Janet Evanovich owns most of these characters. I'm just borrowing them.

P.I. Plum

Ch4

I vaguely remember Ranger kissing me goodbye the next morning at the crack of dawn. It was too early to get up then, so I stayed in bed a few more hours. Now, the sun is actually up and so am I. As much as I hate running, I like the resulting body. I haven't had trouble buttoning my jeans in close to a year now. I decide to do a shortened version of my usual five miles, since I'm meeting Lula at the park. Initially, Lula was doing a slow walk/jog combo for twenty minutes with me right there with her to keep her motivated. That meant I had no excuse not to do my five miles. Now that she's picked up the pace and length of time a bit, I feel like I can justify dropping a couple of miles off my own run. I know, excuses, excuses. If Ranger were with me, he'd make me do more than five miles and still go with Lula.

Lula and I are huffing and puffing by the time we finish. We're both usually too focused on not falling down or passing out while we're running to actually hold a conversation. Afterwards, we walk a bit to cool off and then gulp down some water. Again, not a big time for conversation. Since I haven't hung out with Lula or Connie for a while, I tell Lula I'll swing by the bonds office later in the morning so we can catch up. Lula nods her agreement and then drags her slightly slimmed down self over to her red Firebird to go home and clean up.

When I get back to my house, I see Jeff Wolesky sitting on my front steps. Jeff is the contractor working on my house. "Hi Jeff! I guess I lost track of time. Sorry!"

"No, I'm just early this morning. You're okay." The only person besides me with keys and alarm codes for my house and the garage apartment is Ranger. That means I have to let Jeff and his crew in every morning, which really isn't a big deal.

"So how's the house coming along? You guys should be getting close to finishing, right?"

"That's part of why I'm here early. I'd like to walk through the house with you before my crew gets here, if that's okay with you."

"Oh yeah! I haven't seen it in a few days and I'm excited to see the changes!"

Jeff led me on a tour of my house. It is a three-story plus attic row house, constructed of a warm golden stone back in the early twentieth century. Unlike the cramped, narrow row homes of the neighborhood I grew up in, this house is pretty spacious and oozes charm. It originally had nine bedrooms, no closets, and one bathroom. The windows were boarded up when I first toured the home and it was pretty grungy inside. My new neighborhood was once very nice, but declined over the years. Recently it has seen an upswing and now the houses on my street are a combination of newly restored show places and homes still in their faded glory.

Jeff and his crew have worked their magic and transformed it into a five bed, four and a half bath home that still oozes the original charm. The gorgeous, hand-carved dark wood staircase that made me fall in love with the house has been refinished and now gleams softly and richly. The floors and trim work have all been refinished as well. The stained glass panels at the tops of the windows throw beautiful multi-colored beams of light into the rooms. The hideous red and gold bathroom is gone, a tasteful half bath in its place. The kitchen, which lacked all cabinet doors and appliances when I moved in, shines with bright white classic cabinets, white subway tile backsplash, black granite counters, and stainless steel appliances. It looks like all it needs is some miscellaneous hardware and it'll be done. The built-ins in the dining room have been refurbished so that the drawers and leaded glass-paned doors now open and close properly. Upstairs, the progress is equally amazing.

"Jeff, you guys rock!" I exclaim.

"Yeah, I know," he jokes. "Seriously, though, do you like it? Is there anything you want changed? Now is the time to tell me. Otherwise, we should be out of here in less than a week. Pretty much all that's left is attaching outlet and light switch covers, knobs and drawer pulls in the kitchen and baths, and doorknobs on all the doors. We also need to finish grouting in a couple of the bathrooms upstairs. Are you sure you don't want us to paint the bedrooms?"

"It all looks great, just like we've discussed all along. Don't change anything. You guys did a good job with the painting downstairs and in the upstairs hallways and bathrooms, but hold off on the bedrooms. I'm going to take my time decorating up here and don't have my color choices decided yet."

Jeff beams at the praise and we clomp back down my beautiful stairs to the front hall. Jeff goes back out front to wait for his crew to arrive. I make my way through the downstairs slowly, savoring the feel of my lovely home. I kept several antique furniture pieces of Great Aunt Elizabeth's, and they will look great in my new space.

