I was late to work. I hated being late to work. And they don't serve freaking French fries at McDonalds until 10:30 in the morning! What kind of crap is that? A girl needs her French fries after a night with Lula.

I sank down in my chair with a groan of misery. My head was pounding and my mouth felt like it had kitty litter in it. This was not the way to start a day. I needed a weekend off and I needed it desperately. But I didn't need to tell Lula where I was going.

Brian entered my office an hour later bearing a super size coke and super size fries. "I brought you a present."

"Oh man," I groaned plucking a couple of fries from the box and stuffing them into my mouth. "You are good boyfriend material."

"Thanks, McDonalds sends their apologies," he said in amusement and sank to the chair in front of me.

"Ya know Brian," I said with my mouth full of fries. "I don't normally drink this much. You've caught me on a bad week. I swear to it."

He grinned, "When I ordered your fries and drinks at the McDonalds they asked if you were feeling real bad. They know your order. This can't be a coincidence."

"Shit," I winced. "That was the old Stephanie. The new Stephanie has just had a bad week."

"Right," he raised a brow. "Betty Sue sends her regards."

"I thought she was moving to Philly?"

"She said you'd say that. She said to tell you the wedding is off."

"Oh that's too bad," I sighed.

"Anyway…you're infamous."

"Yea," I nodded. "I thought moving to the burbs would help."

"You just need a husband to keep you in line."

"I need something," I agreed. "Are you sure you want to get involved with someone like me?"

"Yes, I am sure," he grinned.

"Okay," I sipped my coke. "Thank you for this. Just for this, I'll let you sleep with me."

"Gee thanks," he laughed.

I reached for my ringing phone, "Stephanie Plum."

"Stephanie…its Joe," he said quietly. "I hear you're working with the feds on the Wilhelm Stray case."

"Yea," I said in agreement. If Joe was calling, it was bad news.

"We found a body today. You probably want to get down here and bring the federal boys with you."

"Whose body did you find," I frowned. I feared hearing Marilyn's name. I also feared that it wouldn't be her. If she wasn't dead, she was now our prime suspect.

"Clyde Mayberry," he said tiredly. "We found him in the river this morning. He's been dead a couple of days. He was shot in the head. It was a fucking execution."

I groaned. How could I be wrong about Marilyn? I had known this girl my entire life. If she could be a killer, then my mother could be robbing banks and I didn't know it. This was not good. "Thanks Joe. We'll be there shortly." I hung up and looked over at Brian.

"What happened," he frowned.

"Get the boy blunder; we need to go downtown to the cop shop."

"What happened," he reiterated.

"They found Clyde Mayberry's body in the river."

"Oh shit," he shook his head.

"He's been dead a couple of days. It looks like an execution."

"I'll get Brady."

"I'll get Tank," I sighed.

Joe ushered us into his precinct conference room. It was the room they gave the detectives and street cops their shift orders. It was filled with tables for four with chairs behind them. I sat down between Tank and Brian making sure that Brady was on the other side of Brian and waited for Joe and his chief to join us. When they did join us, they were accompanied by the coroner.

"Steph, Tank…oh Agent Goodman," Joe said shaking our hands. "It's good see you back."

"This is my new partner Agent Brady Marcos," Brian said introducing the two men.

"Nice to meet you," Joe shook his hand. "This is my Chief. Chief Mark Patton. You know everyone but the federal boys. And this is our coroner, Dr. Wilson McDavid. I've asked him to join us because there are some oddities about the body."

"I thought you said he appeared to have been executed," I frowned.

"I did and he was. But there are oddities. It appears that he was…his body that is to say…Dr. McDavid, why don't you take this one."

"Sure," the man adjusted his glasses and consulted his notes. "The deceased was found in the river at approximately 6:45am by a fisherman."

"Who fishes in this weather," I blinked.

The doctor shrugged, "anyway he was DOA. He had a single bullet head in the middle of his head. His death was instantaneous. His body was then…er…mutilated."

"Mutilated how," Brian asked.

"His fingers were cut off as well as his toes and his nipples and his…"

"Genitalia," Tank suggested grimly.

"All three parts," the doctor nodded.

The men sat in silence for a moment and then shuddered in unison. I just shook my head. "And those wounds were all post mortem?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"How long had he been in the water, could you tell?"

"Since shortly after his death," the doctor nodded. "There was very little damage to the body due to the current temperature of the river. There are relatively small numbers of fish in the water who would have…dined on him."

Joe interrupted, "He was easy to identify and his wallet was with his body. We checked his dentals and it's definitely Mr. Mayberry. Are there any other questions for the doctor?"

"No," I frowned and the men shook their heads. "Do you have a suspect," I asked after Dr. McDavid left the room.

"The only viable suspect at this time is Marilyn Dinks," Joe said seriously, "and she's disappeared."

"Yea," I nodded.

"She doesn't have a criminal record," Tank reminded them. "The kind of things done to Mr. Mayberry's body suggests that the person who did them had killed and mutilated before. A person doesn't just turn thirty-five years old and start murdering and mutilating. It's just not probable. I don't see Ms. Dinks as a suspect in that case."

"It does seem unlikely," Brian said shaking his head.

I had a glimmer of hope that the Trenton cops would see the logic of things, but that was quickly dispelled.

"At this point," the chief said clearing his throat, "Marilyn Dinks is the most likely suspect. She and the deceased had a relationship of the sexual nature and it is possible that this murder has to do with the failure of their relationship versus the murder of Wilhelm Stray and the theft of his research. We will continue to seek her as the prime suspect in this crime. If you'll excuse me," he finished and left us in the room.

