TWENTY-SEVEN

Scott could have read my license plate in Braille, he followed so close behind the truck. Every time I put on my brakes, I worried he might accidently rear-end me. I liked my new truck. I really didn't want any harm to come to it on my first day behind the wheel. Lula and Connie were already inside the bonds office when I pulled up. I walked in, toting a McDonalds bag.

Vinnie immediately stuck his head out of his office. I held up a hand before he could speak. "If you're going to harp on Fortecelli, don't bother. He's dead." Three sets of eyes swiveled in my direction. I held my hands up innocently. "Don't look at me that way. I didn't kill him."

"You got a body receipt?" Vinnie demanded.

That man only ever thought about money. I shook my head. "Sorry. I don't actually know where his body happens to be."

"Do I want to know, then, how you know he's dead?" Connie asked.

I filled them in on a shortened version of last night's events. Conveniently leaving out everything about my hideous breakup with Morelli and my new relationship status with Ranger.

"Well, you'd better drag in the rest of the skips if you plan on keeping your job," Vinnie threatened as he slammed his office door. I just rolled my eyes after him.

"So, who's first today?" Lula inquired as I sunk into the couch and fished out my breakfast sandwich and hash browns.

"I want to revisit Thompson," I replied between bites. "Same plan as last time, except hopefully they've reinforced his stairs now."

Lula climbed into the passenger seat of my truck and soon we were rolling toward Clay Thompson's apartment. I idled at the curb across the street from the derelict Victorian house. Scott sat in his SUV a couple cars behind me. Clearly, the repairmen had given up on fixing the rotting wood steps. Instead, they'd replaced the entire staircase with a set of metal steps that made me wonder which building in Trenton now missed its fire escape. I didn't look forward to attempting to guide a cuffed, possibly stunned, Thompson down the narrow path.

I reached into my purse and grabbed my stun gun, which I jammed into my coat pocket. Lula elbowed me just as I finished pocketing a set of flexi-cuffs, along with a set of metal cuffs, just in case.

"There's Thompson," she exclaimed.

I followed her point. Thompson lumbered down the metal steps, toting a bag of garbage. If I could cuff him on solid ground, it would make my life so much easier.

"Let's roll," I told her, hopping out of the truck before Lula could even get her seatbelt off. I sprinted across the road. Thompson had his back to me as he deposited his garbage onto the heap under the steps. Grabbing my stun gun, I prepared to zap him, but he turned just before I reached him.

With a roar like a wounded bear, Thompson's eyes grew wide and he swiped at me. My stun gun flew through the air in a high arc, landing ten feet away. I scrambled for my flexi-cuffs, but Thompson intercepted my arms, trying to grab my wrists. I slid away, however, by slipping out of my coat. We both lunged for the fallen stun gun at the same time. Thompson reached it first, but I took the opportunity to literally jump on his back. Wrenching the metal cuffs out of my back jeans pocket, I tried to snap a bracelet around his wrist, but missed as he bucked me off.

My head bounced off the frozen ground, leaving me momentarily seeing stars. I felt the handcuffs get pulled from my grip, and suddenly cold steel circled my left wrist. Thompson yanked me to my feet, dragging me toward the stairs to his apartment. Reaching up, he snapped the other end of the cuffs through a metal rung on the steps, stretching my left arm high above my head and forcing me to move onto my tip toes to keep from dislocating my shoulder.

"Dumb bitch," he growled at me before stomping up the stairs and slamming his apartment door behind him.

I blinked in surprise at my sudden predicament. The entire incident took thirty seconds tops. Lula loped across the front yard, eyes wide over what she'd just witnessed. Scott appeared only a few steps behind her, looking equally surprised.

"Get me down, please," I said to them. My toes began to cramp and shoulder ache. Not to mention, the air temperature hovered around twenty and my coat lay a few feet away on the ground.

"Where are the handcuff keys?" Scott asked calmly.

I thought for a second. "In my bag, I think." Honestly, I couldn't be sure. Usually when I brought in a skip in metal cuffs, the cops just used their keys to transfer custody.

Lula retrieved the truck key from my coat pocket and soon returned with my bag. She pawed through it for a minute or two, before dumping it all out on the ground.

"Seriously?" I asked as several tampons rolled along the ground. Scott blushed, looking away.

"Do you want down or not?" Lula shot back, sorting through the pile of junk in search of the handcuff keys. A few minutes later, the last item found its way back into my bag and Lula gave me an apologetic shrug. "They're not here, Steph."

