Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns everyone, except Will Tusen and Peter Atolo (who'll show up in a bit) and I'm not all that excited about owning them, either.

Thanks again to my reviewers. I love reviews :) Please give me more. And you guys still haven't told me what AU means. So hop to it. ;) I shan't post chapter 5 until someone tells me! Maybe...or until I get tired of waiting. (But that's not saying I'll post 5 as soon as I find out what AU means. I don't really want to post three chapters in one day.)

Chapter 4

The next morning, when I woke up, I cracked my eyes open. Nothing appeared to be wrong. I turned my head so it was looking the other way and groaned. Red filled my vision. I lifted myself onto my elbows and looked down at my pillow. A red rose and a note. The note said "Good morning, gorgeous. You won't find me until I want to be found." Once again, the note was on the back of a picture. This picture was obviously taken last night. It was after I'd thrown out the rose and note, while I was looking for the camera. My eyes were narrowed suspiciously. I had a towel wrapped around myself, with the free corner tucked between my breasts. In the picture, I was staring straight into the camera.

Although disturbed by the thought of a camera in my bathroom, I was glad that I'd gotten this picture. I picked it up and went into the bathroom, looking at the picture carefully. I could see my mirror in the very edge of the picture. I went and stood in the middle of the room where I'd stood the night before and tried to figure out where the camera would be to give the required angle to make this picture. I figured out that it would have to be right over the middle of my door. I walked over and stood on tiptoes, running my hand along the top of the door, where some people kept spare keys. I felt something very small, and I grabbed it and pulled. It stuck for a second and then ripped away from the wall. I looked at it. It was a very tiny camera, currently with a tiny piece of my wall attached to it. I went to my window and threw it out, careful to throw it so that it went over the fire escape and hit the ground below instead of getting caught by the fire escape. I put the photo with all the other ones, in one of my kitchen drawers.

I sat down at my kitchen table to think. On the one hand, I had proof now that someone was watching me inside my apartment and taking almost naked pictures of me. Also, the note today, about not being able to find whoever it was, was sort of scary. But, on the other hand, getting into my apartment without my permission was no big deal. Half of Trenton did it (obvious exaggeration, but whatever). And, the whole 'not being found until they want to be' comment thing was sorta freaky, but not a threat. I mean, that could be said about a lot of people, but that doesn't mean the person is going to hurt me. Ranger, for example, could say thatI wouldn't find him until he wanted to be found and my only reaction would be 'well, duh' or possibly a pathetic attempt to find him just to prove him wrong. But I wouldn't be scared.

Of course, thinking about Ranger made me mad and sad, so I decided not to think of him anymore, and turned my mind back to my stalker.

I had several options. I could ignore the stalker and hope I didn't end up dead. I could load my gun and carry it with me but otherwise ignore the stalker. Of course, both those options were pretty much the same, since carrying my gun was an empty gesture. The third option was to call Tank and let him handle everything. But, for one thing, I didn't want to get Ranger involved in any way, even indirectly, if it was nothing. Or, really, even if it wasn't. At the moment, I was annoyed with Ranger for always being so taciturn and never telling me anything, so I didn't want him involved in my life. I'm sure this would change as soon as he came back, because anytime he's close, I have a very strong urge to have him in my life, or at least in my bed.

I decided to go with option two for now, so I loaded my gun, had breakfast, gave Rex his, and then left. As I was getting into my car, my cell phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. Trenton Police Station.

Curious, but sort of able to guess what it was about, I answered. I was informed by a voice that I didn't recognize that I had to come in to give my statement about 'the incident in the parking lot yesterday afternoon.' I told them I'd be right in, then turned on the car and drove to the police station.

The person getting my statement was a cop I didn't know. Apparently, however, he had heard a lot about me, because when I explained that it had actually been a car bomb in my car and that I'd just thrown it randomly away so I wouldn't blow up, and that it was not, in fact, a malicious attempt to get back at my scumbag ex-boyfriend, he just raised his eyebrows and nodded, and wrote it all down as if he believed it. I'm pretty sure he did, which is sort of pathetic in a way. Definitely says something about the kind of things that happen around me. And the frequency of said things.

At any rate, no one stopped me and tried to arrest me for destruction of private property as I got up and left. I reached my car and, as I had half expected, saw a red rose as I looked in. I opened the door and picked up the picture, throwing the rose out behind me to the ground.

The picture was of me yesterday, looking at Morelli's truck. My eyes were super bright from tears (the ones I knew were produced by my laughter) and the flames from the explosion were reflecting clearly in them. I had a huge smile on my face. The note said 'I'm glad you're enjoying the game, gorgeous. I am too.'

I was pretty sure my stalker meant sending me semi-threatening notes accompanied by roses and, once, a bomb. Personally, I wasn't enjoying 'the game'. I was pretty sure calling Tank would be a good idea, but that going home and eating cake and thinking it over would be an even better idea. Unfortunately, I didn't actually have cake. I picked up some TastyKakes on the way home.

The sight that greeted me as I opened the door to my apartment, though, destroyed my appetite, or at least pushed it out of mind for the moment. Vases of roses, not just red, but also white, pink, peach, yellow, and a bunch of others, were placed all over my living room and front hall. Rose petals were liberally scattered on the floor. And on one of the walls, written in blood (my stalker had a flare for the dramatic, apparently), whose, I had no clue and didn't want to know, were large letters spelling out: "Welcome Home, Gorgeous."

Definitely time to call Tank.

A/N: btw, when I wrote the whole 'Ranger being taciturn' thing, I'm sorry if I used taciturn incorrectly. It was a vocab word a few days ago and I wanted to use it ;) Sorry if I used it incorrectly.