Recap: Stephanie and Ranger plan to talk to Benito Ramirez, and both are nervous.

Stephanie

Ranger and I sat in his truck as he helped me attach the mic. Apparently the best place to store it was in my bra. He was very thorough attaching it to me, making sure to press down the tape firmly, and assure himself that my breasts were symmetrical. It's not like I was complaining. Each time his thumb brushed my nipples my breath got faster, until I was nearly panting. I started to look around, peering out the windows.

"Looking for danger, Babe? Am I starting to rub off on you?"

I shook my head and leaned to his ear, whispering. "Looking to see if there's any deserted spots we can go and work off some of this tension."

He groaned. "Dios, you make me crazy." He adjusted himself. "As much as I want you, this place is way too exposed. How about this, after we talk to Benito, let's grab dinner. A real dinner at a good restaurant, and then we can get a hotel room. Make a nice evening out of it."

I smiled, glad to have something to look forward to.

Ranger

The gym was only a few blocks away. We talked over the plan one last time on the short drive. "I'll drop you off around the corner from the entrance, then park and sneak in the back." She nodded nervously. I pulled over and touched her hand, and she looked at me. "You don't have to do this. Like I said, there are other ways to get money."

She shook her head. "I don't like leaving things undone."

She opened the door, then turned and lunged at me, kissing me so hard our teeth bumped. I cupped her face in my hands, and kissed back for all I was worth. Then she slipped out of my hold, and then the truck. As she closed the door, I realized I'd cut my inner lip on a tooth when she kissed me. A trickle of blood spilled into my mouth.

Stephanie

As I walked towards the gym I noticed two women standing on the street corner. Both were large, and wearing clothes far too skimpy for the winter chill. I found myself wanting to delay, just a little. Just enough time to work up my courage.

"Hey" I said in as friendly a tone as I could manage. "I was wondering, do either of you know Joe Morelli?"

They both looked at me skeptically, which wasn't all that surprising, considering I was asking sex workers if they knew a cop.

"You see, I'm looking for him. He skipped bail, and I'm supposed to bring him back for trial."

"I ain't seen him in a while, not since he shot that guy." said the one on the right.

"Neither of us seen nothing. Neither of us gonna see nothing." the one on the left said emphatically. "You need to keep your mouth shut Lula."

"Jackie, quit being rude." said the one who was presumably Lula. "We used to see him occasionally, but we try to stay away from cops, you know what I'm saying?"

I nodded, understanding what she meant.

"But good luck with your search. I hope you find him."

"Thanks," I replied, digging in my pockets and handing them each my business card. "Let me know if you see him, won't you?"

Jackie looked at the card. Well, I say card, but it was actually a couple of post-it notes stuck back-to-back with my phone number and email on them. I'd order some real ones once I got another skip or two, but food had seemed a more pressing use of money at the time.

Jackie and Lula both folded over laughing. I stood there, waiting for it to subside.

"Oh Honey, You seriously this hard up? Handing out post-it notes?" Lula managed to get out through her laughter, which now seemed to me producing tears.

"I'll get better ones soon. I'm going to talk to Benito Ramirez, I'm hoping he has some information."

Instantly both women stood up and stopped laughing. It was like a switch had been flipped.

"Ramirez is a scary bastard. Likes to hurt people. Likes to hurt women." Lula said, her eyes darting around. "He took a friend of mine. She didn't want to go, but you don't say no to him. He roughed her up good. She was never the same after that."

"You shouldn't be talking about it." Jackie told her sternly. "Just work your damn corner."

Lula shrugged, then looked at me. "Your skinny ass is way more his type than my BBBW curves. So don't let him get you alone."

I promised I wouldn't, and walked toward the gym. My mind was spinning a bit. The sidewalk seemed to be compressing, making the block walk feel like only a few feet. And then I was standing in front of the door, the shapes of boxing equipment and men using it barely discernible through the grimy window, I took a deep breath and walked in.

Morelli

There are few things more boring than a stakeout. At some point you have listened to every podcast that might interest you, memorized all the latest songs, and you start imagining what life would be like if you just fled the country to a place without an extradition treaty. And under normal circumstances you have a partner to talk to, and you get a break between shifts. So doing solo surveillance is even more boring than usual. But this time the stakes were also far higher. Because it was my ass on the line, not just a case.

I'd been holed up in an abandoned apartment across from the gym where Benito Ramirez worked out for more than a week, watching through a pair of beat-up binoculars my grandfather had used for hunting. I'd had to turn in my normal guns, and his ancient hunting rifle was the only weapon I had that hadn't been seized. I was looking for the missing witness who had seen Ziggy pull a gun, and maybe taken it with him. All I knew about him was that he looked like his face had been flattened by a steamroller, and that he worked out at this gym. The t-shirt he had been wearing told me that. It wasn't much to go on, but it was all I had.

