Two notes - didn't send out an update notice last time I updated, so have a look at Chapter 27 if you're not sure if you've read it. The text in Italics spoken by Junkman is directly from Ten Big Ones by Janet Evanovich, I didn't write it! The text fit perfectly with my version of the story so I decided to include that snippet and keep Junkman as he was in the book.

Dickie was not happy when he arrived home and saw the Porsche. He knew straight away who it belonged to. I guess I was right when I thought that it was only Ranger and drug dealers who had that model car in Trenton.

"Are you for real, Stephanie? Don't you see an issue with this?"

"No. He said that he was going away for a week and wouldn't be using it."

"Carlos Manoso just lent you his Porsche 911 and I'm not supposed to think anything of it? Do you think he goes around lending sports cars to all his clients?"

"What exactly are you accusing me of, Dickie?" I asked, gritting my teeth.

"Nothing! But I don't trust him. He wants something."

"Probably for one of the clients from his security company to not be murdered in their home by gang related violence?"

Dickie paused. It seemed that made sense to him. Or maybe it just stopped him from arguing. Either way I thought it was better to not mention the addition of the cameras at the moment.

"I have to go away for work. One of the senior partners is having an issue with a client and wants me to go to the Cayman Islands where the client lives with him. I'll be gone at least a week, maybe two. Do you want to come with me? It might be safer for you there, and there's a beach," Dickie said. I thought for a minute. I'd never gone with Dickie before because he worried about security on his trips. He usually didn't go away for so long though and two weeks beside the beach, not having to worry about Trenton gangs sounded like the best idea I'd heard in a long time. Then I realised something, and hit my head.

"Ugh! My passport!"

"What?"

"I never got my passport renewed after it expired. We hardly ever travel so I just figured that I'd renew it next time we planned a vacation. I can't go."

"Seriously?"

"I could apply for a rushed passport, sometimes you can get those in a few days," I told him.

"I need to leave tomorrow morning."

"I'll apply on Monday and join you as soon as I can," I told Dickie.

It seemed like the best plan. Especially with Rangeman keeping on eye on the place, what could go wrong? Also I had a Porsche to drive.

Dickie left the next morning, and I got up and wandered aimlessly around the house before deciding to visit my parents and to take Grandma for a ride in the Porsche.

"Look at that," Grandma said, sliding her teeth around her mouth. "You must have a good insurance company if you get that as a replacement vehicle when yours is getting fixed."

I didn't bother to correct her, and instead drove her past Clara's beauty parlour, the senior centre, her friend Mabel's house, and then to the bakery to get doughnuts. We took them home to share with my parents. My father eyed the black Porsche with suspicion, but that was the same way he looked at all non-American cars, so I figured it wasn't going to cause any issues.

"Do you want to stay for lunch?" my mother asked. "There's pineapple upside down cake."

Uh oh. I suddenly had a bad feelings if she was breaking out the cake bribe already.

We sat down to eat, and my mother looked over at me. "I was down at the deli getting lunch meat, and Sheila Markowitz told me that there's a gang hit out on you. A gang hit, Stephanie! What did you do?"

"Nothing! And there's no gang hit. I was a witness to a robbery that was committed by a gang member, and there was some graffiti on my car and house, that's all. I've reported it to the police, and they're taking it seriously, and my home security company has stepped up their surveillance, and I'm sure it will be all sorted out soon. But there's no hit, I promise. Sheesh, isn't there any better gossip around?" I asked. My mother didn't look reassured. I made a sandwich and ate it, figuring that she'd stop asking questions if I had my mouth full of food.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"That sounds exciting," Grandma said. "If some gang members came after me, I'd shoot them. I keep my gun on me at all times so I'm always ready. See?" She pulled out a hang gun from out of her hand bag that was hanging off the back of the car next to her and waved it around. My father ducked, but kept eating. My mother rushed over and grabbed the gun off Grandma.

"I thought I'd hidden this well enough," she said.

"I'm an old lady, I have rights. I need a gun," Grandma said.

"She got it at a yard sale, there's no way it's legal," my mother told me, disappearing with the gun and reappearing a few minutes later. Grandma looked thoughtful and I knew that she was figuring out where the gun had been hidden this time.

"Maybe you should give the gun to Stephanie for protection," she said.

