Seven Up
Part 2 – Memories
One
The ringing of my phone woke me up. I looked at the clock. 7:48 in the morning. Unh. Who in the world could be calling me that early?
"Wa?" It was too early to talk in complete sentences. Hell, it was too early to use a full word, much less a phrase.
"I've got a skip for you. You should come to the office." Vinnie. It was way too early to deal with pervert slime.
"Later, Vinnie."
"Steph, come on…"
"No. I'm taking the week off so that my arm gets better. Deal with it."
I was about to hang up when he caught my attention. "It's a $250,000.00 bond." So that meant I'd get how much? Ten percent of…God, it was too early for math, too.
"That's $25,000.00 for you, Stephanie," he said. "Isn't your rent due soon?"
How'd he know that, I wondered as I looked at the phone. I knew that my life was an open book, but when people know when my bills are due, it's a little creepy. Then again, everything about Vinnie is creepy. But back to the subject at hand, I told Vinnie I'd be in later. After I caught a few more winks.
"I think now would be a good time, Steph. Unless, of course, you want me to give it to Joyce," he threatened.
That little shit. I needed that money. And just think of all the things I could do with it. I had visions of Macy's floating in my head, filled with shoe rack upon shoe rack. That I would get that much money should have set off red flags, but I blame it on the lack of sleep that I didn't feel any signs of foreboding.
"Fine," I said. "I'll be there in half an hour." Then I hung up before he could argue with me anymore.
Falling out of bed, I stumbled towards my closet. March in Trenton is still pretty chilly, so I chose some jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. Then I added a flannel and a pair of Docs and I was set. I just ran a brush through my hair, reacquainted my toothbrush with my teeth, grabbed my purse and jacket and was out the door.
When I got there, Vinnie ushered me into his office. My only thought was ick. I was very careful not to touch anything. Just what I wanted to do at eight in the morning on what was supposed to be my vacation. He handed me the file and the guy didn't look so bad. Jason Blackwell – Caucasian male, 5'11" at 190 lbs., short blonde hair and blue eyes, . It was pretty standard, he was arrested for carrying concealed, but the bond was set at $250,000.00. The amount made me blink. That couldn't be right. Everybody in Trenton has been arrested at some point or another for carrying concealed, and they never set the bond so high for such a simple offense.
"Vinnie? Why the hell did the judge set the bail so high?"
"Just keep reading," he said.
All that was left was the list of priors. It was like that pink bunny with the drum. They just kept going, and going, and going. Among other notations on his record were a couple indictments for rape and murder. And Vinnie wanted me to do this. Right.
"Nope. No way. Not gonna do it. Why don't you give it to Ranger?"
He just gave me a funny look.
After a minute, he answered me. "Because I'm giving it to you. You're not such a bad bounty hunter anymore. I'm sure you can do it."
"No," I said. "It doesn't matter that you apparently think I'm 'not so bad anymore.' Did you look at his file? No way. I'm not going to do it."
"Yes, you are. It's not that bad."
"Not that bad!" I exclaimed incredulously. "He was being tried for murder and rape when he skipped."
"It's not like he was ever convicted for anything." Ladies and Gentlemen, The Logic of Vincent Plum.
"Besides," he continued. "If you don't do this, then I won't give you any more skips. Ever."
Well damn. That little prick.
"Fine. Just fine. I'll go get raped and murdered. Should be fun, right?" I grabbed the folder and stormed out the door.
Connie and Lula weren't in yet, so at least I didn't have to tell them. Although maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Maybe they could yell at Vinnie to not give me this damn file. Maybe it would even work.
I got into my monstrosity of a car and whipped out the cell phone. Hopefully, Ranger could help me with it. He didn't answer any of his phones. I left my number on his pager and a message telling him that I got a stinker of a skip and was wondering if he would be willing to help me with it. Then I went back home. I was exhausted. I hadn't had much sleep for more than a week now, what with late night visits and surveillance, and I'd been waking up early every morning. I had hoped to catch up on my sleep during my injury induced vacation, but it didn't look like I was going to be able to take time off after all.
When I got back to my place, I took a look around. It was a mess. I'd been so busy lately I hadn't had time for even nominal cleaning, and it showed. I spent the next few hours working on getting my apartment back in order. By the time I was done it was after eleven and Ranger still hadn't returned any of my calls. That was odd. He was usually really good about returning my calls. Even when he'd gone FTA he'd called me back.
My stomach chose that time to voice it's opinion. It had nothing to do with Ranger.
I took a quick shower and got ready to face the day. Then I loaded up my purse; stun gun, nail file, hair pick, hair spray – all the necessities. My gun stayed in the cookie jar. Being shot didn't help in the least to endear me to firearms. I put on my shoes, grabbed my coat and headed out.
Parking in front of the office, I went next door to Fiorelli's Deli. After I got my sandwich, I headed over to talk to Lula. Ranger would have been my first choice, but he wasn't answering any of my calls.
"Hey, guys. How's it going?"
" 'Hey guys. How's it going?' You don't really think that'll cut it. Do you?" Lula asked.
I'd hoped I'd be able to avoid this. I hadn't spoken to them since before Morelli's "proposal," and they looked like they wanted an explanation. What fun.
"Okay, fine. Ask away."
And they did.
"What's going on with you and Morelli?" Connie asked.
At the same exact time, Lula asked, "What's going on with you and Ranger?"
