Robert Carlin lived in a middle class neighborhood not far from the button factory where he worked. I arrived there a few minutes after I left Marie's house, and waited in my car for Lester to show up. Normally I would go in on my own, but doing that had a nasty tendency to land me rolling garbage, and I didn't want to show at Rangeman looking like that. It might be hard to convince the Feds I was worthy of providing security to the First dog, let alone the president, if I had scrambled eggs and coffee grounds in my hair.

Lester showed up 5 minutes after I did. He parked his black SUV across the street from me and got out, leaning against the rear door while grinning at me.

He had followed my instructions to a T. While still in all black, he wasn't wearing cargoes and a t-shirt like usual. Instead he was in slacks and a black Oxford shirt. The shirt still clung to his muscles, but he gave off an air of being a businessman who spent a lot of time at the gym, instead of a badass former special forces security specialist. The only thing about his outfit that hinted at his true profession was the black utility belt that I knew would contain a gun, a knife, pepper spray, and a Taser.

I gave him a visible once over, and showed my appreciation with a small golf clap. He strode over to me, wiggling his eyebrows. "Hey Beautiful. To what do I owe the pleasure of your wardrobe request? Have you finally decided to dump the cop and let me take you away from all this?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's Morelli's desire to take me away from my current life that causes us the most stress. Besides, you know Ranger would hunt you down to the ends of the Earth."

Lester nodded. Honestly, we both knew that all the flirting was just play. He might be almost as good looking as Ranger, and far more lighthearted, but I had enough men in my life. Adding one more might cause me to spontaneously combust.

"Well then Beautiful, let's get this show on the road. What did the guy do?"

"Hit his wife with a frying pan."

Lester's ever present grin dropped from his face. He may have killed before, but hitting someone you were supposed to love? Someone weaker than you? That was different story. Carlin would really be wise to let me take him in quietly.

I strode up to the door and banged on it. He worked second shift at the button factory, so he should be home. After 30 seconds, I banged again. Lester was standing a few feet behind me, but out of sight of any peepholes or windows. After the third try, the door was yanked open by a surprised looking Robert Carlin. He looked like I'd rousted him out of bed; his eyes were blurry and he was in sweatpants and a wife-beater. Oh the irony.

"Mr. Carlin? I represent your bail bondsman. You missed your court date, you have to come with me to reschedule."

He looked at me for a moment, then tried to slam the door. Luckily I learned a long time ago to get my boot in the door as soon as it opened. It bounced back after slamming into my CAT boots, making a slight 'sproing' sound. I pushed my way into the house and grabbed the collar of his shirt. He reached his arm back to take a swing at me, and I pulled down on the shirt while lifting my knee. His forehead slammed into it, dazing him. I pushed him onto the ground and got my knee into his back, ignoring the pain on my patella that meant I would probably end up with quite a bruise the next day. Pulling handcuffs from my pocket, I secured his arms behind his back, then looked up when I heard clapping.

"Nice job Bomber," Lester praised. "Couldn't have done it smoother myself."

I smiled back at him. "Thanks for helping to train me in hand-to-hand combat. Seems it came in handy."

Carlin groaned from the floor, and I reached down to yank him to his feet.

"Oh, let me have the honors, Beautiful?" Lester asked. "You took him down so well I didn't get to rough him up at all."

I laughed a bit at that, then stepped back, making a 'he's all yours' gesture. Lester grabbed Carlin's arms and yanked up roughly, straining his shoulders as he yelped and struggled to his feet. "Your car or mine?" Lester said, pushing Carlin out the door.

"Put him in yours. I have to make a quick stop at WaWa before we get to Marie's house. I'll meet you in the parking lot, then we can head to the station."

Lester nodded. "Get me a coffee will you?" Then he shoved Carlin out the door, who desperately tried to keep his feet under him as he stumbled out.

I closed the door, twisting the knob lock so the house would be more secure, and practically skipped back to my car. I got in, and I heard a distinct grunt as Lester shoved Carlin into the SUV, banging his shoulder hard against the frame.

I have heard other parts of the country don't have WaWas. They don't know what they are missing. It's an awesome convenience store, with Fee-Free ATMs, a deli counter, fruit smoothies, premade snacks and lunches of both the healthy and unhealthy variety, chocolate pudding with bits of cookie dough to mix in, their own line of drinks, and almost every store has a large display of TastyKakes.

I grabbed a box of Butterscotch Krimpets and a peach pie, then wandered over to the baked goods shelf. Marie's story about the chocolate melted in her underwear made the Boston Creme's look far less appetizing than usual, so instead I grabbed a cream filled coffee cake muffin. A quick stop at the coffee section and the pay counter and I was out the door.

Lester was waiting in the lot for me as I came out. Somehow he had managed to get a prime spot right in front, despite the lot being mostly full. He rolled down the window and I handed him his coffee.

"Thanks Beautiful. What flavor did you get me?"

"Cuban roast, of course. What else would I get you?" I bit into my muffin, hoping to keep the inevitable crumbs outside of my car.

Lester laughed. Then reached out to wipe a bit of the cream off my nose. I froze at the touch, and he did too.

"I'll meet you at the station, OK?" I said quickly, then scampered back to my car, wondering if the butterflies in my stomach were nerves from my upcoming job, or something else.