"No! That's fine. I don't need one," I said. My father finished eating and looked around expectantly, and my mother rushed back to the kitchen and brought out the cake. We all had a big slice of cake, and my mother packed up a piece for me to take with me. I said goodbye, made an excuse to go, and left.

Ranger had told me to take the car for a drive, and I believed him when he said that me being seen in the car might make the Slayers think twice about their campaign against me, so I decided to go for a drive. Ten minutes later I decided that driving aimlessly was a bit boring. I hit the GPS and decided to snoop. There was nothing programmed in but when I hit the history button, addresses came up. I had a look at the map. I couldn't see anywhere on there that looked like a likely spot for Ranger to live. Mostly it was the Rangeman building on Haywood. I thought about visiting Val and the girls, or Mary Lou and her boys, but decided against it. Instead I drove out to Point Pleasant for the day and walked along the boardwalk and got a corn dog. Sometimes it was nice to be by myself.

I'd just gotten home from my day at the shore, relaxed and stuffed full of fried foods, gone inside and re-set the alarm, and gone upstairs to shower, when my phone rang. It was Morelli. Why did I feel like this wasn't going to be good news?

"This isn't good news," he began. "The word from our informers is that there's a hit out on you. They're getting a hitman named Junkman in from the California Slayers. Junkman apparently had four targets and your name was mentioned on the list. This is serious, Steph, you need to be careful. Is Dickie home?"

"No," I said, feeling faint. "He had to go to the Cayman Islands to help one of the law firm partners."

"He should be far enough out of the way to be fine, so don't worry about him. Maybe you should have gone with him."

"My passport expired," I said, by way of explanation.

"Well, keep your phone by the bed, we'll have some extra patrols going by your house overnight, and be careful when you're out and about, okay?" Morelli said.

"Ugh," I said, flopping down on the bed. I didn't feel safe in my home since the Slayers knew where I lived. I made sure that the alarm was set before I went to bed and also put an assortment of pots and pans in front of the external doors for extra warning if someone tried to break in.

I woke up the next morning relieved to still be alive, and decided to eat a healthy breakfast so I was in tip top shape in case I needed to run for my life later that day. Dickie's healthy muesli was not enjoyable, and I managed to drink it all down, along with my (sugarless) coffee. I eyed off his container of grapefruit juice but decided that was going a step too far. I'd just have to be fast without it.

I got ready for work, and drove to the new office. We hadn't advertised our address anywhere yet, so I felt fairly confident that the Slayers wouldn't find me there. Mary Lou didn't work on Mondays, but there were other people in the nearby warehouses, so I wasn't alone. We'd been busy moving and getting settled in the new warehouse, so I spent the morning catching up on orders, packaging them up and sending them out.

I took a break at midday to post the parcels and went to a nearby cafe for lunch to reward myself for being so industrious. I'd just returned to the office after finishing off an excellent sandwich and fries when I got a call from Morelli. As was our theme lately, it wasn't good news.

"We've found the first gang member. We're not sure what order Junkman is looking for people in, or if he'd just doing it in whatever order he feels like, but be careful. This was messy. We think we've found all the parts but it's hard to be sure."

I felt cold. Maybe I was going into shock.

"Stephanie? Are you there?"

"I'm here."

"Are you okay?"

"There's a Slayer hitman after me, Joe, and you ask if I'm okay?"

"Bad question. What do you want to do?"

"I'm going to try to get my passport, then I'm going to the Cayman Islands, that's what."

Maybe fleeing gangsters and/or the Mob was a common reason in Trenton to request an emergency passport, but whatever the reason, the powers that process the passports were not impressed with my story. I paid for the rush fee and crossed my fingers that I'd have my passport within a few days. I just had to hang on until then.

It felt safer to stay around Trenton. At least I knew what out of place people looked like in The Burg. And with the gossip hotline, no one could go unspotted. Even the Johnson's cousins visiting from South Dakota got a mention on the gossip hotline.

I packed up my laptop and tidied up the office ready for the morning, then locked up. I didn't feel like I could go home. It didn't feel safe. I didn't feel like being on my own any more but didn't want to visit my family or Mary Lou in case the Slayers decided to track me down.