"Uh, well," I stumbled. "Nothing. To both questions."
"Uh-huh, girl. You better elaborate on that," Lula ordered. She was working her way into rhino mode. Guess I should answer the questions. Rhino-Lula was a scary superhero. Or maybe super-villain. What was the question again, I wondered.
"Morelli proposed. Then he took it back. Not that I would have accepted anyway. I finally got fed up with his shit, and dumped him. I haven't seen him since that night. And I haven't seen Ranger since he wrapped up Homer Ramos for the police."
They both got funny looks on their faces.
"He got whisked away for questioning, and I had to go to the hospital," I explained.
The looks didn't go away. What the hell was wrong with people? Maybe they all had an eye disease. And it was infectious. Pretty soon I'd be giving myself that look.
"Lula, I was wondering if you would help me with this skip?"
"I thought you were taking a week off for your arm," Connie said.
"I was, but Vinnie informed me that I'd be taking this skip or I wouldn't be taking any other skips ever again. Why he didn't give it to Ranger is beyond me." Those damn looks came back.
"So do you want to ride shotgun or not?" I asked Lula.
"Yeah, sure. But we're taking my car."
I finished my sandwich and Lula and I went out to find Blackwell. We were women on a mission.
I got out the file again and reread it. The home address and the work address were the same. I guessed he was self-employed. Last time one of my skips was self-employed, he was a midget. I rechecked the height. Just to be sure. Still 5'11".
We headed out to the apartment building with Lula playing her music loud enough to burst my ear drums. She was getting into her kick-ass mode and I didn't correct her. Hell, it would've be fine by me if she gave him the electric treatment. Then he wouldn't be able to rape or murder me. Always a plus.
I on the other hand was not getting into any zone. I was just praying that he'd left the country.
When we got to the building, I rechecked the address. It wouldn't do to go barging in on some old geezer with a heart condition. The building was five stories and in very good condition. Lucky for us, it wasn't such a high class apartment building that there was a doorman that would stop us from going up. Not that Lula and her stun gun couldn't take care of that for us, but I was hoping that we could save all the volts for this piece of scum.
The skip lived in 4E. I looked from the elevator, to the stairs, to Lula.
"Un-hunh. I know what you thinkin', but there's a perfectly good elevator right here. No way am I goin' up three flights of steps when there's an elevator that I can take."
That was fine by me. I really hadn't been looking forward to the climb. What was it with these people and heights anyway? Why couldn't any of my skips ever live on the first floor? I'm sure the apartments on the bottom are every bit as good as the ones on the top.
The elevator made it's way up to the fourth floor in a few seconds. It was much faster and less tiring than the steps. The wonder that is the elevator.
In this particular apartment building, the elevators were on one side of the building with a hall stretching out before it. With six apartments to a floor, there were three to the right, and three to the left when you stepped out of the elevator.
Blackwell lived in 4E, the last apartment on the right. We knocked on the door and stood to the side. It wouldn't do for the skip to see us and decide that he wanted to shoot us. There was no answer. We waited for another minute or two before knocking again and calling his name. Still, no answer. Hallelujah, maybe my prayers had been answered. Maybe Blackwell was somewhere in South America, drinking a Piña Colada and laughing at the American justice system.
Or maybe he was dead, or badly injured; maybe he was laying completely helpless there in his apartment. Maybe that was why he'd missed his court date. After all, his file had said that he'd always shown up before. It was one of the reasons Vinnie had agreed to bail him out in the first place.
What are you doing, I asked myself. I knew what I was doing. I was trying to work up the nerve to ask Lula to break-in. I really needed to learn how to pick a lock. It was getting to be embarrassing. And maybe then I could find some locks that would actually keep people out of my apartment. I asked and she told me that of course she could break-in. Of course she could. What's a little B&E, after all. Unless, she said, there was a security chain. Ranger could get past security chains, but then Lula wasn't Ranger. I decided to hope that there wasn't a chain, and wonder of wonders, luck was with us.
We got inside with no trouble. No security chain, no yappy dogs, no nosy neighbors. Nothing. And that's what we found when we walked in, too. The place was empty. The only furniture was the counter in the kitchen, and that was built-in. I checked the medicine cabinet and refrigerator, just to be sure. They followed suit. Completely empty. Well, now what?
Lula echoed my thoughts. "Well, now what?"
I had no clue. This place was completely deserted. Or maybe he'd just taken all of his stuff when he'd gone to Brazil.
"Probably we should ask the neighbors. See if they know anything," I told her.
Probably it would be a complete waste of time. After all, no one had noticed the two of us as we broke in so why would they notice anyone else? But then again, they'd probably know if the apartment had been in use. Or if someone had recently moved. As the old saying goes, only one way to find out.
Lula and I made our way down the hall, but apparently, nobody was home. I thought it was rather strange and just a little creepy.
"Damn, but this place is creepy."
Guess it wasn't just me.
We went door to door on the floor below us, and got the same overwhelming response we'd received on the fourth floor. So nobody was home in twelve different apartments in the same building. Coincidence? I thought not. It was more like no one was living in the entire building.
"Don't think there's anyone living here, Steph."
Lula was getting annoying, what with her vocalizing my every thought. But it might come in handy sometime. Like on one of those days when I had no idea what was going on, much less what was running through my head.
