"So what's the plan?" I asked as we hopped into Ranger's Porsche. Ranger pulled out of my parking lot and into traffic.
"I know a guy who owes me a favor. I'm borrowing some of his merchandise to entice your friend, Rocky."
I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of merchandise are we talking here?"
"Something that's not going to be on display in a pawn shop. Let's just say I have a feeling the dealer on 10th might be running a small side business as a go-between for some less-than-reputable entrepreneurs."
I shifted in my seat. "Should I be concerned about any of this? Am I going to wind up in prison?"
Ranger looked over at me and twitched a small smile. "I'll take the wrap for this one if things go south. But everything should be fairly straight forward," he added. "Rocky will take the bait, we'll make the capture, and you can make rent for another month or two."
"I already have rent money for this month actually," I said a little indignantly. It was all the months that followed that were kind of in the gray area. "I have some different plans for my Rocky funds."
"Yeah?" Ranger asked curiously. "Purchasing another vehicle?"
How did he always know about my car problems?
"Something wrong?"
I shook my head. "Well I had other plans for my take-down money. Up until last week. Another Stephanie Plum car bit the dust."
Ranger raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried about that?" Maybe he didn't know about my recent car troubles.
"No. This one died of natural causes. The stupid thing wouldn't start. The guy at the shop said it was a lost cause. Been bumming rides off of Connie and Lula lately."
Ranger gave me a look but didn't say anything else on the matter. Eventually we pulled into a neighborhood and parked along the curb.
"What are we doing here?" I asked glancing around.
"Waiting for Rocky to surface." Ranger unhooked his seat belt and reclined his seat a little.
"This looks a little too domestic and residential for his taste." From what I'd gathered, the guy was a professional bum. He slept, ate, and breathed life on the streets.
"Not exactly what you'd expect, right?" Ranger pointed to a house across the way. "The Wankowskis left on a cruise last weekend, and rumor has it that Mr. Wankowski has a safe with some interesting collectables."
I rolled my eyes. "Wonder who could have started those rumors." Ranger grinned. "What was really in his safe?"
"Just a few valuables and a stash of cash from a big win in Atlantic City."
"You broke into his home and his safe to stage this whole thing?"
"It's not quite as bad as it sounds. Mr. Wankowski is a Rangeman client. We're keeping a really close eye on everything. Besides, the extra security measures are more for his electronics and software, which we've already moved to a safe location until this sting operation is over. The house will probably be in better condition when we're through than when we started."
"Except a creepy thief will have broken in to steal their stuff." Having an intruder of any kind was no matter to take lightly. And I would know.
"Yeah, except for that. The stuff in the safe's not really theirs though. The house is more of a prop. We're setting the stage."
I raised an eyebrow. "For some strange reason I didn't imagine you as someone who'd get all wrapped up in theatrics."
Ranger's expression turned a bit more serious. "I've got a theory about Rocky, and if my theory's correct, I think we're going to need all the extra theatrical help we can get. I'm pretty sure Rocky's a professional."
I took a moment to ponder the idea. Rocky was obviously a skilled thief, but I had a hard time picturing him as a professional anything. He was homeless and a well-known face among the street communities.
"You're kidding, right?"
Ranger shook his head. "He might have fallen on some hard times or maybe he got mixed up with the wrong people. My guess is that he was double-crossed. Probably by someone who wanted his resources restricted. May be how he got caught in the first place."
I was still having a little trouble imagining it, but the possibility wasn't exactly unfathomable. Heck, he'd done a pretty decent job passing for an older man. Maybe Rocky as a professional con artist wasn't that big of a stretch after all.
"From what I've gleaned from my sources," Ranger continued. "This guy definitely knows what he's doing."
It actually made me feel a little better about not being able to bring him in on my own. I'd been dealing with someone who outsmarted the authorities as a profession. A funny thought crossed my mind, but I decided to put it on the back burner for now until I had more time for processing.
"How sure are you that he'll make his move today?" I asked.
"It's trash collection day. There's going to be some commotion with the trucks. I figured he'd want to use it to his advantage as a distraction. It's what I'd do anyway." Ranger's innate ability to use a situation to his advantage was pretty cool. And maybe a little scary. Probably a good thing for the world that he decided to use his talents for good rather than evil.
I looked across the street. It seemed like most people had already left for work or whatever activities they had planned for the day. Everything looked motionless and dead.
"So what now?" I asked afraid I already knew the answer.
"We wait."
Oh good. Sitting and waiting while doing absolutely nothing was my favorite activity. Especially when it involved a slippery skip who was making my life miserable. At least the company wasn't so bad.
I watched Ranger slip into his combat surveillance mode. His breathing slowed, his heartrate slowed, and his body went completely still. If his eyes were closed, he could probably pass for a pretty convincing cadaver.
My body had never fully mastered the art of being that still. Except maybe following the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners at my parents' house. Mostly I kept myself in a constant state of motion, which made boring stakeouts like this practically torture.
I started counting the windows on the houses. Then I moved on to counting the roof shingles. I thought about counting the blades of grass along the sidewalk but decided to pretend I could make out goofy shapes in the clouds instead. After what felt like an hour of my keeping-busy activities, I decided to glance at the clock on my phone. Only five minutes had gone by!
