Chapter 1:

My dad grew up in a large family, with two older brothers and two younger sisters. He used to tell me stories about him and his one brother getting into trouble all the time. One particular story took place in the fall when they were kids. They went to the neighbor's house and raked up all his leaves, carefully placed them on blankets and sheets, and hauled them away, leaving his lawn leaf free. When going to retrieve payment for their work, they received one quarter. For all the work they did, that one quarter to split between them seemed worthless, so they brought all the leaves back and spread them back on the lawn. They kept the quarter though.

That leaf story is a lot like what being a Bond Enforcement Agent is; a lot of work for a stinkin' quarter. And I can't even put the leaves back in the yard. I was remembering it as I looked at the bonds check in my hand. It would barely cover my rent and bills for the month. I knew when I took the case it wouldn't give me potatoes, but this was pathetic.

I'm Cora Benjamin, and Art Slown was that blanket of leaves. I've been here in Trenton, New Jersey for about six months. I'm more commonly called a bounty hunter, but Bond Enforcement Agent just seems more important. It took me three tries to nab Art, and when I finally did he threw a bowl of pudding at me. It wouldn't have been so bad if the pudding was what hit me, but the glass bowl came first and knocked me to the ground, landing me in the spilt pudding. Lucky for me he tripped on the garden hose out back and was wrestling it because he thought it was a snake. Art was a little high in the sky this morning, and being very uncooperative. I wiped my glasses off, refocused, and ran outside with stun gun in hand, ready to zap him. He fell over like an ironing board, which coincidently is what he resembled.

Art wasn't facing very big charges because all he did was get drunk and unruly at his ten year high school reunion, punching his old rival. However, the fact that he was doped up this morning and I was trying to haul him to jail might be a reason for his lack of support. It was warm for a day in February, jacket weather instead of heavy coats, and so luckily my windbreaker took most of the pudding brunt. Art was a struggle to get to my truck, but with shackles on his feet, his hands cuffed behind him, and my gun at his back, I was able to finally lead him there in his drug/stun gun induced haze before he really knew what was happening.

Usually the good thing about the crappy bonds is that they're easier. The bad thing, besides the fact that they're usually drunk or drugged and the pay is horrible, it that once you get one cleared, there's at least five more waiting to take it's place.

Lula strutted in with a Dunkin' Donuts bag and two coffees as Connie handed me another stack of losers. Connie is Vinnie's secretary basically, and she's everything you would think of when you think of a Jersey woman. "Mornin' Cora," said Lula. "Damn, what's that smell? It's making me hungrier, that smells good." Lula was a two hundred pound black woman who tried to wear size eight clothes. She was big, she was loud, and she was fun. Now she works for Vinnie, doing filing when she feels like it, and bounty huntering when she gets bored in the office. Before this she was a hooker, but I didn't know her then.

"It's just me Lula. Art threw a bowl of French Vanilla pudding at me this morning."

"That how you got that cue ball on your head?" She asked, pointing at the knot formulating on me forehead. "You better put some ice on that."

"We don't have any ice," Connie said.

"I'll just take care of it when I go home. I need to change. Hey Lula, why aren't you taking some of these skips too?"

"Well I am, only I'm taking the ones around my old neighborhood so you don't have to go down there. You won't survive down there by yourself if you don't know how things work."

"Where's that?"

"Down Stark St. and State St. areas. You know, the really bad parts in the ghetto."

"Oh, yeah, from what I've heard you can keep them." I snagged a donut from the bag and headed out, telling Connie I'll come back in an hour or so to get the rest of the search information on my skips, since she was in the middle of it.

I found Ranger leaning on my truck when I walked out to the lot. He leaned in when I walked up and sniffed my hat. "So that smell is you; you smell yummy." Ranger was a Cuban American stud named Ricardo Carlos Manoso. He was two feet taller and probably older than me, a former Army Ranger and Special Forces. For some reason he seems to have the hots for me, but I still haven't figured out why; I'm not exactly America's Next Top Model. We never had any relationship, but we did have one night that he wants to repeat; luckily no one knows about it either.