Neither of us really knew what to do at that point so we headed out to the car and back to the office with the music blaring from the speakers.
"Girl, what would the world do with out Dolby," Lula asked contentedly. I came up with hearing, but didn't think Lula would agree.
I decided that it would be safer for everyone if I waited until my ears stopped ringing to drive home, so I went into the office with Lula. Connie and Lula got to talking about something or other. It never ceased to amaze me that these two could see each other every day and not run out of things to talk about. Of course, with me around, there was always something new to talk about. Eventually, my thoughts started to drift to Ranger and the fact that he hadn't called me back yet. I was well on my way to having a tizzy when Connie and Lula's shouting brought me out of it.
"I'm telling you, there is no other way to eat grilled cheese. You put slices of tomato in between the slices of cheese before you grill it!" That was Connie.
"I don't know about you Italians. I thought you was supposed to be good with food. Everybody knows that you put pickle and onion on the inside!" That was Lula.
The both turned to me to settle the dispute.
"I don't put anything on the inside," I told them. "I just dip it in ketchup."
They both looked disgusted. "Can I use the phone?" I asked.
Connie nodded her assent and I quickly dialed Ranger and left a brief message. "Are you ok? Call me."
When I put the phone down, the girls had forgotten that they were in the middle of WWIII and were giving me that funny look again.
"What?"
They quickly glanced at each other. Why was it that everybody could do the ESP thing except me?
"Who'd you call, Steph?" Connie asked.
"Ranger."
They did the funny look thing. Again.
"You know he left, right?" Connie was being very nice about the whole thing. And somehow, that made it worse.
"He left?" I asked, confused. "Where'd he go? When's he gonna be back?"
"Steph," Lula said. "He came in here a few days ago. Said he was leaving town."
He was gone; Ranger was gone. He'd left. Without a word.
"Oh," was all I managed to get out. When the ability to speak finally came back, I told them that I was going home.
I walked out the door and walked right back in to ask if there were any new skips for me.
Connie gave me an apologetic look.
"Vinnie told me that I had to give you all of Ranger's skips until he got someone to replace him."
"What?" I exclaimed. My emotions were in severe flux. First there was the shock over Ranger leaving, and then panic at the thought of taking Ranger's skips. Ranger got the crazies – the hardened criminals. I took the ones that were more like marshmallows.
"Vinnie!" I yelled. "Get you're sorry ass out here."
He poked his head out the door.
"Whaddya want?"
"Why the hell are you giving me Ranger's skips?" I asked exasperated. I couldn't do this. I couldn't take these guys. Vinnie gave me that look. The eye disease look. I was really learning to hate that particular look.
"Well, you know he's gone, right?" Surprisingly, Vinnie had the same tone that Connie did when she told me.
"Of course I do." After Connie told me five minutes ago. He looked slightly relieved. God, I was pathetic.
"Who else do you want me to give them to. Joyce?" he asked incredulously. "Like she'd be able to pull any of these guys in." He snorted and pulled his head back inside his office, shutting and locking the door.
Ok, I thought. I was all Vinnie had left to catch the real skips. I could do this. And there would a lot of money in it if I was going to start doing Ranger's skips. When the crazies get bail, it's not an insignificant bond. Connie handed over five files. I couldn't do this.
"Four of them are easy," she said. "A flasher, a drunk and disorderly, and a pair of brothers who try to make a living by selling cars."
"Selling cars?" I asked. Last I checked, that was still legal. Unless, of course, Congress had finally decided to tackle the problem of used car dealers.
"Stealing, then selling," she clarified. Ah.
"And the last one?"
"A dealer," she said. I was hoping that she was talking about Dougie, but I was pretty sure that she meant the kind that hangs out on Stark Street.
"Wonderful." I grabbed the files and drifted out of the office in a daze.
I got in the car and just started driving on auto pilot. Too much had happened for me to do anything other than ignore it. Maybe later I'd be able to sort through everything and deal with it without losing my mind. Maybe much later. Maybe I'd just continue to ignore it. I didn't know where I was going; I had no destination in mind. I was just driving. Watching the road go by was therapeutic in a way, a mindless sort of activity that had an actual result of putting distance between myself and…well, my home. Eventually, though, I had to turn around and make my way back. By then it was late, almost midnight.
When I got to my apartment, I was still so preoccupied that I didn't realize that my door was open until I was standing right in front of it. Well Girl Genius, I asked myself, what now? I did a quick run through of everything in my purse for something that would help me. My gun was still safely in the cookie jar, so I grabbed my pepper spray and headed in. Not the world's best plan, but it was all I could come up with on such short notice.
The first thing I saw was that someone was asleep on my couch with a blanket completely enveloping him…her…it. I made my way over and carefully pulled the cover off. Shoulder length brown hair was splayed everywhere, covering the intruders face. I brushed it away and discovered that my burglar was Mooner.
"Mooner, get up. Mooner," I called.
"Dude," was the groggy response.
"Do you need something, Mooner?" I asked him.
"Huh?" Wonderful.
"You're at my apartment," I told him. "Is there something you need?"
"Dude. Oh. Gimme just a minute here." The Moon Man looked like he was in pain.
"Are you ok?" I asked.
"Yeah, just trying to remember why I'm on your couch," he said. Ah. He was thinking. That would explain it.
"Oh, yeah. Dougie and I flipped a coin!" Mooner exclaimed, proud to have finally found the answer. Unfortunately, it didn't tell me much.
