Chapter Two

I woke up at five the next morning, stumbled through a shower and made coffee. Once I felt more awake, I dressed in yoga pants and a tank top over a sports bra and fed Rex. At five-forty a.m., I headed to the building my dad had shown me yesterday on the way back from the mall and parked out front.

Eddie and Carl were waiting in the lobby for me and buzzed me in. The security looked serious, with an armed guard operating the desk and cameras I spotted in the corners of the ceiling.

"Hey, Steph! It's good to see you again," said Carl. "How have things been going?"

"I'm hoping things are starting to pick up," I said with a smile. "How's life for you?"

"Great. I love working here, and I got married last year. We have a son on the way." He was beaming.

"That's wonderful; congratulations!" I turned to Eddie. "Hi, Eddie. Long time no see. How's Shirley?"

"She's good, thanks, Steph. She said to say hi when I told her I was meeting you here this morning."

"That's nice. Give her my best. So, you guys are going to teach me to be a badass, huh?" I teased.

"Yep. Before you know it, you'll be kicking ass and taking names," replied Carl. They had me sign into the logbook at the reception desk, and I did. After confirming I had no weapons, they led me to the gym on the third floor, unfortunately via the stairs.

In the gym, they taught me some warmup stretches before they set me up on the treadmill. "Why do I need to run? I hate running," I grumbled.

"Because, Steph. If you're going to be chasing skips, you need to build up your cardio and strength and learn takedown procedures. Sometimes, the skips don't want to go back to jail, and they run. If you start running after them, you can't stop after a hundred feet with a stitch in your side."

I glared at them but started running anyway. My dad thought I needed their help, and he was probably right. But damned if this didn't suck!

After I ran two miles, I was out of breath and sweating like a pig. Naturally, this is when a movie-star handsome man came into the gym and strode over to where we were.

"Steph, this is Joe Morelli, our boss and owner of the company and building here. Sir, Stephanie Plum is Vinnie's new bounty hunter while Morty is out."

I stuck out my hand to shake his, and he glanced down amusedly before taking my extended hand. "Nice to meet you, Stephanie. Welcome to Morelli Security."

"Thanks for letting the guys train me here. I appreciate it," I said politely. My 'Burg manners were ingrained in me by this point.

"It's not a problem. How do you like working for Vinnie?" he asked.

"Well, he's my cousin, so unfortunately, I know what he's like. But I need the money, so I took the job anyway."

His eyes hinted at that previous amusement, and I couldn't decide if he was laughing at me or what, but I wasn't a fan. "Do you have any FTAs yet?" he asked.

"Yes, Connie gave me a few."

"Any worth real money?"

"Yeah, she gave me the file for Detective Mañoso."

He let out a short, harsh, barking laugh. "Oh man, really? You'll never catch that guy. He's a cop, and cops don't last in prison, you know what I'm saying?"

"You think he'll be hard to catch?"

"I think you should give up now, Sweet Thing. Let Morty have it when he comes back to work."

"Thanks for the advice." I didn't plan on following it, but I didn't want to talk to him anymore. He was kind of a jerk. Maybe he needed to be in his line of work, but it wasn't working for me.

Eddie and Carl led me through the rest of the exercise session, then took me through several takedown procedures on the mats. I learned how to get out of a couple of holds, too, and before I knew it, three hours had passed in the gym. When I was finally done, I thanked them profusely, and Carl made me promise I'd come back three times per week.

I went home, showered, and popped a plate of my mom's leftover dinner in the microwave. Pot roast for breakfast is good, right? I put a piece of carrot in Rex's cage and watched as he scurried out of his soup can to stuff it into his cheek pouch, then hide in his can again. He twitched his whiskers at me first, and I'd like to think that was his way of thanking me for the food.

When I got dressed, I put my dad's gun in my jacket pocket. I promised him I'd carry it, and I would. I knew he worried about my safety, and I didn't want to let him down. In my other pocket, I stuck a can of pepper spray. All Jersey girls carried pepper spray, and I was no different. Finally, I stuck the set of Connie-supplied handcuffs in my back jeans pocket.

I sat in my car in my parking lot, reviewing the information Connie had collected on the first skip, Clarence Sampson. He was wanted for a DUI, and she had said they bonded him so often she had memorized his social security number. Luckily, he wasn't usually violent, but he was often drunk. She suggested I check out the bars on Lower Stark, even in the morning. I studied his photo, taking in every detail until I was sure I could recognize him if I saw him. I drove to Stark Street, near the state buildings, and parked in the middle of the block. I had a pretty good view of several bars and tried to figure out what to do. I could go from bar to bar and look for him or wait for him to come out. If I left my car, there was only a fifty-fifty chance of finding it in the same condition when I returned, if it was here at all. But if I waited in my car, hoping to spot him leaving the bar, I could miss him. I really hated driving this car, but it was my grandmother's, and she probably wouldn't be pleased if it went missing.