Then I had a random thought and drove to visit Dougie and Mooner. They spent most of their time at Mooner's house, but Dougie had a corner lot that I could park the car in to hide it. I was in luck, they were at Dougie's watching Star Trek and eating cheetos and didn't ask any questions as to why I was hiding a Porsche 911 in the backyard. Dougie had hidden more than that in the backyard, and Mooner was too stoned to care.

"Is that Batman's car?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. It's not the Batmobile. But I guess it could belong to Bruce Wayne?"

"Far out," Mooner said, then turned his thoughts back to the Starship Discovery.

I sat beside them on the couch, ate their snacks and zoned out to the sci fi. After a few hours of watching the crew of Star Trek problem solve, I felt brave enough to head home. The doors were watched by RangeMan, I reminded myself. It would be fine. Dougie helped me with getting the Porsche out of his backyard, then he and Mooner waved me off. With cheeto-filled optimism, I set off. I made it as far as the first stop sign.

When I stopped at the stop sign, there was a knock on the window. I looked over. There was a tall man beside the car. He gestured for me to wind down the window. I shook my head. Hell no. I stared at him. He was tall and well built. He was wearing a hoody and dark glasses and I couldn't see much of him beyond that.

Then I got curious and put the window down a crack so I could hear that he was saying. Damn it, Stephanie, curiosity isn't always a good thing.

"Nice car," he said.

"Un hunh."

"Yours?"

"For now."

"You know who I am?"

"No."

"You wanna know?"

"No."

"I'll tell you anyway," he said. "I'm your worst nightmare. I'm Junkman. And I'm not just gonna kill you… I'm gonna eat you alive. You can take that as a literal promise."

I was surprised at this point that I could still move. I'd thought that I was frozen in fear. I thought about squeaking out why me, but I sensed that Junkman was enjoying this moment. He'd been hoping to see my fear. I hoped that by not winding down the window, I was robbing him of some of that enjoyment. I knew he could hear my voice, but he couldn't see my face.

"I know who you are, and I can find you whenever I want to," he told me. "I'm going to be waiting for you. First I need to finish off a cop, then I'm coming for you. Make the most of your last hours on earth."

A black Hummer appeared down the road, and Junkman got into it and disappeared. I was too shaken to get the plate, but I don't think it would have mattered anyway.

I was driving Ranger's car but Junkman still approached me. He wanted me to know that he knew where I was. He wanted me afraid. I wasn't as safe as I thought. I was trying not to shake. Keep it together, Stephanie.

I drove off and headed for the highway. I was getting out of Trenton and far away from Junkman. My phone rang and I let it go to voicemail. Once I was out of Trenton city limits I pulled over into a well lit service station and parked. It didn't feel safe to be out of the car. I was fairly sure that if I stayed locked in the car, I would be safe. Maybe Ranger had bullet proof windows. He seemed like the type of guy to plan ahead and do that.

I called Morelli back.

"Junkman got his second gang member. We found the pieces of this one easier since we knew where to look."

"Junkman just approached me. Or someone saying he was Junkman did."

"Jesus, Stephanie. Where are you? Are you safe?"

"I'm driving around. I'm not going home."

"What did he look like?" Morelli asked. I described Junkman to him, even though I knew it was too vague to be helpful.

"Come into the station, we can keep you safe," Morelli started to argue with me so I hung up on him and ignored him when he called back. Soon he'd get Val to call me. Then maybe even Mary Lou. That made me pause. I wondered if Mary Lou would be safe at work if Junkman was looking for me. I texted her and told her not to come to work for a few days.

RU OK? Burg goss says gang hit? Mary Lou texted back.

Am OK. Being cautious. Don't come into office until you hear from me. Love you, I texted her. Then I started crying. I didn't know what to do. Probably going into the police station to Morelli would have been safest, but it didn't like the safe thing to do. I needed to come up with plan, and keep safe until I got my new passport and could run away. I pictured a warm beach, sand between my toes and a ginormous cocktail and felt better. Keep it together, Steph, and all that will be yours.

I put the car into gear and drove around. It smelled like Ranger and that made me feel safe. That also gave me an idea. It wasn't a good idea. In fact, it could be a very bad idea. But it came down to, who would I rather face? A gang hitman, or a Rangeman? I knew that I couldn't live in the 911 forever. For one thing, it was too small. If it had been a Cayenne, I'd have thought about it.