"Dougie's here?" I asked. Great. And where would he be, I asked myself. If he was in my bed, I swore I'd go for my gun.
"Yeah, I'm right here," Dougie answered me. From behind the couch. So I wouldn't have to shoot him after all.
"So what are you two doing here?" I asked them.
"Well," Dougie started. "Here's the deal. See, Mooner's old room mate split, right? So we got to thinking, maybe I would be his new roomy." Thank God. For a minute there, I thought that maybe they wanted a place to stay.
"So, I sold my house, and was moving all my stuff over, right?" he continued. "So when I finished, we decided to make some popcorn." Sounded reasonable to me. Gotta have popcorn when you finish moving. It's like a cosmic law or something. Ice cream is also acceptable.
"And, like, we must have put one to many zero's in when we set the timer, because it, like, started to burn up," Mooner told me as he took up the story. "It was fucking glorious, man. The whole microwave went up. I was, like, roasting marshmallows when the Dougster here put it out."
Oh, no. I had a bad feeling about where this was going.
"Should have had ice cream," I told them. If they'd had ice cream, they wouldn't have had this problem.
"Yeah," Mooner agreed with a look of consideration playing across his features.
"But anyway, now the whole place smells really bad, so we opened all the windows, but it didn't help," Dougie went on with the story. "So then we got out all these fans that I still have from when I was dealing, and plugged them in all over the house and put them on high, and it still didn't help."
"Yeah, but it was fucking awesome," Mooner defended the idea. "It was, like, a fucking tornado had invaded the house, man."
"But we were wondering if we could stay here for a day or two? Just until the smell goes away," Dougie finished. Shit. They looked at me with those eyes glazed over from all the pot, and looked so pitiful. What else could I have done? I had to say yes. I gave them each a pillow and a blanket and told them that I was going to take a nap. Then I gave them a very specific list of things not to do, such as smoking – anything, lighting the stove, using the microwave, using the oven, or doing anything that involved fire in any form what so ever. They looked a little bummed, but I figured that they would get through it.
Five minutes later, just as I was about to fall asleep, my charges started yelling. Unh. All I wanted was eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Was that really too much to ask for? Apparently, it was. Dougie and Mooner just kept getting louder, and louder, and louder. Of all things, they were fighting over the remote. Dougie wanted to watch the nature channel, while Mooner wanted to watch the eight hour marathon of Bewitched. I was kinda proud of Mooner. I didn't know he had it in him to be anything other than passive. Not, so it seemed, when it came to his marathons.
I went out and yelled at them about the importance of quiet when one is trying to take a nap, making it very clear that I would not be happy if they woke me up again. Then I stomped back into my room and tried to fall asleep.
"Get off me!" Voice 1.
"Shh!" Voice 2.
"What are you two doing?" Voice 1.
"Hush, man!" Voice 3.
"Be quiet!" Voice 2.
"Please, man, come on!" Voice 3.
That was what woke me up exactly 23 minutes after I had fallen asleep. I knew this because I fell asleep watching the clock, and woke up facing it. God dammit. Those two just didn't understand the importance of a good nap.
Something clicked. Two. There were only supposed to be two of them in my living room. Why, then, I asked myself, were there three voices?
I crept to my door and peeked out. Sure enough, there was someone else in my apartment. And from the looks of it, he'd broken in. I sighed. What was it that made people break in? Was it me? Nah. Had to be the apartment. Something about it just invited everyone who passed to break in. Wait, inviting to break in…never mind.
The sight in my living room was actually rather humorous. Here were Mooner and Dougie, trying to tackle this big bald black guy. And the guy wasn't big because he'd had one too many ice cream cones, either. But what made it so funny was that Mooner and Dougie were trying to shush him at the same time.
"Man, she's gonna be pissed if you wake her up." Dougie.
"Get off me!" Big Guy.
"Dude, just get out and come back when she wakes up. We could call you, or something." Mooner.
All the while I had been walking towards my kitchen. There was a pint of Ben and Jerry's sitting in my freezer, just calling to me to eat it. Cookie dough and brownie batter with chocolate ice cream. Ben and Jerry are geniuses.
I passed my cookie jar as I entered the kitchen, and I decided it might be a good idea if I got my gun out of it. I gingerly put bullets into the little holes that are meant for them. After all, if I hurried, I might wind up shooting off my little toe, and I'd grown rather fond of that particular appendage over the past 30 years.
Grabbing a spoon and the carton of ice-cream, I sat on the counter to wait until the guys were done. Five minutes later I made a bet with myself that Mooner and Dougie would pin the guy. After all, it was two on one, and they had been watching a lot of wrestling lately. Ten minutes later the ice-cream was gone and I went to sit on the couch. Five minutes after that, both the Moon man and Dougie were out cold. Damn. I'd lost the bet. Well, technically, I'd won it too, I thought to myself before I remembered that the big guy was still here. I thought I might want to do something about that.
"Put your hands behind your head and turn around slowly."
He did as he was told. Wow, I thought. That had to be a first. Someone did what I asked of them. I thought that maybe I should get a book and write it down. Kinda like Baby's First Book, but for bounty hunters. Or maybe there was a checklist in that handbook that Ranger had kept talking about. Except that I'd never gotten one. And Ranger was gone.
"Miss Plum," Big Guy started.