Since I had all this extra time on my hands, I decided to be a little more productive and deleted all the old text messages that were probably clogging up my in-box. Then I moved on to pictures. After flipping through most of them, I came to the conclusion that I really wasn't much of a phone photographer.
Another ten minutes passed, and I could feel some pent-up energy start to rumble near the surface. I started silently counting. Maybe I could make it to a million before actually losing my mind. I was almost to five hundred when my foot started tapping involuntarily.
Ranger glanced over at me. "Feeling antsy, babe?"
I sighed and stopped the mental count at six hundred fifty. "Can I step outside to stretch my legs? I think I could use some fresh air."
He gave me a look. "You might blow our cover."
It was a valid point. Guess it was time for more counting and foot-tapping. I couldn't remember where I'd left off, so I decided to start over. Ranger let out a small breath that carried a subtle hint of annoyance. He put his hand on my knee to stop the foot-tapping.
"You never finished telling me what you were planning on using the money for," he said. "Before the car trouble." It was an obvious attempt at distraction, but I welcomed it nonetheless.
"I was starting to plan a vacation."
Ranger's attention was still focused on the house, but I could tell he was genuinely listening.
"Where to?"
I hesitated with my response hoping it didn't sound too stupid. "Somewhere with some sun, sand, and crystal blue waters."
A wolfish grin spread across Ranger's face. "Planning a return trip to Hawaii?"
I felt my face flush. Ranger and I had been on a working trip to Hawaii before. Except it had somehow morphed into more play than work. At least up until the point when Morelli showed up to surprise me. What followed was nothing short of an apocalyptic disaster. The level of awkwardness back home was astronomically high for some time, and I had absolutely no desire for a repeat experience.
"I was thinking more along the lines of California, or if it's not too out of my price range maybe one of the islands in the Caribbean."
Ranger snuck a glance my direction. "Tell you what, regardless of what happens with Rocky, when this is all over, I'll take you on a vacation. One week anywhere you want to go."
I gave him a look. "You can afford to be gone from Rangeman for an entire week?"
Ranger shrugged. "I'm sure I could manage something."
I didn't really know what to do with the offer. Who would be dumb enough to turn down a free vacation? Someone avoiding potential heartbreak. Or someone plagued by an overabundance of guilt. Both of those someones just so happened to be me. Still, the offer was way too tantalizing to not at least consider.
My mind started running with the thought of sprawling on a sandy beach. I could almost feel the sun warming my skin. Then I shifted mental gears to beach attire. The gear shift stalled at the idea of Ranger in swim trunks. I licked my lips to make sure I hadn't been drooling.
"Everything ok over there?" Ranger asked. "You were making noises."
"Sorry. The donuts must not be sitting very well."
Ranger's mouth twitched. He started to say something but was suddenly interrupted by his phone ringing. His facial expression grew serious and even darkened a little before the call ended.
"Is there a problem?" I asked.
"The tracker we planted on the stuff in the safe is in motion. Somehow we missed Rocky."
I glanced over at the house. There hadn't been any sign of activity the entire time we'd been in the car. No motion sensors triggered. Nothing.
"How?"
"Good question. Tank's going to text me the coordinates from the signal. With any luck, they'll lead us to Rocky."
I was starting to get one of those classic bad feelings about all of this. After a few additional moments of silence, Ranger's phone buzzed with the coordinates from the trackers. We took off down the road, but it didn't take either of us very long to realize where we were headed. Ranger's expression grew even darker.
"The signal's coming from your apartment building," he said. I frowned. I had a pretty good idea where the signal was probably originating from.
Sure enough. We made it up to my apartment on the second floor, and the lock was busted. I had a moment of panic when I considered the safety of my hamster, Rex. Ranger slowly pushed the door open, and I raced to his habitat to check on him. Two sleepy eyes glanced up at me from his soup can, and I let out a small sigh of relief.
"Rex is ok," I called.
Ranger was looking at something on the kitchen counter. He didn't look too happy. I came and stood next to him to get a better look. There were two small electronic gizmos sitting next to a note.
"Clever. Thanks for the priceless pieces. Until next time, Plum," it said.
Ranger muttered a few inaudible expletives before regaining his composure. "I'm not sure it's safe for you to stay here right now," he said. "This guy apparently knows where you live."
"He doesn't seem interested in doing me any serious harm at this point. I think I'll be ok."
"At least let me have the guys drop by to install a few new locks. Maybe a panic room."
I sighed. "Yes to the new locks. No to the panic room. You worry too much. This guy's probably harmless. He just likes to play stupid games." Frustrating and irritating games. Games that made me want to shoot raging laser beams from my eyes.
"And I may have to take back my offer for the vacation."
"Oh?"
"I figure I've got around forty-eight hours to get back what was in the safe."
"Or what?"
"Or I'm going to be out a shitload of money."
I wasn't sure I really wanted to know, but I decided to ask the question anyway. "What exactly was in the safe?"
"Some forgeries." He said it so casually like he dealt with this sort of thing on a daily basis. Who knows? Maybe he did.
"You'd owe money on something that's a fake?" I asked incredulously.
"They were state of the art. Very nearly undetectable. Altogether they probably would have gone for around a quarter of a million dollars."
I choked on a swallow of spit. "A quarter of a million dollars? You took a gamble on a quarter of a million dollars?"
"A mistake I won't be repeating, I can assure you," he frowned. No kidding.
