Where the money would come from was another story. That's why I didn't bother arguing and let Ranger help my through my day of skips.

Lonnie Balasko, a real stinker, was first up. He lived at Pleasant Side retirement home. Old folks are no fun to bring in. They smell like the dead, they walk funny, and they put up a fight. Old people have more energy than I do, it's sad to say. He was charged with batterment and rape of one of his students. Lonnie had all the old man traits. Things hung loose in places it shouldn't have, he walked with a limp, and he smelled horrible.

Ranger hated the anchient as much as I did. Lucky him, it wasn't his skip. He called Tank and arranged for a pick-up, refusing to put liquid-bones in his back seat.

And like old people did, he made quite a scene. Refused to cooperate and pulled a colt out of his shorts. I just though he had one hell of an erection. Ranger catapuleted into action, diving out of the Bronco and barreling across the parking lot. He knocked the gun out of Mr. Balasko's hand, only to find it wasn't loaded.

"Shit." He said solemly, and retreated back to the truck.

I managed to snap a cuff around his wrist and drag him out to the curb. Half the home was watching through the lobby windows. The other half were on life support or couldn't see. Tank was unhappy to drop off Lonnie, but in the end, he and Ranger had some words and Tank no longer put up a fight.

I crawled back into the Bronco and placed two file folders on my lap. Serena Jones and Peter 'Snoopy' Tumelen. Peter would be an easy catch. He lived at Mooner's house. I hadn't seen Mooner in months.

"Hey Dude!" He exclaimed when he answered his door.

"Hey Mooner." I said, Ranger just tiped his chin.

Mooner took ahold of my wrist and tugged me inside. Ranger followed, being cautious as ever. Dougie was sitting on the couch with Peter and Toby, Mooner's other roommate. They flagged me over to the couch, where the big screen TV. There was one seat open. Ranger pushed past me, and sat in it. I did what a woman would do. I sat on him.

He had been expecting that. He had his arms positioned for me to sit comfortably in before I was on his lap. "You know that whole Ramos incident?" I whispered so only Ranger would hear.

"Yeah Babe." He whipered back.

"Guess how they bought that?" I pointed at the TV.

Ranger burst out laughing. Didn't take an idiot to piece that together. "Good for them."

They were all engulfed in watching 'I Love the 80's' that I felt it was safe to leave. Peter would be here tomarrow, stoned over like a mountain.

That left Serena. I looked at her picture. I suddenly recognised her.

"Omigod! She works for Cone!" I was in shock.

I had bad run-ins with the Cone brothers. They owned a little casion cog shop here in Trenton. The oldest Andrew, the second, Bart, and the last son, Clyde. Clyde ran a game, as they called it. The game consisted of 6 players, the webmaster, and a prize. Singh got mized up in this 'game' and ended up turning cold and running. He learned you can't do that. They killed Singh in Vegas, and then I learned I was the prize for the game.

Clyde decided I was to good a prize. He kidnaped me, and locked me in the factory. He had guns, I did not. Ranger came to my rescue, and the last I heard, Andrew had moved to Alabama to escape the bad press, and Bart was put in charge of the factory. Clyde had been shot to death, curtosy of me.

"Oh boy." Ranger looked enthused.

Of all the Cone boys, Bart liked me the least.

I sighed as Ranger made the turn off. I could see the building in the distance, growing closer. Ranger pulled up by the enterance. "You want a wire?"

"It souldn't be too terrible." I said, reaching for the door.

"This guys got psyco running through his blood. Be careful." He pulled my hand in his, and then let me go.

I got my second FTA in under an hour. Bart Cone had been a little bitter, but he looked more relieved than he had last time I delt with him. Serena was white faced and grim, just like everyother face in that factory.

"I'm glad I'm going to jail." She said. "Beats that dump."

She was settled in the back seat. She came without a fuss, and almost died when she saw the chaufer. She got out of the truck on cue, and ambled over to the bench, unchained. I got my body reciept and passed her once. "Is he taken?" She asked me.

I turned around and walked backwards towards the door. "Yes." I called back to her.

I spun around and hit a body. I hit it about mid chest. My head knew this chest. I raised my head slowly, the anger bubbling uncontrollably.

"Cupcake."

"Joe." I said, pushing him aside with my shoulder.

"Stop it." He said, grabing my wrist and pulling me to him. "What the hell is going on?"

"Let me go Morelli." I squirmed, but his grasp held firm.

"No." He said, shifting the weight from one leg to the other.

"No? Let me, freaking, go." I strained to get free.

"Absolutely not." Joe jerked his head fercely.

"Let her go Morelli." Ranger stood in front of a crowd of cops who had gathered to watch.

Joe let go of me the instant Ranger's mouth moved. Through the patented cop face, anger brewed. He stood straighter and turned around. He took a few steps closer and stabbed Ranger in the ribs.

"You." He said flatly.

"Yes, officer Morelli." Ranger had a smug grin on his face.

Joe shook his head. "What have you done to her?" He asked under his breath.

"Wanna repeat that?"

"Yeah. What have you done?" He said it with more will in it than last time.

I took a step forward and put my hand on his shoulder. "Let me tell you. He sat up with me. He held me close and let me sleep. He woke up with me in the morning, and he didn't ask for anything in return. How many times can you say that Joe?" I glanced around. Every face was watching with awe.

"God Steph..." Joe started

"Don't you ever dare. I had a chat with Mr.Carver last night. I know everything Joe. And if weren't for all these damn cops," I said, pointing around the room as the crowd got bigger, "I'd wedge my boot up yours."

Ranger smiled and walked around Morelli, taking my hand and leading me away. I took one last look. Joe still stood there, the same expression he had when I left him standing there in his socks and T-shirt with his gun. Ranger planted a kiss on the top of my head and muttered something about not ticking me off.

I gave him a playful shove, and got in the truck.