Probably it was a good idea to get back to reality.
"Shut up," I told him. I was even more blunt than I usual. "I'm tired. It's been so long since I've had a night of uninterrupted sleep that I can't even remember when it was."
"Miss Plum," he tried.
"Shut up! I wasn't finished," I told him. God was I tired, and I'm a real bitch when I don't get my sleep. "Between my grandmother's snoring, Ranger's 'surveillance,' Dougie, Mooner, and Morelli, I've gotten pretty fucking tired. And now, I get to deal with you."
"Miss Plum," he tried again.
"Shut up," I said again. "I suggest that you let me rant and rave as much as I fucking want to." The only problem with that was that I'd run out of things to yell about. I sighed.
"Why the hell did you break into my apartment?" I asked.
He looked at me funny. "How did you know that I broke in?" he asked.
"Other than the fact that Mooner and Dougie were wrestling you to try to get you out?"
"Well," he supposed. I cut him off. I didn't feel like listening.
"That's the only way people come in. They pick the lock. I'm actually thinking about having this door removed and putting in one of those swinging ones. You know, to make it easier on everyone. Especially since I'm the only person in this whole God damn city that can't pick my locks, so when I lose my keys, I can't get in." I was ranting again. My arms were starting to hurt. It really takes a lot to hold a gun on someone. Guess I needed to work on my upper body strength. Maybe I'd do that someday when I was really bored and have absolutely nothing to do. Maybe I'd do that when I took up jogging again. Maybe I'd learn how to cook. Maybe…
"I need to talk to you," he interrupted. Well zippidy-do-dah-day.
"So you're not here to do anything bad?" I asked, and he shook his head. "You weren't sent by anybody named Ramos, were you?" Another negative.
"Or that other guy? What's his name, Stan? Stella?" I asked.
"Stolle?" he supplied. I nodded. "Nope."
"You're not gonna cut off any fingers or nipples or kidnap me or burn my apartment down or my shirt up or bomb my car or try to kill me?" I asked him.
He looked a little confused, but shook his head no to all of them.
"Good." I stood up and put my gun down.
"Can I put my hands down now?" the big guy asked.
"You can do whatever the hell you want. I'm going back to sleep. If you're still here when I wake up, we can talk then."
"What about these clowns?"
"They're house guests."
"What am I supposed to do with them when they wake up?"
"I don't think I could care less. Just don't hurt them. Too much. Unless they start making a lot of noise. Make sure that none of you wake me up. Or anyone else who comes in while you're here. And make sure that there's no blood on the carpet. Now is there anything else you don't understand that you need me to clarify for you?"
"You're just going to leave me here? Sitting on your couch?" That pretty much summed it up.
"Would you rather go sit in your car?" I asked. When he shook his head again, I told him that yeah, that was exactly what I was doing.
I slammed my bedroom door and fell into bed. Staring at my clock. Again.
The digital read out told me that it was 2:47. In the morning. I was not a happy camper. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to sleep so badly, but my mind was racing so quickly with everything I couldn't even stay asleep for very long anymore. I'd finally drift off, and five minutes later I would jolt awake with another thought. There was no point to staying in bed; I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep anymore for a few hours at least.
I got up and stretched and was startled by the presence of a gun on my night table. No, not a gun, my gun, I realized. Well, the big guy had done a good job of keeping everyone quiet, so I guess I wouldn't have to shoot him. I just hoped that he hadn't stained the carpet to badly in the process.
Tank, I thought as I finally put the name to the guy sitting in my living room. That guy who'd worked for Ranger. The one who'd thrown that crack-head out of the third-story window and was then surprised to find that there had been a fire escape that kept the man from going splat. Well fuck me, I thought. It was the man that had gotten shot and blown up because of me. Needless to say, he'd been ok, but still.
After a brief debate with myself, I decided that the gun would be a good thing to bring with me. Not that I could imagine myself shooting him anywhere important. Maybe in his foot. Maybe the shoulder or upper leg if I imagined he was Ranger. Maybe somewhere a lot more vital if I imagined he was Morelli.
I walked into the living room where Tank was asleep on the couch and stood where I could see both him and the door. That way, I wouldn't have to move when he left, and I could keep the gun on him the whole time. Because, really, he was only about eighty-nine billion times better than me at this whole thing, I was sure.
Another quick internal dispute and I settled on throwing a shoe at him to wake him up. And wake up he did. Sitting up and immediately going for his gun. I rethought my position on my gun and tucked it into the small of my back before he saw me with it. Who knew what he would do if her were still foggy from sleep and just saw the gun pointed at him?
He caught sight of me and put his gun away, rubbing his face.
"Shit, you scared the hell out of me."
"I could say the same of you." He looked confused, so I elaborated. "The whole instantly awake with a gun in my hand looking for the unidentified threat? Why do you think that I didn't wake you up by slapping you?"
"Why would you slap me?" he asked with that confused look again. Tough shit for him.
"Tank, get the hell out of my apartment," I told him.
"How do you know who I am," he asked.
"I remembered you. Now get out."
"Miss Plum," he started.
"Tank, I don't want to hear it. Whatever it is that Ranger sent you over here for, you can just tell him to shove it up his ass."
"What, do I look stupid?" he asked.
I thought about it for a minute before deciding that a smart ass remark here would not go over well.
"Look, lady," he said.