I looked at the keys. The fob looked like it would be used as a swipe card. I tried to remember what I knew about the RangeMan building. It was seven levels. Floor 5 was the control room and offices. The first floor was reception.

I drove to the building on Haywood and parked out the front. It was night time but I figured that there'd be someone watching the front door. I fluffed my hair up, put on more mascara and tried to hide that I'd been crying earlier, and then I got out of the car, watching for Slayers, and walked up to the door of the building. As I'd thought, I didn't need to wait long before the elevator doors opened and a man in black stepped out. It was Hal. He walked over to the door and pressed a button to open it.

"Hey Hal!" I said chirpily.

"Ms Plum?" he asked.

"Ranger lent me his car, but I don't need it anymore, so I'm just returning it," I told him. Hal looked uncertain. "Did I park in the wrong place?" I asked.

"No, that's all right, I can move the car into the garage."

"Oh good. He told me to park there when I was ready to return the car, but I was worried that I'd gotten it all confused," I fibbed and beamed at Hal in my best ditzy Jersey girl impression. I held the key out to him. Hal glanced at it.

"Do you want me to drive you anywhere?"

"Oh no, no I'm fine, my dad will come and pick me up," I told him.

"Jump in and I'll park the car, then you can wait in the Control Room for him," Hal suggested.

Well an invitation into the building beat sneaking in, I guess. I hopped into the passenger side of the Porsche and Hal drove us around the side of the building and into an underground garage, using a fob similar to mine to swipe open the garage doors. He parked in front of the elevator, next to an empty spot, Ranger's black truck and the Cayenne. I opened my door and got out to join Hal by the elevator door.

We got into the elevator and Hal pressed the button for Floor 5. "Oh, is it Floor 5? I thought it was Floor 4," I said.

"No, 4 is staff apartments," Hal said.

"Oh I thought they were on the higher floors," I tried out.

"No," Hal said. Apparently he'd reached his word limit. We got out of the elevator on five and Hal walked back over and looked at the monitors. Apparently my arrival had saved him from monitor duty, as Lester's head popped over the bank of screens.

"Glad to see you back, Hal, this was getting boring," Lester said. "Hello Ms Plum, is there a problem with the Porsche?"

"No, I just don't need to use it anymore. I wouldn't want Ranger to think that I was taking advantage of his good nature," I said, and Lester snorted. Apparently Ranger didn't have a good nature.

"Why don't you hold on to the keys? In case you want to use the car," Lester suggested.

"I don't think I'll be needing a car for a while. I'll call you if I do. Thanks though," I told him.

"I was just about to take my dinner break. Do you want to join me?" he asked. I could smell something delicious coming out of the break room. We walked into the break room and I could see a stew in a crockpot with freshly baked bread beside it. There was a second, smaller crockpot which smelled like a berry cobbler.

"I thought you only ate healthy foods," I told Lester.

"Ranger isn't here so we can relax for a few days. It's still healthy, just not twigs and berries level," he told me. We helped ourselves to a plate of food and sat down at the table to eat. We'd eaten half of our meal, mostly in silence (judging from how quickly he ate, Lester was hungry) when a noise sounded in the room. It wasn't quite an alarm, but was an urgent sounding tone.

"Excuse me," Lester said, as he got up and walked quickly out of the room. "SitRep!" I could hear him yelling. Hal responded, and then there was a flurry of activity.

I finished eating as I listened to them getting organised – it sounded like a break-in at a store with the team on site needing back-up. I covered Lester's plate and put it in the fridge, then washed up my plate and put it away. I saw disposable containers in the cupboard next to the plates so I took two and filled them with the stew and dessert. This was kind of like having dinner with my parents, except I was helping myself to the leftovers. I peeked out at the quiet control room. Only Hal was at the monitors and he looked surprised to see me. Apparently with all the commotion, Hal had forgotten that I was in the break room.

"My ride is here, thanks Hal," I said, waving to him. He nodded then went back to watching the screens intently.

I stepped into the elevator and took a deep breath. If this didn't work, I was out of ideas. I remembered Ranger telling me that he was a workaholic and understood how I felt about working from home and starting up a business. I remembered that Big Dog thought his address was a vacant lot when it was the building at Haywood. I swiped the fob and pressed 7 for the highest floor.