After twenty minutes of hemming and hawing, I decided to go look for Clarence. This car was pretty distinctive, I told myself. It's not like it would be easy to make disappear, and the chances of someone needing the parts they'd get by stripping it down were probably close to zero.

I grabbed my purse from the seat beside me, ensuring I had the apprehension papers. I mentally recited my spiel for when I found him, and by the time I reached the door of the first bar, I was hopeful I could do this.

I opened the door to the Rainbow Room, a misnomer if ever I heard one. There was nothing bright or sunny about this place. It was just sad, dank, and depressing. When my eyes adjusted to the dimness of the bar's interior, I looked around carefully. Sampson was a big man, but according to his mugshot, he had a small head, dark hair and a straggly beard. I checked out the few patrons, but no luck. I nodded to the bartender and made my escape back to the sunshine.

After two more bars, I was getting a little frustrated. I checked on the car between each new place, but it was still unmolested. I stretched and looked around again, and then I saw him. He walked slowly and somewhat unsteadily toward the first bar I had checked. He had a vacant smile, looking like he hadn't a care in the world. I guess in this condition, he didn't. I hurried closer to him, walking as fast as I could without running to avoid spooking him, and when I neared, I said, "Clarence Sampson?"

He looked around and jerked when he saw me, so exaggeratedly I would have assumed it was on purpose, and answered cheerfully, "That's me!"

I held out my hand to him. "I'm Stephanie. I represent your bail bonds company. You missed your court date, so we'd like to get you rescheduled." That sounded nice and non-threatening, right?

"Oh. I must've forgot."

I smiled. "It happens. Why don't I give you a ride down to the station to get the paperwork done?"

His brow creased. "I dunno, I'm kinda busy right now."

"It won't take long. And hey, you get to ride in a classic vintage convertible driven by a pretty woman."

He smiled widely at that. "That's true. Could we ride by my house so the others can see me?"

"Sure. Let's go." I took his elbow and guided him to Big Blue. Once he was settled on the passenger seat, buckled in and looking around rather proudly, I hurried to the other side of the car and got in quickly. He gave me directions to a street a couple blocks away, and I drove by his house slowly while he waved to random passersby.

I turned Big Blue in the direction of the police station, and he soon passed out. I saw some drool on his chin, and I hoped there wouldn't be any other bodily fluids involved.

When I got to the police station, I left Sampson in the car while I went inside. Connie had told me to go to the back door where the booking department was, and they'd take custody of my FTAs and write out body receipts for me. One of the officers inside offered to help me with my skip, and I took him up on his offer.

The officer was a bald, black man who was so huge he looked like a tank. But he wasn't fat, just big. He had muscles on top of muscles and was at least six-foot-five. He wasn't particularly smiley but didn't set off my spidey sense of imminent danger either.

Once he had pulled my still-sleeping skip from the car and passed him off to someone else, he turned to address me. "Come inside, and you'll get your body receipt."

"Thanks for the help," I said. "I'm new at this and not sure how it all works yet." He nodded silently and indicated that I should follow him back inside. I grabbed the capture papers from my front seat and followed him, then handed him over when he held out his hand. While he looked them over, I took the opportunity to glance around and noticed my skip cuffed to a nearby bench.

"Do I get my cuffs back?" I asked. Another man came over then and handed me my handcuffs, smiling. He was extremely good-looking, with a gleaming white smile, black hair braided into cornrows, and dark brown eyes. He was a few inches taller than me and was extremely built.

"Thanks," I said, smiling. "I'm Stephanie Plum."

"Hi, Stephanie." He stuck out his hand for me to shake. "I'm Officer Bobby Brown. Are you the new BEA for Vinnie while Morty's out?"

"It's nice to meet you. And yes, I am. This was my first capture."

"Good job. Officer Landry will give you the body receipt when he's done processing Mr. Sampson's intake form."

"Thanks. Connie explained how it all worked, but it was hard to imagine it all until I got here."

"What did you do before this?" he asked.

"I was a lingerie buyer for E.E. Martin. It didn't exactly prep me for a job bringing criminals back to justice."

He smiled. "No, I'd say not. Though I guess it means you're used to being around criminals."

I laughed. "Yes, but unfortunately, I didn't know they were criminals when I worked there."

Officer Landry finished filling out the paperwork and cleared his throat to get my attention. "Here you are, Miss."

I took the proffered paper he held out and said, "Thanks. It was nice to meet you guys." I smiled again and left.

As I was leaving through the door, I brushed past another police officer coming inside. I smiled politely and continued to my car, but as the door closed, I heard him say, "Damn, who was that total smokeshow leaving just now?" I stifled a smile and got into my car, feeling pretty good about my morning so far.


I drove back to Vinnie's Bonds office and handed Connie my receipt, smiling brightly. I also gave her the form I'd downloaded and filled out with my banking information.

"Way to go, Steph," she said. She set the papers down on the desk and turned to her computer. "I'll send you the money, and you should get it directly deposited into your account soon."