"I am by no means a 'lady.' If you really need to call me something other than Miss Plum, you can use Stephanie or Ma'am. But I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, a lady. Now," I repeated. "Get out."
"I'm just trying to do my job, all right? He asked me to come over here and…"
"And why would he do that?" I asked him.
"Because…because," he tried, unable to find the words. Probably because he didn't know them.
"Because he what, Tank?" I asked. "Because he cares so much, I'm sure." My voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"He does." Tank was starting to sound rather defensive of Ranger. I really didn't care anymore.
"Of course, Tank. And that's why he sent you. Makes all the sense in the world. Especially after I got kidnapped and shot helping him and he didn't even have the decency to send me a fucking thank you note. But of course, that's too much to ask from Ranger. He's dark, and handsome, and mysterious, and has women falling all over him and men pissing themselves just because he walks into the room. So no, of course he shouldn't tell me that he's leaving. Why would he? After all, I'm only Eliza. Why would Batman ever even associate with people like me. The dregs of society. I should probably be praising God that he even gave me a passing glance, no less agreed to play Henry Higgins."
"He told me to come and offer you my services if you ever need any help or anything." He was interrupting again, but seeing as how I didn't have a gun pointed at him and he was bigger than me, I figured he could do that now.
"Because of course it wouldn't do if something happened to little Eliza while he was away. She has to be in condition for him to play with when and if he comes back."
"Miss Plum," he said.
"Stephanie."
"Stephanie, I think you're being a little hard on the guy, don't you…"
"Is that all you were told to do?" I asked.
"Well, yeah," Tank said.
"Wonderful. Mission accomplished. Now you can go back to home base and report your success. Should be a blast."
He walked over to me and handed me a card.
"This is how you can get a hold of me if you need something."
He sighed.
"What now?"
"Ranger wanted me to report back to him directly. What am I gonna tell him you said?" he asked me.
I smiled sweetly. "You mean I didn't give you enough to tell the little general? I could always give you more…"
"No," he said quickly. "That's ok. Really."
I walked him to the door.
"Please call me if you need anything," he said.
I opened the door and told him to have a good night and shut the door as soon as it wouldn't hit him. Then I realized that Mooner and Dougie were gone and opened it right back up.
"What did you do to the two guys who were here earlier?"
He looked a little wounded at that. Wonderful. "What do you mean what did I do to them? What makes you think I would do anything to them?"
"I saw you throw a guy out of a window thinking that he would splat onto the concrete thirty feet below," I said. "That's what makes me think you would do something."
"Oh" he acknowledged with a shrug. "Well, they got hungry about an hour ago and decided to go get something to eat."
I shut the door again and sat down against it. What I really wanted to do was have a good cry, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. After all, if I meant that little to Ranger, then why should I cry over him. I shouldn't care. I didn't care. I took deep, slow breaths and silently repeated that mantra.
Half an hour later, I was still sitting against the door, still trying to convince myself that Ranger wasn't worth any tears, when I heard the lock being picked again.
I jumped up and jerked the door open, yelling, "Who the hell are you and what the fuck do you want?"
"Dude," was Mooner's contribution.
"We figured that you might be asleep or something, and we didn't want you to yell at us again," Dougie said. Great. Now I was feeling guilty.
"Sorry guys. Come on, you can go ahead and go back to sleep, if you want. I'll make sure I'm quiet."
"Dude, I'm like, wired. And I think there' a Get Smart marathon on."
And that was that. The three of us sat on the couch with some pillows and blankets and watched Maxwell Smart and Control battle the evil forces of Kaos until nine 'o' clock in the morning.
I decided that I had spent enough time vegging out and that it was time to get back to work. I fixed myself a peanut butter and olive sandwich, breaking the corners off for Rex, and sat down at my kitchen counter to read the files.
The flasher was one I'd had before. William Earling lived on the third floor of my building. Well that would be an easy one. He was always willing to go, it was just getting him dressed that was the problem. I could grab him on my way out, so he would be first.
I chose the drunk and disorderly for next and proceeded to read it. Holy Shit! This couldn't be right. I called Connie to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.
"Vincent Plum Bail Bonding," she answered.
"Connie? Is this right? Do I really get to bring in Joyce?"
"I was wondering when you'd find that."
"So I do?" I asked gleefully. "I get to bring her in? What's the story?"
"Well, the way I heard it, she was out in one of those tacky bars getting drunk off her ass, when this guy tried to pick her up. So she made up her mind to go with him."
"So?" I knew there had to be more to the story. Joyce is the town slut. She probably sleeps with a different man every night.
"So her date wasn't too happy with it."
"Oh." God, how unfair is that. Joyce has a date with one man and another tries to pick her up, and the only men in my life are either not speaking to me or out of town. And neither one wants a relationship with me.
"And?" I prompted.
"And," Connie went on. "She wound up slugging them both when they started to pull her arms." Connie was laughing hysterically by now, but I was too depressed. Although I will admit to cracking a slight grin.
"Then, when the cop comes in, she's sitting at the bar downing another drink. So when he goes up to her and asks her what happened, she asks if he would like to go home with her. He decided that she was trying to bribe him, and arrested her on the spot."
"Why didn't Vinnie remind her to go to court?" That was what I really couldn't understand. I mean, they had what I guess you could call sex at least three times a week. You would think that Vinnie would make sure she went to court because as much as he likes sex, he likes money more.
