I sat in my car, mesmerized by the curly-haired brunette as she exited Fiorello's, drinking a soda while she walked. The sway of her hips was like a direct line to my crotch. I fixed myself as she slid behind the wheel and popped the top two buttons on her red silk shirt. The brunette bent slightly to do something I couldn't see. Then, she sat up and tossed what appeared to be pantyhose into the backseat. Dios! I couldn't afford the distraction.
She settled in her seat and opened a folder. Was she a new bounty hunter for Vinnie? The woman raised one photograph, followed by another, until she memorized each one. I was impressed with her approach. Her brows furrowed as she looked at the final image. She touched the picture, probably noticing a scar or birthmark worth noting. Whose file did she get from Connie?
Perhaps Connie gave the woman Morelli's file. Does she know the Trenton-born cop? Did she have a sexual relationship with him? Why did that thought bother me? She was available to date anyone she wanted. The woman doesn't deserve to get saddled with an emotionally stunted man such as myself.
I couldn't help but wonder if she was one of the women Morelli relieved of her virginity when she was in high school. Morelli's prowess as a womanizer was well known in the Burg. Women compared stories about their encounters with the cop. Detective Morelli earned the title of Italian Stallion. The woman appeared to be around Morelli's age. Likely, she was closer to my age. I wanted to know everything about her.
The brunette cast the file aside. She must be on the case. I smiled as she bent over before attempting to start the piece of crap car she drove. Laughter erupted as the woman slammed her fist on the dash, and the car roared to life. I wondered where she was going.
She pulled a U-turn, heading toward the Route 1 exit. I followed until she entered the parking lot of Morelli's apartment. Shaking my head at her misfortune, I drove toward Stark Street to catch Jesus Rodriguez.
The man was where I expected to find him behind Pete's Pub. Rodriguez was dealing crack to the teens. I quickly called the others for backup as I approached the group. The teens took off running, thinking I was there to arrest them. I let them go and approached Rodriguez. He shoved past me and ran into the large frame of Tank, my second-in-command. Defeated, Rodriguez extended his hands for me to snap the cuffs on his wrists.
Tank's lip twitched in amusement. He loved intimidating the skips. It was easy for him since he was six foot four tall. Men find me intimidating once I give them my deadly glare. I offered that to the skip, whose eyes popped open in fear. I've still got it.
After I cuffed the man into the backseat, I slipped inside the car to drive him to the precinct. Tank and the others climbed into the second SUV. "Are you going to cooperate?" I snarled.
"Yes, sir," Rodriguez whimpered.
"Good."
I was disappointed to find Robin Russell working at the intake desk. Her partner, Carl Costanza, cuffed Rodriguez to the bench and returned my cuffs. I gave Robin the paperwork for my FTA. She smiled politely as she passed me the body receipt. I nodded my thanks without speaking a word or dropping my blank face. Robin sighed as I turned. In the reflection of the windows, I caught her watching my ass. I added Robin Russell to the list of women to avoid whenever possible. Joyce Barnhardt and Terry Gilman tied for the top position on that list. Connie Rosolli and Jeanne Ellen Burrows were second and third.
Jeanne Ellen worked for Les Sebring's bond office. I met her when I visited Sebring for a BEA job on behalf of Rangeman. She flirted, and I nearly caved, but I had long ago learned not to shit where I eat. There was no denying that I was attracted to Jeanne Ellen. Getting involved with her would bite me in the ass. I couldn't afford bad press for Rangeman. Jeanne Ellen would behave as all women scorned and ruin my reputation before I built it. She wasn't worth the hassle. Judging by how much Jeanne Ellen cared about her body and clothes, she was also high maintenance and a gold digger. I had no time or patience to get involved with someone like her.
My mind wandered to the curly-haired, sexy brunette. I was curious about her. What was her name? Unable to think about anything else, I called Silvio. He answered on the second ring. "Find anything you can on Detective Joseph Morelli and the women he knows," I ordered.
"How far back?" Silvio asked.