"It's French Vanilla pudding, and it's all over my jacket in the truck too."

"I wondered what that was. You're making me hungry." He found some pudding on my neck that I missed, and he licked it off, leaving a warm sensation in its place. "You taste good too."

"Don't start. My head hurts and I'm a mess."

"What happened? Did you know you have a softball growing out of your head?"

"Art Slown didn't really want to cooperate. He threw a bowl of pudding at me. The glass bowl hit my head and then I fell in it on the floor. This is the third freakin' time I've tried to nab him, and he decides to be high this morning, making him less than anxious to be hauled off to a building full of cops."

"Did you get him?"

"Yeah, finally. He got tangled in the garden hose out back and freaked. He thought it was an anaconda or something. He was so stoned."

Ranger kinda smiled at that thought. I would have laughed at it more if I wasn't so pissed at the time for being hit with a bowl. Ranger looked down and shuffled through a few of my files. "These skips are still pretty small, Lula's size. Isn't she taking any?"

"Lula takes the skips around Stark St. and her old stomping grounds. She said it was better than me wandering around there alone. Besides, someone has to take the small ones since you won't."

"It's probably a good idea you don't wander Stark alone."

"You don't think I could make it down there either?"

"Your mouth would get you in trouble."

"Not necessarily, I'm only mouthy to you, remember? And why aren't you taking so many skips anymore and helping us out? Be a nice guy for once."

"I am a nice guy; I just have standards when it comes to wearing pudding. It's okay in the bedroom, but I'm not a fan of it at work."

"Good for you, because I don't like to wear it at all. So if you'll excuse me I'm going home to get it off me."

"Let me get you started; you have a last little bit right here." Ranger took another seductive lick on my neck and my temperature boiled.

"That was the same place. There wasn't any pudding, was there?"

"Nope, but you tasted so good I couldn't resist."

  

I went home and tried scraping and washing what pudding I could off my jacket. I'll have to wash it before I wear it again, but I don't have time today. In the shower I found out I had hardened pudding in my hair, and it took three washes to get it out. I dressed fresh, filled Annie's bowl and an ice pack, and was back out the door for the office, yet again.

From what I hear, this winter has been rather mild, with the averages ranging from 45 to 60, but it seems cold to me because I got used to California winters these last few years. I don't know what I'd do if I had to go back to Ohio, where a mild winter means 'at least it's above freezing.'

Lula and Connie were skulking when I arrived, and it wasn't long before I heard why. The most awful screeching and cawing sounds were coming from behind Vinnie's door, which only meant one thing. Joyce Barnhardt. "Guess the circus is back in town."

Lula nodded, "You got that right. They got the elephants performing now."

"Yeah, the Midget Trunk Elephants and Hungry, Hungry Hippos."

"Good one!" Laughed Connie.

"That sounds about right too," shouted Lula. "Say, I wanted to ask you, what are you doin' this weekend? Well, more what'cha doin' tonight, Friday?"

"Nothing yet, why?"

"Well then you doin' something, cause you got a date."

"What! Lula what are you talking about?"

"I got you a date for tonight."

"Lula, why would you do that?"

"Oh come on, please? I met this great guy last night, Puerto Rican, and really hot. He said he'd go out with me Friday if I could find a date for his cousin too. He comes as a packaged deal, and you're the only single friend I got. If you don't go, then I can't get my freak on with Edwardoe this weekend."

"Come on Lula, you have to know at least one other person who's single."

"But that's just it; all the ones I know already got dates. Come on, it's tonight, and I'm running outta time. I can't have another weekend without a man to keep me company. I ain't been out on a date in weeks."

"You were with a guy all last weekend. You told us about it first thing on Monday."

"Yeah, but when I look back on it, that weekend wasn't really worth countin'. Oh come on, all you gotta do is go dancin' with us tonight, and then go home. I'll go my merry way with Edwardoe, and everything will be fine. Besides, here's your chance to go on an official date. I know Ranger never took you on a real date, and sure as hell never dancing."