"He did. Repeatedly. I heard him."
"So then she didn't just forget," I decided.
"Nope. Vinnie was so mad that he had veins popping. He told me that I wasn't supposed to let her have any more skips. Ever."
That got me smiling. No more having to deal with Joyce at the office.
"Thank God."
"Tell me about it," she said. "I was getting sick of having to listen to all those animal noises they were making. You know what he had her sounding like last time?" I was pretty sure that I didn't want to know. "She was making all these weird bleating noises; like she was a sheep, or a goat, or something like that. It was disgusting." Yeah, that confirmed it. I really didn't want to know.
"Connie," I whined. "That was so gross. Really, you didn't need to tell me that. Now I've gotta go; I think I'm gonna be sick. I'm gonna have nightmares."
"Ok," she said completely unperturbed. "See ya later."
I hung up and grabbed the two files for the dynamic duo of car thieves. Barry and Larry White. Both were huge. Huge as in two Lula's rolled into one. Well, it would probably be four, since it two thieves… never mind. In fact, I thought I should probably grab her before I went after them. If nothing else, she would probably be able to help me carry them to the car. So long as they were only passed out, at least. If they were dead I would probably be on my own.
And then there was the drug dealer. When I read the file I just about passed out. Then I remembered the file Vinnie gave me that morning. Knowing that this dealer wasn't nearly as bad as Blackwell, I thought I could do it. And then I thought about having to pick up Blackwell, and I was back to panic mode.
Damn Ranger and his leaving all of this for me to deal with.
"God dammit," I grumbled.
Mooner and Dougie were looking at me. I mumbled an apology to them, assuring the boys that I really wasn't yelling at them. I felt bad. Ever since they'd gotten her, I'd been nothing but cranky. I went back to my brooding so that I wouldn't yell at them anymore. Ranger should have warned me he was leaving, even if for no other reason than to warn me that I'd be getting his files, he should have called. Or at least left a message. Hell, he should have told me because we were friends. Or we were. Or I had thought we were. I suppose we weren't, though, if this was how he was dealing with things. I'd have to remember to return the favor if I ever saw him again. On that note, I got ready to go after my skips.
I told the boys to be good, repeating the rules about fires and food, and went up to Earling's apartment on the third floor. Eyes firmly on the side of the doorframe, I knocked. Last time I brought him in, he answered the door naked. Sure enough, when he answered the door, my peripheral vision told me that he was buck naked. Wonderful. This sure as hell brightened up my day.
"Hello Mr. Earling, I'm…"
"I know who you are. You're Stephanie Plum. You live downstairs."
"That's right," I said. "I was wondering if you would be able to come with me to the courthouse so that we could reschedule your court date."
"Hunh. Did I miss that again?" he asked. "I was hoping you were here because you got tired of those two guys who keep coming to your apartment at all hours of the day and night and decided that you wanted a real man. Just look at this impressive piece of plumbing." No, I would not look, I would not look, I told myself. I kept my eyes firmly planted on the door frame. The last time I'd brought him in I hadn't been strong enough to keep my eyes averted. I'd been scarred ever since. It was an event so traumatic I wasn't sure if I could cope with a repeat performance.
"Oh well," the old man sighed. "I'll bet you want me to put some clothes on before I go, huh?"
"I would certainly appreciate it Mr. Earling," I said politely. All that talk about 'those two guys' was making me depressed all over again. I almost wanted to go after the two dangerous skips so that I could shoot some volts into them and not get into any trouble for it.
"Well, all right. I guess I could put my coat on. It is a little nippy out. Last time I went out I nearly froze my doodad off." Unh. Come on, I thought. All I wanted was for the guy to get his keys, lock his door, and get into my car so I could bring him back to jail.
"We'll have to take your car this time," he said. "Mine is in the shop. Had to get a new muffler put on it." Last time I'd brought him in, I had had to borrow his car to do it. It had been a very low point in my life. Just then, every point in my life seemed to be a low one. Some were just lower than others.
I let him rattle on all the way to the station and while Juniak was writing out my body receipt, I called Vinnie to come bail him out again. It was the least I could do, since he was a neighbor and all. But my motives for the courtesy weren't nearly so altruistic. What with the occasional shoot outs or bombings that seem to happen around me more than occasionally, I really had to make sure that I kept on good terms with all my neighbors. After all, I wouldn't want them to get any ideas about trying to get me evicted.
With Vinnie on his way and body receipt in hand, I strode out the door feeling very lucky not to have run into Morelli. That accomplished, I decided to run by the office and grab Lula so she could help me with the White brothers. I was going to leave Joyce for later. You know, save the best for last. And was I ever going to enjoy bringing that slut in. I could zap her all I wanted without any chance of being arrested. And did that bitch ever have it coming to her.
Before I knew it, I was parked in front of the office. Time flies when you're having fun. Or daydreaming about maiming your arch nemesis. I got out of my car and went inside to collect both my check from Earling and backup for the car thieves.
I must have still had a shit-eating grin on my face because when I walked in the girls exchanged looks. Probably they were wondering about my current level of sanity. I handed Connie the receipt and watched as she wrote the check.
"So, you wanna ride shotgun with me Lula?"
"Damn straight I do. Only it better not be no empty building like before. That was pretty damn creepy." I sighed. Yeah, pretty damn creepy pretty much covered it. I still didn't know what to do about Blackwell.