"High school," I replied. He promised to have the information for me this evening and hung up. I wanted to review the files before retiring for the night. Hopefully, Silvio would run background checks on the women Morelli knew. In those BCGs, I hoped to find the sexy brunette woman's name. She was a distraction I didn't need, but I couldn't stop thinking about her.
I met Tank and the others at Shortys, where they split a loaded pizza, and I ate my grilled chicken salad. The men rolled their eyes at my choice, but I didn't care. My father had a heart attack last year. His double bypass heart surgery initiated the change in my diet. I ate less red meat and pork. My protein selection was grilled chicken, turkey or salmon.
We discussed the next steps for opening Rangeman in Trenton. "I found a few apartments where the superintendent wants us to extract the drug users and dealers from the building. The children living there are vulnerable," Tank said.
"When?" I asked.
"At 05:30," Tank replied. I nodded imperceptibly. "Who is she?"
I raised a brow. "She must be hot and sexy," Lester laughed when I didn't answer. "The sexiest of women fall at your feet. You don't have to try."
"Are you coming with us for the apprehension off Route 1 at the apartment complex with that breezeway?" Bobby asked. "It's the same building where Detective Morelli lives." He sipped his water, curious if I wanted to join them on the excursion which might bring me face-to-face with that sexy brunette.
My pager beeped. I unclipped it from my belt to read the message. "Ranger?" Tank asked.
"Connie asked for a callback," I replied. The guys stopped talking so I could ask Connie what she wanted. I hoped it would repay the favour I owed her for introducing me to Vinnie, Sebring, and Chief Juniak.
"Vincent Plum Bonds," Connie answered when I called. "I need you to make the new apprehension agent a badass."
"What's in it for me?" I asked, making the guys smile. They remained quiet as I continued my discussion with Connie.
"You owe me a favour, and I'm cashing in," Connie replied.
"If I do this, we're even?" I asked.
"Yes," Connie breathily answered. "She needs a crash course." My lip quirked as I thought about officially meeting the sexy brunette.
"Tell her I'll be at the cafe around the corner from the office. At two sharp. One minute late, and I'll leave," I replied.
Connie talked to someone in the background who must have agreed because Connie said, "She'll meet you there."
"Do you want one of us to take your place?" Lester asked.
"I'll take care of this," I replied. Lester waggled his brows and laughed. The guys found the situation amusing.
I entered the downtown cafe and sat at the back table, waiting for the female BEA working for Vinnie to arrive. An ugly brown Nova parked at the curb behind my car. I watched in awe as the sexy, curly-haired brunette stepped on the curb with the sexiest black heels, making her legs look long and lean. Her curvy hips swayed as she walked toward the door. I swung my eyes to the entrance and focused on maintaining my blank face.
The woman stepped through the door. She sighed when the cool air flowed across her body. Her nipples hardened from the sudden chill. My dick jumped in arousal. I reached beneath the table with my left hand to fix myself while she glanced around the room for the man Connie described. Placing my elbows on the table, I looked at her and waited until she caught my eyes.
She squared her shoulders and walked toward me. The woman exuded confidence and control despite her hair proving she was anything but confident or controlled. It was something more along the lines of tenacious, stubborn and resilient. I wondered if she could handle being around a bunch of ex-military men. How she reacted to me would dictate where I took our potential working relationship. I didn't need another Jeanne Ellen. Thank goodness I never crossed that line with that viper.
"Hi, Ranger?" she asked, confidently extending a hand.
I took it to shake. Her fingers felt soft and smooth. A tingle appeared at the base of my skull. "Yes," I replied, patiently waiting for her to tell me her name.
"Stephanie Plum," she said. "Connie asked me to meet you here."
Leaning back and grinning, I said, "She wants me to give you a crash course in becoming a badass fugitive apprehension agent. What's the hurry?"
"I drive that brown Nova parked at the curb," she said, pointing outside. I knew which car she was talking about, having seen her arrive.
I nodded imperceptibly and said, "You need money. Is there anything else driving this need?"