"I don't see why you split with Ranger anyway." Connie piped is. "There's something wrong with a woman if she leaves a man like that."

"Connie, I did not split with Ranger, because there was nothing to split. I'm not, nor ever was dating him or anything in between." Okay, maybe a little fib on that part.

"It sure don't look like it. He has his hands on you every chance he gets. And he takes you out on a bunch of his busts too. That's a date in Ranger's world."

"I don't go out on that many busts with him, and Ranger's behavior isn't anything more than him being an oversexed jerk. It's not serious, and it's not reciprocated. Besides, when you let go of a guy that's way above your league, then it's a satisfying feeling because you're secure enough with yourself to do that. Not that that's what happened here."

Lula gave a half-snort, "Yeah, well, I guess I ain't that secure with myself. But if I got a man like Ranger instead, hell with self-security. I'm secure enough to get along without it. Long as he respects me, we ain't got no problems… So, what time you want me to pick you up?"

"I never said I would go."

"Well I kind-of assumed it, seeing as how if you don't go, then my weekend is ruined because I can't go on that date."

"Lula, I really do appreciate the offer, but it's just really bad timing. I'm not having a very good day, and this knot on my head is only getting bigger. Sorry, but I'm sure you can find someone else."

"Well, I guess I could find someone. Hell, maybe I can take 'um both on, that might be fun; haven't done that in a while."

"Have fun. Connie, you got those—"

Eeeeeeeeekkk! Bwoooaauunkk! Sounds from some other dimension seemed to emanate from Vinnie's door.

"My God! That is so wrong."

"Yeah," said Connie, "but no, I haven't had a chance to get all the info on these guys. I had to go to the courthouse right after you left, and I haven't had much of a chance. If you wait here it shouldn't take too long."

I didn't even get to sit down before Joyce walked out of Vinnie's office straightening her hair and pulling up her two sizes too small leather pants. I wasn't having a good day, but thought maybe some pot-shots at Joyce would make me feel better. I'd pray for forgiveness later. "You know Joyce, with you making all those farm animal sounds, I'm getting awful homesick."

"Buzz off redneck inbreed."

I was until now holding the icepack up to my forehead, but thought if Joyce wanted to battle, it would be polite for her to see both my eyes say their witty lines without pause. "Actually, the inbreed stereotype is normally associated with hillbillies. But since you started it, I think trampy ho will do for you."

She came to the center of the office, and stood right up to me and made sure to dramatize her gaze straight down. It wouldn't have been as much of a difference, except her heels were five inches high. "You wanna go at it shrimp? Because I'd make you a spot on the pavement."

"You mean a spot like that patch of mustache you missed?"

She snapped up her hand to cover her upper lip, "I do not have a mustache! Real women don't have mustaches!"

"Yeah, you're a real woman, a real woman with inner-tube boobs."

"I'm more woman than you'll ever be you little twerp!"

"Yeah, you're more than me… in your ass."

Joyce's eyes lit up like their fires were fed gasoline; apparently her ass was a sensitive subject. "That's It!" I had already backed off from Joyce some so I wasn't looking straight up. It's not very comfortable on my neck. She used that space to lunge for me with talon claws outstretched and an eagle screech, but was zapped mid-dive by Lula behind her. Joyce took me down onto the floor with her though, and lay motionless from the stun. Her hair-spray made me gag, and I couldn't do anything but thrash my arms.

"A little help here?" I called out to anyone, and was surprised when I saw Ranger was the one to roll her off me. None of us even noticed him come in. He pulled me to my feet in one swift motion that almost sent me down again. That second smack to the head was too much for me, and I had to sit down on the couch to stop the world from spinning. When the world righted itself some I asked Ranger when he arrived amidst the battle of wits that just occurred.

"Somewhere between mustache and inner-tube boobs."

I tried not to laugh, because it hurt so much. I felt around my throbbing head to where it was hit this time, and saw some blood on my fingers. Damn. I am not going to the hospital for this. So I compromised and put the icepack on the back instead of the front of my head.