On that thought, Vinnie walked in the door.
"So how's it coming with those skips I gave you?" He asked me.
How about you take those files and shove them up your ass, I asked him in my head. I refrained from doing it aloud.
"Wonderfully," I told him sarcastically.
"Come on," Vinnie said, motioning to his office as he started to walk back in. Ew. I did not want to go into his den of iniquity.
"Well?" he asked, turning back to look at me.
I got up and followed. Slowly. Once inside, I was very careful not to touch anything. You never know what's been where in Vinnie's office; it's where he hides his perversions from his wife. And I didn't want to get rabies or some such thing. He motioned for me to take a chair and I gingerly perched myself on the edge of what looked like the cleanest one in the room.
"How's the Blackwell case going," he asked as he sat himself behind his desk.
"You know that address he gave you for the bond information?" I asked. "There's no one there."
"Whaddya mean there's no one there?" Vinnie demanded. He did not sound happy at all.
"Just what I said," I told him. "There's no one there. No one was living in the apartment. Nothing was in the apartment; it's completely empty and has been for a while from the looks of it. There wasn't any furniture, and there weren't any marks in the carpet from where furniture had been. Nothing was in the fridge, nothing in the medicine cabinets, and the shower was scrubbed and clean – no mildew or water stains. Nothing. No one lives there, Vinnie."
"Did you ask the neighbors?" he asked. Ooh, I thought. Vinnie was going to just love this one.
"What neighbors?" I said. "All of the other apartments were the same. Nobody home in any of them. I think that it's a vacant building."
"Aw, shit," he griped. As I watched, I could see him starting to turn beet red.
"So what are you going to do about it?" he demanded to know.
"Me?" I asked. What the hell did he expect me to do about it, I wondered. I was certainly no Ranger – I didn't have his skills or his connections. Hell, I could barely catch the skips when I knew where they were. Then I remembered all over again that Ranger had skipped town himself and the hurt in my chest came back full force. I had a feeling that that would be happening to me a lot in the near future, at least until I got used to his desertion.
"Yes, you," Vinnie said. "Who did you think I meant? It's your skip, isn't it?"
I shut my eyes and counted to ten. It really wouldn't help matters if I took the nearest blunt object and beat Vinnie over the head with it. Although I would probably get out a lot of my aggression if I did. And I imagined that Connie and Lula would appreciate the day off. And I'd get a nice upper body work out.
When I had my anger under control, I said "Vinnie, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. The only skips I've had so far have been the one's that are easily found. The ones that have a real address. The only times I've ever even come into contact with a skip who is actively trying to stay away from the justice system for an extended period, and is actually pretty good at it, is when I work with Ranger. When I worked with Ranger, I mean." I was very proud that my voice didn't waver when I talked about him.
Vinnie seemed to be contemplating things. I could almost hear the wheels turning in that twisted little mind of his.
"What about the dealer. How's that coming?" he wanted to know.
"Um, well…" I wavered, unsure of how he would react.
"You haven't even looked for him yet, have you?" he asked. "Fine. Work on that. Tell me what you find by tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," I yelped. There was absolutely no way I could bring him in by tomorrow.
"Just what you can find," he objected. "It's not like I'm asking you to have the body receipt in here by tomorrow. Yeesh, you'd think I asked you to climb Mt. Everest or something."
"Just look into it?" I asked. "Just check things out?" It's what he'd said, but I wanted to clarify. Vinnie was a weasel, but he was a very sneaky weasel, and I wanted to make sure that was all he expected me to do. If it was, then I could check some things out that night.
"That's what I said, isn't it?" he replied. That wouldn't be too hard, then, I thought. I was starting to get scared, though. Vinnie was actually sounding reasonable. Reasonable wasn't a word I associated with Vinnie.
"What are you doing now?" He asked me.
"Going after the Whites," I told him.
"Ok, give me a second," he said as he took out a slip of paper and scribbled something down on it. "This is a list of bars that they like to hang out in. You should probably get a file cabinet or something and some folders and start keeping a file on every skip you get. We get a lot of repeats here, and this way when you find information about one of 'em, you can put it into a file. Then when you need to look for them again, you don't need to start from scratch or rely on memory."
Hmm, sounded logical. That was when I really started to question my sanity. Reasonable, logical, and both from the man that was once in love with a duck. But he was being nice about it all, so I thought that the least I could do was return the favor.
"Thanks Vinnie," I said to him as I stood up to leave. "I'll do that."
"And shut the door on your way out," he said, back to his snarling, weasely self.
Like I'd leave it open and expose Connie to your sexual exploits, I thought to myself.
"Sure, Vinnie." I was getting really good at the whole restraint thing, but I wasn't sure how much longer I could be completely civil, so I made my exit a rather fast one.
Connie and Lula were both staring at me when I turned around.
"What?"
"Nothing." Simultaneous answer. Nothing. Sure.
"Come on, Lula. Let's go."
"Sure thing Steph. You sure you don't wanna decontaminate yourself first?" she asked.
"Nah," I told her. "I've got wet-naps in the car."
"Ok. Just lemme just grab some o' my backup," she said.
"Just hurry up. We have a lot to do," I said. And not a lot of time in which to do it.
Connie sent me another one of those looks. I think it was the fact that I didn't argue about Lula bringing her firepower. Let her think what she would. I was starting to think that I should have some firepower of my own.