Snorting, Stephanie said, "Personal reasons."
"Your personal reasons must be pretty fucking good because bond enforcement is a dangerous business. It takes guts and grit to capture the fugitives," I said.
My heart raced when she gave me a nervous smile and asked, "What are your reasons for being in the apprehension business?"
Raising my palms in a half-shrug, I replied, "I'm the best in the field." She seemed impressed with my answer. I patiently waited to hear her thoughts.
"At the moment, I need steady employment. Someday, I'll be good at the apprehension business, too," she said. I hoped she would find a stable job in another sector. Working in law enforcement wasn't a job for a Burg woman, regardless of her resilience.
"Did Vinnie give you a skip?" I asked.
Sighing, Stephanie replied, "Joseph Morelli." My booming laugh bounced off the walls of this little sandwich shop. Stephanie bristled, but she seemed to like the sound of my laughter and the look of my smile. She was as affected by me as I was by her.
"Are you joking? This isn't some street punk you're chasing. Morelli's smart, and he's good. You won't catch him. Do you understand what I'm saying?" I asked, feeling rather amused.
Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Connie says you're good," she said.
"Sweet Thing, there's me, and there's you, and you're never going to be as good as me," I said. Her lip curled at the nickname, indicating she found it offensive. I scratched that off the list of potential names. In my mind, she was Babe, but I wasn't willing to share that yet.
Her patience snapped as she leaned forward. "I'm out of work. My car got repossessed, my refrigerator is empty, and I'm about to be evicted from my apartment because I can't afford rent. Plus, these shoes don't fit. Sitting here socializing is a waste of my time. Are you going to help me or not?"
Grinning, I said, "This will be fun, like Professor Higgins and Eliza Doolittle do Trenton."
Stephanie sighed in relief. "What do I call you?" she asked, respecting my boundaries. At that moment, I fell in love with her. Stephanie was the first woman unwilling to make assumptions about my preferred name.
"Ranger, which is my street name," I replied. I reached across the table to take the paperwork she brought. My hand lightly grazed hers as I pulled them closer to read. "Have you checked his apartment or anything else?" I knew the answer, but I needed to hear it from her.
"Morelli wasn't at his apartment, but I found him hiding in one on State Street," she replied. I was surprised she found him quickly. "He was leaving when I arrived."
"What happened?" I questioned.
"He left," Stephanie said, her cheeks pink in embarrassment.
Teasingly, I asked, "Didn't anyone tell you to stop him?"
"Well," Stephanie said, picking at her fingernails. "I asked him to come with me to the police station, but he didn't want to."
I laughed, "I suppose you don't have a gun?"
She sucked in a deep breath, "Should I get one?" Stephanie seemed uncomfortable with the idea of getting a gun.
"In the bounty hunting business, it's a good idea," I said, grinning. Her eyes glazed over. I read the rest of the bond agreement and the charges against Joseph Morelli. "The cop killed Ziggy Kulesza. He used his piece, putting a .45 hydroshock between Kulesza's eyes at close range." I looked at her and asked, "What do you know about guns?" Stephanie needed to understand the danger she faced while chasing after Morelli and other criminals.
"I don't like guns," Stephanie replied, offering nothing about the damage Morelli's weapon caused.
"A .45 hydroshock enters smoothly but blows a hole the size of a potato when it exits. Ziggy's head probably exploded with brains all over the place," I explained.
Stephanie's face paled, "I'm glad you shared that with me." She stared when I grinned. I don't remember the last time I smiled so much.
"You needed to know," I replied, sitting back in my chair and folding my arms across my chest. Stephanie licked her lips when my biceps ripped. "Do you have the case background?" I wanted to know how much she learned about the case.
