Here's to the lady who made me drive 87 miles just to smell some shower gel, Janet Evanovich. She owns the characters and a lot of the plot. Thanks to Janet for letting me play with her friends. And, as always, I promise to have them home in time for dinner.
Author's Note: I know this is short. It is a start.
Prologue:
"Why the Hell, don't you find your own girl, Manoso?"
"Why did you leave your woman handcuffed naked to a shower rod for me to find?" Ranger replied.
"She called you? DAMMIT!" That's when Joe Morelli realized couldn't blame anyone else for this stupid competition. They were walking a half block up the street to the place where sky glowed, orange and smoky gray. The Cluck in a Bucket was on fire. Lights strobed from cop cars and fire engines in the parking lot. Disaster seemed to follow her. It didn't matter. Steph could burn down the Statehouse. Joe would always love her. He always had. True, he'd played hard and fast with the ladies for ten years. But he gave it up when Stephanie explained with a '57 Buick exactly why running around wasn't a good idea.
He couldn't take it anymore. It had to stop, even if he had to walk away from Steph. "I'll tell you what," Joe said. They were walking across the parking lot now. He could see her. She had a yellow bird hat duct taped to her greasy wet curls. Pink foam looked like confetti strewn all over her. "I'll flip you for her. Loser cleans Stephanie up."
"I hear there's a good car wash on the corner of Hamilton and Market." Ranger said.
"Loser also gets a clear playing field with her."
"Stephanie isn't a game."
"I was speaking metaphorically. I know she's not a game. One more thing," Joe continued, "We work in a risky business. If something happens to one of us the other picks up the slack. Stephanie will always be taken care of." She would have been livid, had they been close enough for her to hear this conversation. It didn't matter. Ranger knew exactly what Morelli was saying.
"Agreed."
Then they reached her. Stephanie went into a detailed explanation of her latest fiasco. "Call it," Morelli said.
"Heads."
Joe flipped a quarter high into the air. It arced, bounced once on landing then spun in ever smaller concentric circles. It stopped at Stephanie's feet.
"I guess I have to clean her up," Joe said.