Ranger saw my fingers and pulled the pack away to examine my newest injury. "Your head isn't having any luck today, is it. This doesn't look too bad, just a small cut."

"My horoscope probably said I'd use my head a lot today."

It's now that Joyce started to stir, and when she got up she had an embarrassingly gross strand of drool from her mouth to the floor. But of course, none of us told her about it. She was groggy and on all fours, "what happened? Why am I on the floor?"

"You jumped poor little Cora you bitch," said Lula. "How could you do that? You and she went down on the floor and you both hit your heads. You caused her to hit her head!"

"I don't remember landing on Cora like that! You must have stun gunned me again you fat cow! But anything Cora got she deserved."

My head couldn't take any more of this. "Shut Up Joyce! You really don't want to push me today, so if you know what's good for you, you'll leave before I shoot you and you leave in a hefty bag."

She didn't have any response, just a snort and a dramatic, yet wobbly, exit. I sat leaning over on the couch, yelling ouch constantly as Ranger cleaned my cut with the first aid kit Connie got him.

"Hold still."

"Well it hurts, you're using alcohol pads, and they hurt."

"The cut's not that big, and I'm almost done." He scrubbed one last time extra hard before declaring he was done. I thought it was awful nice of him to clean my cut, but I would have been fine without.

When he finished, my head was sore on the front, burning on the back, and throbbing all around. Oh happy day. Ranger was still sitting on the couch watching me, probably wondering if I suffered any concussion or if my sudden snap at Joyce was just the end of my patience. "Yeah, yeah. It's always fun until someone looses an eye, right?"

Ranger simply responded, "I wasn't thinking that."

"I can't believe I just sunk to Joyce's level."

"Girl that was fantastic!" Lula cheered. "I wish I had all that on video or something. You kept right up with her, with all that smart-talk. You really are from Jersey aren't you?"

"Sorry Lula, really not from Jersey." Before Jersey I lived in California a few years, but grew up in a farming community in Ohio, so I haven't had any Jersey association until Trenton.

"Well you should've been, because you belong here."

"Yeah, but I sunk to her level and got my head cracked in the process."

"You didn't cause that fall," Connie reassured me. "All you did was sass her, she jumped you."

"Thanks Connie." I took a few breaths to relax and looked at Ranger again. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Vinnie wanted some RangeMan security systems estimates; see if he wants to change."

"Is RangeMan cheaper?"

"No."

"Oh, I guess it would be more expensive when you have the National Guard on speed dial."

"That's only with our deluxe package." My head was feeling a little better, so it didn't hurt so much when I laughed at that. "I was also wondering," Ranger said, "If you were free tonight because I got something you might be interested in."

Now, I have been steadily trying to back away from this man, and I especially wanted to now with Lula and Connie eavesdropping. Oh yes, they were, but they were trying to make themselves look busy so it didn't look like they were listening. I knew better. "Uhm, well actually, uh, no. I uh, already told Lula that I would go dancing with her tonight."

Lula and Connie both looked up, and Lula began to ask about my statement. "What? But, you said—"

"I said that I would think about it when you first asked this morning, and then when Joyce was in the office I said I would go since you didn't have anyone to go with you, remember?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. She did say that. But you smacked your head—"

"It's feeling better already, I think I'll be fine by this evening, and you really wanted to go dancing tonight. Sorry Ranger, Lula was first."

"That's fine." That was all he had, so he was gone. I can't believe I just did that, I turned down a possible job and money with Ranger to go dancing with Lula and her mystery dates. My head is going to kill me, and with this lump I look like shit. Cora, what the hell did you do now!

"Cora," Lula said, "now, I know we're friends and all, but why did you turn down an offer like that from Ranger to go with me when your head is hurtin' in the first place! What the hell would make you turn down a fine ass like that?"

"Because he just has some RangeMan job for me, I'm sure of it. And I don't feel like doing anything for him this weekend. Besides, it'll make you happier to be here for you tonight than it would him if I were there."

"Are you sure? I think he'd be pretty happy too."

"Yes. Now, what are these two guys like, and just exactly where the hell are we going?"