"Morty Beyers clipped newspaper articles to the file. The shooting was just over a month ago in a building on Shaw. Morelli claimed Carmen Sanchez called regarding a police matter. According to Morelli, he arrived at her apartment, and Ziggy Kulesza answered the door. Kulesza drew his gun, and Morelli fired in self-defence. However, Carmen's neighbours couldn't corroborate his story. They rushed into the hall and saw Morelli standing over a dead man, holding a smoking weapon. A tenant hit Morelli with a case of beer. Nobody recalled seeing Kulesza with a gun. The weapon never materialized during the initial investigation. Joe also claimed another man was inside the apartment. Three tenants remembered seeing an unfamiliar man, but he was gone before the police arrived," Stephanie explained.
I was proud of her for researching, reading and memorizing the information Beyers provided to assist with the apprehension. "Where was Carmen?" I asked.
"Nobody saw her there," Stephanie replied. "The last article from a week after the shooting indicated Carmen disappeared."
"Is that everything?"
"Yup," she replied.
"Ziggy Kulesza worked for Benito Ramirez. Have you heard that name?"
"He's a boxer," Stephanie said.
"Ramirez is a heavyweight, the biggest boxer to live in Trenton since George shafted the Hessians. He trains in the Stark Street gym. Ziggy used to stick close to Ramirez and often sparred with him to remain his gofer and bodyguard," I explained.
"Why would Joe shoot Kulesza?" Stephanie queried, tilting her head to the side to expose her neck. I gave her a slow stare as I imagined licking the length of her neck with my tongue and gently nibbling the skin with my teeth.
"Not that I heard," I replied. "Morelli is a good cop and would only shoot if he had a good reason."
"Cops make mistakes. They aren't perfect. You hear about it on the news," Stephanie challenged.
"Not Morelli, Babe," I replied. Stephanie smiled at the nickname, and her cheeks turned pink. "He wouldn't shoot unless forced to defend himself."
"What are you trying to say?" Stephanie asked.
"Be careful," I replied. Stephanie's face paled, and I knew she felt sick from the danger she would face while chasing Morelli. Stephanie's emotions played across her face. She felt guilty for wanting to capture him, disliked him for whatever transpired between them and was reluctant to send him to prison for the rest of his life. What did Morelli do to Stephanie? "Do you still want to catch him?" I asked.
Stephanie remained silent for a few minutes too long, prompting me to say, "Someone else will go after him if you don't. You have to focus on the job and bring the man in. It isn't your place to make judgments, and you have to trust in the system."
She glared at me and challenged, "Do you trust the system?"
"It beats the shit out of anarchy," I joked.
"The bond is high. Why didn't Vinnie give you the file if you're that good? Why was it assigned to Morty Beyers?" she asked.
I quirked my brow and replied, "Vinnie works in mysterious ways."
Stephanie snorted and mumbled that he frequently moved in questionable circles. "Do you have any more insight on Morelli?" she questioned.
"I heard the judicial system is the least of his problems. You need to act fast to get your money," I suggested. When Stephanie asked if there was a contract on Morelli, I made the standard gun sign and said, "Bang."
"Are you sure the rumours are true?"
"Babe, I'm only telling you what I heard on the streets."
"And the plot thickens."
"Your job is simple. Don't care about the plot. Find Morelli and bring him in," I reminded her.
"Can I do this?"
"No," I replied, discouraging her from getting involved in a dangerous situation.
Visibly displeased by my answer, Stephanie asked, "Can you help me anyway?"
Chuckling, I replied, "You can't tell anyone. I don't want to tarnish my image by appearing to be a good guy."
She nodded. "Where do I begin?"
"We need to get you some hardware, and I'll tell you about the law," I replied.
Stephanie chewed on her bottom lip. She looked at me and asked, "Is this going to be expensive?"
"I'm providing my knowledge and time for free because I like you," I replied. In reality, I already loved her. Smiling, I added, "I always wanted to be Professor Higgins. Handcuffs cost forty bucks a pair. Do you have plastic?"
She hesitated momentarily before saying, "I have a few dollars set aside." It felt like she was diving into the last of her savings and had already maxed out her credit card. I wanted to help her purchase the items, but she was from the Burg. Stephanie might misinterpret my intentions. I had to stay on my side of the line I drew in the sand.