And speaking of t-shirts, a woman on the sidewalk was wearing a very tight one under her jacket. I adjusted my view a bit to focus on her tits, then upwards to her face. "Shit!" I said to the empty room. "Shit, Shit, Shit!" It was Stephanie Plum, the crazy girl who kept messing up my life lately. She'd tracked Mooch, scaring him off from supply runs. She'd searched my house, and to add insult to injury, stolen my damn car! I felt a slight twinge of guilt from leaving her alone chained up to her shower curtain, but it seemed she was OK. But what the hell was she up to now?

Ranger

I carefully opened the back fire exit to the gym, slipping in and out of the shadow until I could head the conversation in the front. Stephanie's conversation with the two working girls on the corner had made me all the more worried for her interaction with Ramirez, but I'd had a good laugh or two as well. I should print her up some proper cards when I got back home. Even regular cardstock through the home printer would be better than post-it notes.

The bell above the door tinkled as she walked in. I stayed behind a corner, close enough I could be there in 5 seconds or so if something went wrong, but hidden.

Stephanie

As soon as I walked into the gym it went silent, with all eyes on me. The seconds ticked by without anyone saying anything, so I took a deep breath and plastered my pep-squad smile on my face. "Hi, I'm looking for Benito Ramirez."

A voice came from the shadows. "I'm Ramirez."

I would have expected the voice of a man that large to be deep and rumbling. But instead it was soft and high-pitched. Like a person trying to whisper in falsetto. Still, he was over 6 feet tall and covered in muscle, and he moved with the grace I'd generally associate with a dancer rather than a boxer. Not that I knew how boxers moved.

"My name is Stephanie Plum," I said in a voice I hoped sounded professional and not like a scared mouse. I held out my hand for a shake. "I'm a fugitive apprehension agent. I'm looking for Joe Morelli, have you seen him?"

"Don't know Joe Morelli. Just know he shot Ziggy." He took my hand in his, but instead of shaking it he lifted it to his lips, kissing it lightly. I pulled my hand back, having to yank hard to get it away.

"There was a witness to the shooting. Someone with a face that had been flattened. Do you have any idea who that might be?"

Ramirez laughed in a high pitched giggle that was creepy as hell. "This is a boxing gym, everyone has a flat face."

Glancing around quickly, I realized it was true. Everyone had the signs of a broken nose or collapsed cheekbone. Who the hell was doing this sport for fun?

"OK," I said, trying one more time. I was desperate to get this over with, get out of here, and have my dinner with Ranger. The Cluck-in-a-Bucket had only taken the edge off my hunger. "What about Carmen Sanchez? Have you seen or spoken with her in the last few days?"

"You ask a lot of questions. You should forget about all that. We have a Coke Machine here. I could buy you a soda."

"No thank you. Do you know why Ziggy would have been at Carmen Sanchez's apartment?"

Ramirez started to circle me, in a movement that felt halfway between checking me out and stalking. "Most girls would think it's a treat for The Champ to buy them a soda. Wouldn't you like a treat?"

"I'd just like to know if you have any information on Joe Morelli, or anyone involved with the shooting."

"I think you need to learn to show a little respect to The Champ." Ramirez said. Then he leaned over and pinned my arms to my side, and whispered in my ear, so quietly I could barely hear, so I'm sure the mic wouldn't pick it up. "Are you afraid of me? Does your fear make you nice and ripe, Stephanie Plum?"

Of course I was scared. I'd have to be dead to not be scared. But I wasn't going to admit it. Instead I'd call in backup. "You need to get your hands off me, right now. I'm not going to say it again."

The next few seconds were a mass of confusion. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ranger coming around the corner, his face more angry than I had ever seen it. Suddenly I understood why the skips found him terrifying. Then the window exploded as the crack of a rifle sounded. Ramirez hissed at me. "You set me up bitch. You'll pay for that." and lifted me off the ground like I was no heavier than a bag of groceries. He sprinted away to the far side of the gym, much faster than he should have been able to move. I tried twisting away, but it was like being held in a straight jacket. He was beyond strong. I could see Ranger chasing us, but Ramirez ran into a small storage room with a metal door and threw a slide bolt, the kind you can only access from the inside. A second later a loud thump hit the door, like someone had tried to kick it in, but the door held. Ramirez pulled aside a shelf, revealing a hidden door with a black hole behind it. I scrambled to get away from his grip, but Ramirez ran into the dark corridor. I twisted and thrashed, cursing until I felt a sharp pain in my head, and everything went black.