"Thanks. I'm going to go after my second file now. Do you have any new ones for me?"

"No. We generally don't get new files until the afternoon. I'll call you if I get any files for you."

"Okay, sounds good. Oh, wait! I got a new cell phone yesterday, so I should give you that number. It's probably the best way to reach me now." I rattled off the new number and watched Connie write it down, then waved at her and left.

I had no idea where to begin to find the cop. He obviously wouldn't be at work. I couldn't ask his coworkers. Could I? And his officially listed home address was a vacant lot. Maybe his work file would have his real address. They'd need it for legal purposes, wouldn't they? Perhaps Uncle Joe could help me. I dug my phone out of my purse and called him.

After hanging up with Uncle Joe, I smiled to myself. I had known the Chief of Police since I was a baby. He wasn't my godfather but a long-time family friend who earned that honourary 'Uncle' title. We had chatted for a while, and he confided in me that he didn't want to believe Ranger was guilty of the charges, but all the circumstantial evidence against him was pretty convincing. His hands were tied; he had to follow the law. He gave me Ranger's private address but also opined that he didn't think Ranger would be dumb enough to just be at home. He probably wasn't at home, but people did dumb things sometimes, so I planned to check it out anyway. First, though, I wanted to get my smaller FTA out of the way.

According to his file, Lonnie Dodd, a twenty-two-year-old from Hamilton Township, was a first-time offender charged with auto theft. I studied his photo. He didn't seem like a very big man, and I thought I could take him in by myself, even though he was younger and probably fitter than me. I started up Big Blue and drove in the direction of his house. His occupation was listed as a mechanic, and as I got closer, I had an idea of how to apprehend him. I rolled down my passenger window and slowed to a stop in front of his neighbour's house. I watched his house for a while, trying to determine if anyone was inside. Unfortunately, I wasn't sure if he lived there alone or perhaps still with parents, roommates, or even a girlfriend.

I pulled the lever for the hood, then got out of the car, swearing loudly. I opened the hood and stared down at it, trying to glance around surreptitiously to see if anyone was watching me. I hoped that if I were convincing enough, people would believe my car had died. Then I could knock on someone's door—like Lonnie Dodd's—and ask him to help me. When he put his head under the hood, I could handcuff him. Easy peasy, right?

Wrong. When I slapped the left bracelet around his wrist, he reared back, eyes wide, figuring out what was happening. He took off at a run, with my handcuffs still attached, and I chased after him. I ran after him for about three blocks before conceding that he was much faster, and I could barely see him in the distance.

I ambled back to my car and stopped dead when I got there. The hood was still open, but I could tell at once something was wrong. I didn't know enough about cars to know what it was, though. I slammed the hood down and got into the car. It wouldn't start. With a sigh, I called my dad.

"Hi, Dad," I said when he answered.

"Hi, Pumpkin. What's going on?"

"I'm in Hamilton Township, and I had to leave Big Blue temporarily, and I left the hood open. I got back, and the car won't start."

"Do you know what's wrong?"

"No. I have no idea what I'm looking at, but something seems like it's missing."

"Okay. I'm dropping off a fare, but I'll come by afterward. In the meantime, call Triple-A and get them to bring a tow truck. We'll drop it off at Al's for him to fix. What's your address?"

I gave him the address and then called Triple-A as he suggested. After giving them the requested information, I settled in for a wait. Triple-A said it would be about an hour, and I didn't know how long my dad would be, but I would guess at least half an hour. And then we'd still have to wait for the tow truck anyway.

I downloaded some games on my phone and started playing them to keep my mind occupied while waiting. Finally, I heard a short honk and saw my dad pulling alongside me. He parallel-parked behind me, I guess so the tow truck driver could pull in front of me, and got out of his taxi to sit in Big Blue with me.

"So, what happened, Pumpkin?"

I told him about Lonnie Dodd and my idea to corner him to put handcuffs on him. I could see him fighting a smile as I relayed the story, and when I finished, he let out a loud laugh. Now that some time had passed, I could see the humour in it, too.

When Dad finally got under control, he opened his door again and walked to the front of the car. He pulled the lever to open the hood and looked down. He called me to join him and pointed at something when I did. "The distributor cap is missing. Hopefully, Al can find one and get you going again."

I let out a deep sigh. "Thanks, Dad. I'm sorry I let this happen and called you away from work."

He put his arm around me and squeezed my shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Pumpkin. Luckily, we have Triple-A coverage on all the cars."

Half an hour later, the tow truck had just finished hooking up Big Blue. He assured us he knew where Al's was, so Dad called Al to tell him it was on the way. With a final wave, we followed him down the street, but when he turned left, we turned right to go back to the 'Burg. "I'll drop you off at the house, but I have a short fare after that. You can have dinner with us; I'll drive you home afterward. Sound good?"

"Sounds great, Dad, thank you."