As I step out the back door to go back to my apartment to get cleaned up, I realize that I've let the yard get out of hand. Since I'm already sweaty and yucky from my run, I decide to mow real quick before I shower. I drag the mower out of the small shed against the garage and fire it up. My yard is long but narrow and it only takes about half an hour to complete. Probably I should rake up the cuttings, but yard maintenance isn't really my thing and I decide to skip that step.

/

By the time I shower, dress, apply makeup, and wrestle with my hair, it is approaching noon. I told Lula I'd be by the bonds office this morning, and now the morning is almost gone. I swing by Cluck-in-a-Bucket and Tasty Pastry before arriving at the bonds office. Hopefully my offering of lunch will disguise the fact that I'm late.

Juggling the bucket of chicken, bag of sides, and box of donuts, I manage to open the door to the office. Connie and Lula both light up when they see the food. "Connie and I was jus' talkin' 'bout how hungry we are and now you show up with food. It's a sign!"

I don't know about signs, but I'm glad I've avoided the third degree on my tardiness. Lula sashays over to where I'm standing just inside the door. She relieves me of the bucket of chicken and flounces over to the couch. I motion for Connie to clear her desk so I can set everything else down.

While sweeping her papers to the corner of the desk, Connie tells Lula, "Save me some chicken, don't hog it all!"

"Better hurry up then. I can't promise nothin'. I worked up a serious hunger this morning and I've been feelin' faint ever since."

The office is silent for several minutes and the girls and I chow down on our lunch. Finally we've decimated the entire bucket of chicken, all the potato salad and coleslaw, and the entire box of donuts. It's a good thing I'm wearing a fairly loose-fitting sundress, otherwise I'd need to pop the snap on my jeans. All of our eyes are glazed over and Connie lets out a discreet belch. "I could take a nap," Lula moans.

I agree with her, but napping isn't really on my agenda for the day. "So what's new with you guys?"

"Not much," Connie replies.

"How's the bounty hunting going, Lula?"

"Not bad. The attitude adjustment you suggested and the workouts have been helping a lot. It sucks tryin' to be nice to some of these people, but you're right, it does help. Plus, I've actually been able to catch a few of the runners. Mainly just the old folks and the gimpy ones, but still better than before."

I laugh, but I know where Lula's coming from. There were plenty of times back in my BEA days that I was out-run by some of Grandma Mazur's buddies. "How about Vinnie? Anything freaky happen lately?" I ask them, not letting on that I just had a secret meeting with the man yesterday.

"Actually it's been pretty quiet around here lately," Connie confides.

"What happened to the never-ending stream of skanks going in and out of his office?"

"Harry's been keeping a close eye on him so Vinnie's been cleaning up his act. He even kicked Joyce Barnhardt to the curb."

"Surely not. Doesn't she still work here?" I ask, trying to keep my excitement to myself. I may have my first clue as to Vinnie's blackmailer.

"Nope, he fired her ass!" Lula crows. "She was pissed, but she didn't ever bring in a single skip."

"I never thought I'd see that happen. I thought she exchanged sexual favors to keep her job!"

"Like I said, it's been pretty quiet lately," Connie repeated.

"What's Joyce doing now? Does she have her next husband lined up?" Joyce's profession of choice is marriage. She's had a string of husbands and leaves each marriage with a settlement. She moves on to the next husband when she runs through her cash settlement from the last husband.

"Nope," Connie says with a smirk. "I heard that she's got such a skanky reputation and so much plastic surgery that no guy would even consider marrying her now. Or at least not the kind of guy she targets. You know, the ones with money."

A-ha! Joyce Barnhardt just jumped to the top of my suspect list. She may be resorting to blackmail as a way of making money if she can't hook a husband. The conversation turns to other 'Burg gossip and after a while I stand up and stretch.

"Well, ladies, this has been fun, but I have a few things I need to do this afternoon." I start cleaning up the mess from lunch. Connie holds open a trash bag for me to dump everything into, and Lula offers to toss the bag in the dumpster on the way out to track down a skip.

After saying our good-byes, I walk out into the blistering Trenton summer sunshine and gingerly climb into the Explorer. Leather seats are nice, but boy do they burn the legs! After cranking the A/C up as high as it'll go, I motor off towards the Rangeman office on Haywood. It's time to drop off the evidence Vinnie gave me last night. After that, maybe I'll go back to my apartment and run a search on Joyce using the new search programs on my new computer.