"You've got to be kidding," I raised my brow at Joe.

"It's a reasonable assumption," he said stiffly.

"There's nothing reasonable about it," I said straightening in my chair.

Brian reached under the table and put his hand on my leg. "You must pursue your own ideas, allow us to pursue ours."

"Of course," Joe nodded.

The four of us walked out together in silence.

"What now," Brady said with a sigh.

"We pursue our own suspects," Brian said seriously.

"Who are our own suspects," Tank asked.

"I have no fucking idea," he sighed.

"I think I'll start by digging deeper into Clyde Mayberry's life. Maybe there's something there."

"And I'll get on the asses of our research people to send over the rest of the story," Brian said grimly.

"That would be helpful," Tank said drily.

"See you at the office," I said heading for the Rangeman truck parked on the other side of the lot.

"I like him," Tank said as we walked.

"What," I blinked.

"I like Goodman," he said.

"I do too," I nodded.

"He seems like a good guy."

"He is a good guy," I nodded.

"Be careful Steph," he said softly.

I sighed, "What are you telling me to be careful of?"

"He's a nice guy. He doesn't deserve to go through what Joe deservedly went through."

"You mean with Ranger?"

"Yea," he nodded fastening his seatbelt and starting the truck.

"Ranger and I have grown," I said softly. "There won't be any more alley encounters."

"Are you sure about that?"

I sighed. I wished I could be sure about that. "No."

"Then…don't make any promises you can't keep."

"Heard and understood," I said quietly. "Let's get back to the office please."

He didn't say anything else. He didn't need to.

My background check on Clyde Mayberry turned up diddly squat. The guy was a freaking boy scout. To be precise he was an eagle scout. He graduated from MIT magna cum laude. He was a genius. I am not really sure why he went to work for Stray. He was working for a very prestigious research facility and by all accounts he was successful and climbing the ladder of success at a very good rate. He took the job with Stray for less money. It made no sense to me. But those scientific types never did make that much sense.

Clyde grew up in a small town in Kansas called Salina that is supposed to be the geographical center of the contiguous United States. His father was a doctor who died in a car accident about ten years prior. His mother was a housewife, also deceased. She died of breast cancer about four years prior. He had never married, nor had he ever been in what was considered a serious long term relationship. He was a loner. He played online video games. His game of choice was World Of Warcraft. He was the epitome of the definition of nerd.

Marilyn didn't usually go for nerdy types as I recalled. Marilyn went for biker boys. Yet, these two men had only four things in common. They were both world class physicists. They were both graduates of MIT. They had both schtupped Marilyn Dink. And they were both dead. So finding a pattern for them should have been easier than it was. I decided to forgo the Marilyn angle as well as the research angle and go to the MIT angle. It was the only one that made sense. It was the only reason I could see they would have been together in the first place.

Studying the MIT connection turned out to be easier than I suspected. Wilhelm Stray had guest lectured there when Clyde was in graduate school. Clyde had been assigned to him by the physics department and had followed him around like a lovesick puppy according to everything I heard. I also found out that Stray had asked Clyde to come to Germany to assist him on this particular research project. Apparently, he had been impressed by Clyde's sucking up prowess and needed him around for more.

Something about the whole scenario ticked my spidey sense. Somewhere in the MIT connection was the answer. I knew it. I just couldn't figure out what it was.

I talked to some of Clyde's former co-workers. They had the same impression of him that I did. He was the king of the nerds. His god was Wilhelm Stray. Wilhelm was a successful physicist who not only made news with his research but also was good with the ladies. Old Clyde wasn't so good with the ladies. One of his coworkers said that in that respect, Clyde was the guy the movie Forty Year Old Virgin was based on. I admit it, I laughed out loud when he told me that.

Brian appeared in my office just as I got off the phone with the coworker.

"Something funny," he asked sinking to the chair in front of my desk.

"Clyde was like Morty when it came to the ladies," I giggled.

He winced, "I got them to fax over the rest of the research. I doubt you need it though."

"I doubt I do," I took the pages from him and skimmed them. I raised my head, "you need to fire your research team. They pretty much suck. I've been working on Mayberry for four hours and I have three times the material they do. Do you know he was addicted to WOW?"

"WOW," he blinked at me in confusion.

"World of Warcraft," I grinned. "It's an online gaming network. You know first person kill thrills. His gamer name was Mayberry. He was such a creative guy."

"I don't get it. How does that help us?"

"In a couple of ways," I said seriously. "Marilyn Dinks wasn't into nerds. Marilyn Dinks was into tough guys. She tried the whole Arthur Miller route in high school but the smart guys bored her. She was only interested in the bad boys. She dated Joe for a while. I mean of course, that she provided him with sexual satisfaction. She was a bit of a local legend slut-wise. She experimented and she knew what she liked. She didn't like nerds. She liked bad boys. So why suddenly did she change her spots and go after two nerds? It makes as much sense as her suddenly becoming a sadist of some sort and mutilating corpses. I'm telling you Brian there's something fishy about the whole thing."

"I am going to take your word on that," he nodded. "I got a phone call from the office about something else. A couple of representatives from Interpol are on their way here. Our office informed them about Mayberry. They're convinced the Stray's killer is here. They want to interview Morty and do their own search on Marilyn."

I just grinned at him.

"What's so funny?"

"You think a couple of feds from DC got no information in the burg? Interpol isn't going to get squat." I got to my feet and headed for the door to catch Tank up. "I hope they're smarter than you guys about availing themselves of my services."

He sighed, "I said I was sorry."

I kept walking with a grin, "I heard you."