Shit. I looked at Scott. "Please tell me you have a set of universal cuff keys?" I asked, my breath misting as I shivered.

"The SUV is only stocked with flexi-cuffs. I could call back to the office and see if they have any there."

I really didn't need all of Rangeman hearing about my latest debacle. "Just call Ranger directly," I sighed.

Scott pulled out his cell and made the call. While he explained my situation to Ranger, Lula eased my coat over my right arm and attempted to drape it over my left shoulder to keep me from freezing before rescue came. Then she located a few broken boards left over from the wooden steps and shoved them under my feet, taking the stress off my toes.

By the time Ranger pulled up, my left arm had gone completely numb. He ambled over, arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the scene. Although his expression stayed serious, I knew him well enough to catch the amusement threatening to break through at any second. It wasn't the first time I'd had to call him to release me from a precarious position involving handcuffs. At least I remained clothed this time.

Gently, Ranger freed my left hand. The limb fell heavily to my side. I groaned as pins and needles immediately prickled along my skin as the blood flow returned. I shook the appendage, trying to hurry along the process. Suddenly, two gold glints sparkled as they flew through the air. I stopped shaking my arm, completely stunned by the sight of the fake wedding rings laying on the ground. Looking at my left hand, I hand to blink a few times before I accepted what I saw. The rings were finally off.

Ranger scooped the jewelry off the ground, then offered them to me. "Would you like them as a memento?" he asked, lips curled in a half smile.

I shook my head and Ranger pocketed them.

"Your skip live up there?" Ranger asked, pointing to the door at the top of the metal stairs.

I nodded and Ranger clomped up the steps, motioning for Scott to follow him. Lula and I huddled a few feet away from the base of the stairs, our eyes focused on the landing. Ranger pounded on Thompson's door. A minute later, the door opened, Thompson clearly expecting to see me as he grumbled, "back for more, stupid bitch?"

Ranger barely seemed to move. Perhaps a slow motion camera might reveal exactly what he did. With a yelp, Thompson suddenly face planted. Ranger had him cuffed within seconds, then he and Scott hauled Thompson to his feet.

Thompson looked down the steps, glaring at me. "Fucking bitch! That's not fighting fair."

Ranger wrenched Thompson's arms painfully, making the man squeal. "Call my girlfriend a bitch one more time and you'll descend these steps over the railing."

Thompson whimpered into submission as Scott and Ranger led him down to solid ground.

"Girlfriend?" Lula squeaked, her wide eyes turned on me.

I squirmed under her look. "I better get the truck door open for them," I dodged, hurrying away to hold the truck door open while Ranger and Scott hoisted Thompson into the backseat and belted him in.

"If I learn you put one scratch on the interior of this truck, or give her anything other than your full and complete cooperation when you arrive at the station, I promise you'll be begging them to let you stay in prison compared to what I'll be waiting to do to you out here." Ranger delivered the warning to Thompson in a quiet, yet terrifying, tone.

Thompson nodded his head numbly as Ranger shut the truck door. I crossed my arms and fixed Ranger with a hard stare. "You're supposed to be doing nothing but resting for another week," I chided him. "And then only light duty assignments for the two weeks following."

Ranger shrugged. "That was just a little rehabilitation exercise. Stretching my muscles out again before I attempt anything truly difficult."

I rolled my eyes so hard I gave myself a headache. "Oh please. You are such a show off!"

That earned me half a smile. "Scott will follow you to the station. I'm going home to rest." I snorted. Like hell that's how he planned to spend the rest of his morning. "Be careful," he added, his voice growing soft. He pulled me into him for a long kiss, which despite the cold and audience, still set my blood on fire.

I climbed behind the wheel of my truck, Lula already waiting in the passenger seat. "Girlfriend?" she asked again.

Pretending I didn't hear her, I drove the familiar route to Trenton P.D.

"Girlfriend?" Lula practically shouted it this time.

"So Ranger and I are dating now. What's the big deal?" I finally sighed.

Lula looked as though I'd just asked her why oxygen mattered. "Because Mr. Tall, Dark and Can't Commit doesn't date. And what about Morelli?"

"Morelli and I broke up after Thanksgiving," I reminded her. There was no way I intended to talk about last night.

"Yeah, but you two do that all the time. You always get back together."

"Well, not this time," I shot back in a tone I hoped would end the conversation.

"If you're going to keep talking about all this emotional girl shit, please, just put a bullet in my head," Thompson grumbled from behind me.

"Careful," Lula warned, "or I'll sic Stephanie's boyfriend on you."