friends a few mornings a week and plays cards at his club for a couple of hours.

I said good night to my father and walked into Morelli's house. And nearly right into the argument I was expecting. Morelli had not calmed down in the hour since I'd seen him. In fact he may have only gotten more upset in the meantime. Before he could get started I held up my hands.

"Joe, I don't want to have this argument. Not again. We both know it ends with me saying I'm not ready for marriage and being a housewife and kids and then going back to my apartment."

"I'm not arguing with you, Cupcake," said Morelli, though his jaw was working in some very interesting ways. "I just worry. You seem to have bad luck follow you around, and it's rarely good when someone tries to help you find it."
"Nothing like that happened, Joe. I can't tell you what's going on, but it's nothing like what you think. Some family friends just need help."

His eyebrows went up. "That's it? That's all I'm getting about this? What's so important that it has to be so hush hush?"

"I don't know. They just asked me not to tell. Look, I'm not supposed to talk about this, not to anyone." Especially to you, I was thinking, and we both knew it. Morelli has a tough time turning off the cop part of his life. That's another argument we sometimes have. How I share more information with my coworkers than I do with my boyfriend. How sometimes the person who knows the most about my life at any one time is Ranger.

"I don't want you doing this, Cupcake. Tell your mother's friends that you're quite sorry, but you can't accept the case."
"Excuse me? Tell them I can't accept it? Why, because my boyfriend doesn't want me to have it? Tell them I can't take it because it's not my decision to make, I'm not capable of thinking for myself, is that what you want me to tell them?"

"Geez, Cupcake, slow it down! That's not what I meant. I just don't want you involved in bad news."

"You don't think I can make that decision for myself after I find out more of the facts? And besides, we don't know that it's bad news."

"I don't want you to get all of the facts! With you, honey, it's always bad news. Just leave it, ok? Walk away. In fact," he said, waggling his eyes and turning playful, "walk away right up my stairs. I'm sure I can think of a way to convince you not to go out looking for anyone right now."

"So what you're telling me is that I'm bad luck, you want me home not making my own choices, and you want me in your bed whenever you tell me to? Is that what you're telling me, Joseph Morelli? Because that is not happening!"

Just then the cricket sound of his pager went off. We glared at one another for a couple of minutes before he read the display.

"Shit, I need to take this. Look. I worry about you. I love you. I want you in my bed, yes, we both know that. I want you to make decisions that will make us both happy. Right now that's not happening. Again."

I looked at him. I could see the genuine concern for me in his eyes. I sighed. "I won't go looking for trouble," I said. I made no mention of looking for Elizabeth, or maybe asking after her friends Lizzie and Emily.

"Good, then. I'm sorry, I need to go out. I may be late. Are you going to stay here tonight, or go back to your place?"

I thought about it. Most of the fun of staying at Morelli's house was sleeping in Morelli's bed with Morelli. If he wasn't going to be home tonight I was going to go home and spend the night in my own bed.

"I'm going to head out. I want to peek in on Rex and sleep in my own bed. It's been a few days. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

He nodded, then gave me a kiss good bye that sent heat from my head to my toes. I curled my fingers around his collar and held on until the kiss was broken.

"Good night, then," he said with a smile as he angled into his SUV and pulled away.

I said good night to Bob, locked up, and got into my latest car. A 1989 Plymouth Acclaim. It was all I could afford with the insurance money from the last car I had. I have bad luck with cars. I'd lost count how many I'd had since my Mazda Miata a couple of years before. I think about a dozen, maybe a couple more. Some had been stolen, some had been crushed, but an alarming number had either caught fire or exploded. This one ran, but it made a lot of noise when I started it up and different color smoke came out of the back depending on its mood.

I turned over the engine and motored home. I entered my apartment and said hello to Rex. I dropped a cracker, a grape, and some extra hamster crunchies into his bowl. Rex ran out, grabbed the grape, and ran back into his soup can head first. Rex's social skills are limited, but he's a hamster, so it's allowed.

I took a shower and ran my fingers through my hair. I looked at the picture that Sandra had given me. Elizabeth must be four years older now, but in the picture she barely looked to be in her teens. I knew she had had Paige when she was young, but I had thought she was 18 or 19, not 13. In the morning I'd go into the office and find out more information about the three girls. As it was now I was tired and it was getting late. I turned on the TV and found a Rangers game. They were losing to a Southern team. How embarrassing. I fell asleep before the third period started, and when I woke later an infomercial was on. I dragged myself to bed and slept until morning.