Chapter 21

Givens awoke with a groan and then heaved himself off of me. "Shit."

"Whoa! Stay down," Tim ordered, pushing him back to the ground as he tried to stand. "No moving around until the EMTs get here. Besides, the ammo in the Explorer is going to go up any second." He crouched next to me. "You Jersey girls really know how to party."

I sat up slowly, suddenly aware of a buzzing in my pocket. Ranger, calling to check in on me.

"See?" he said. "I told you that you could do it. How's the marshal?"

"He covered me so he got the worst of it. The Explorer didn't make out so well either." I told him about the front door and the ammo that was about to go boom.

"Babe."

Just then, the ammo went up and the three of us hit the dirt. A hubcap sailed over my head and imbedded itself in a tree trunk with a loud 'thunk'. We all stared at it.

"Shit," Tim complained. "My good rifle was in there! I popped Doyle Bennett with that rifle. I loved that rifle. Damn!"

When I put the phone back to my ear, Ranger was chuckling. "Who's that?"

"Another marshal. Tim Gutterson."

There was a pause. "Tell the marshals Christmas is coming early. I'm sending Hal with a replacement vehicle and stocking it with all their favorite toys. And tell Gutterson I said, Rangers lead the way."

"Okay." No toys for me? Really?

"Are you pouting?"

"I almost got blown up and you think I'm pouting?"

Ranger chuckled, low and sexy. "I'm sending toys for you, too, but your favorite ones are going to have to wait until you're back in Trenton."

Oh boy.

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Trooper Tom Bergen cut his eyes to me, to the smoldering remains of the house and then to what was left of the Explorer. The firemen were busy hosing down everything and the pissy female sheriff from Harlan was yelling orders to her men. Givens and I were side by side in an ambulance, having our cuts and burns taken care of. Tim was on the phone, explaining the situation to his boss and probably getting an earful because none of us were where we were supposed to be.

Bergen shook his head and handed Givens his hat. "I found this a little ways up the road. It's dusty but in perfect condition, unlike your car."

"That's Stephanie's car," Givens told him.

"Any chance you might be thinking about leaving this to the professionals and heading back to Jersey?" Trooper Tom asked me.

Tim lowered his cell phone. "Stephanie is a professional, Tom. She's racking up as much damage as Raylan does on one of his cases, without all the training and years of experience he has. I'd say she's a natural."

Trooper Tom rolled his eyes and went over to talk to the sheriff.

Givens shot Tim one of those feral looks but it wasn't as effective with the big butterfly bandage over his eye. He turned to me. "That was good thinking in there."

"Thank Ranger. He talked me through it." I winced as an EMT cleaned a cut on my cheek. "He's sending Hal with another car and he said to you guys Christmas is coming early. Tim, he said something about Rangers leading the way."

Tim cocked his head. "This guy Ranger, is that 'ranger' as in Army?"

"Tim was a sniper for the Rangers," Givens said.

Did Tim and Ranger know each other? "His real name is Ricardo Carlos Manoso."

"Holy shit!" Tim exclaimed. "The guy's a legend. What's your connection to him?"

"He freelances for my cousin and sometimes we work together," I shrugged. I could have mentioned the incredible sex but then I'd have had to kill everyone.

Just then, Hal pulled up in a shiny black Cayenne. He got out and waved to us and then disappeared back into the darkness. It was eerie how he disappeared and I wondered how he was going to get back to civilization without transportation.

Tim went over to inspect the SUV, whistling softly. "He just gives you these, knowing your track record?"

"He thinks it's funny," Givens said, turning to wink at me and whispering, "One more and I win the pool."

Before I could roll my eyes, Tim came bounding over. "Manoso wasn't kidding about Christmas. There's all kinds of gear in the back of that thing. How the heck did he put all that together so fast?"

"He's Ranger," I said.

Givens staggered to his feet. His blazer was torn and dusty and he looked exhausted. Still, he managed to flash me one of those flirty grins and I knew he had an ulterior motive. "Before we go back to face Art, how about we go talk to the Widow Daley? I have the naggin' feeling we missed something."

I had the same feeling.

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We pulled into the driveway of the Daley house but the house looked empty. There were no cars in the driveway and all the lights were off. When we got to the front door, we discovered it was ajar.

Tim drew his gun and was about to go in when Givens grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Careful. We got a killer that likes to blow shit up with booby traps." He turned to me. "Speakin' of blowin' shit up, you have my backup gun?"

I shook my head. "I left it in the house. Sorry."

"Dude, there's like an arsenal in the back of the Cayenne. Pick a new one. Pick four. Just leave me the Sig," Tim whispered. "It's the newest 226."

"Maybe we should come back and do this in daylight," I suggested. One exploding house was enough for me. I was ready for a shower, a beer and crawling under the covers.

Givens turned to me. "That woman and her kids could be in trouble. You sure waiting until daylight is the right thing to do, Junior Marshal Plum?"

Stephanie Plum, Chickenshit Bounty Hunter would gladly have waited for daylight and Navy SEALs instead of going into a pitch-black house that could be booby trapped. Junior Marshal Plum, armed with half a plastic badge meant for a kid, was going to go into that house and try not to run out screaming. "Okay, Senior Marshal Givens. Lead the way."

Tim smirked and nodded in approval at the way I just manipulated Givens.

"Tim, do we have flashlights in our arsenal? The one in my pocket is busted from the explosion."

The younger marshal whistled a tune that vaguely resembled 'Jersey Girl' as he opened the back of the Cayenne and pulled out three flashlights. "Anybody want a gun? There's a whole bunch back here."

"No!" I said.

Givens stared hard at me. "We're goin' to the range, you and me, and you're gonna learn to get comfortable with firearms. I read your file. You're a decent shot under pressure and the life you're livin', you're gonna need to be more than just decent."

He had a point.

"Okay, junior marshals, ready?"

Gulp.