We left the diner. Stephanie glanced at her car and grimaced. I placed a hand on her lower back and guided her to my vehicle. She shook her head and stepped away. "Please, Babe," I said. Stephanie dropped her chin to her chest and mumbled something about being a sucker for the word, please. I filed that intel away for later. "Tell me about yourself."
"Seriously?"
I motioned with my hand for her to talk. She rolled her eyes. "I can't stop myself from blindly pushing forward with dumb projects," Stephanie said. I raised a brow. She glanced at me sideways, catching my expression. "I married the horse's behind, Dickie Orr, and despite the idiotic name, I thought I could change him. He proved to be the biggest dick I had ever met," Stephanie quietly said. "It was a marriage from hell. I compromised until I caught him screwing Joyce Barnhardt on my dining room table."
Her confession made me whistle. "What have you tried so far with Morelli?" I asked, hoping I could offer more suggestions after the impromptu training session. I needed to know what she was capable of doing.
"You already know everything," she said.
"The bare details," I argued.
"I followed his cousin Mooch Morelli from his apartment to another off State Street. When I arrived, I planned to call the police and have them cuff and take him away. Morelli refused to come with me and left," Stephanie replied. "I asked Connie for help. She called you, and we're in your fancy car, driving to who knows where." Beneath her breath, Stephanie added, "I need that ten grand."
"Sunny's Gun Shop," I said. I parked at the store, exited the vehicle and waited for Stephanie to get out. She took a deep breath and opened the door. When I met her at the front of the car, I placed my hand on her lower back, pleased when she let me keep it there until we entered the shop.
I lowered my hand and motioned for Stephanie to approach the counter. Sunny smiled and helped me select a Smith Wesson .38 for Stephanie. It was the cheapest weapon for sale. I patiently waited as Stephanie filled out the paperwork to obtain the gun legally. Typically, the shop owner had a three-day wait period to run a background check. Sunny waived the waiting period since I was with Stephanie; Sunny knew me.
Stephanie paid for the gun, license and a box of ammunition. I nodded at Sunny, who provided a second box of ammo for me to teach Stephanie gun safety and how to shoot her gun. Sunny would charge the extra bullets and the range time to Rangeman. It was part of the arrangement I negotiated upon my arrival in Trenton.
Reluctantly, Stephanie let me show her how to aim and shoot the paper men at the end of the firing lane. I corrected her stance, placed the gun firmly in her right hand and moved her left hand to support the right. "I hate guns," she mumbled.
"You need it in the business for protection," I whispered. Stephanie shivered as my breath tickled her ear. She nodded as I whispered the instructions. I checked her form, placed the protection over her ears and stepped back. "Shoot!" I ordered.
Stephanie emptied the .38 into the paper target. Every bullet hit the heart within an inch. She was a natural. I assumed it was her first time firing a weapon since she never mentioned using one before today. Stephanie set the gun on the ledge and removed the ear protection.
"You're a natural," I said, earning a smile.
"I don't like guns," Stephanie repeated. She added another sentence which sounded like she had fired one several years ago. I hoped to learn that story.
"Let me show you how to load the gun," I said. Stephanie shifted from foot to foot as I showed her the process. I emptied the weapon and got her to reload the bullets. Her hands shook as she put them into the cylinder. I showed her how to fire by pulling the trigger or the hammer before the trigger. She fumbled a few times, but she still managed to hit the target. Once she finished, she returned the gun to the ledge.
I showed Stephanie how to clean the gun. She listened and let me do the work. My pager buzzed. I quickly read the message. Stephanie tucked the ammo and weapon in her purse. Her permit to own the gun didn't cover carrying concealed. I hoped her connections in the TPD would keep a rookie officer from charging her during a routine traffic stop.
Stephanie looked at me expectantly. "Are you driving me back to the diner, or do I have to call a cab?" She had her cellphone in her hand, preparing to call someone for a ride.
"I'll drive you back," I promised. She nodded appreciatively. Our drive to the diner was quiet, allowing me to get into my zone. Deep in thought, Stephanie stared out the passenger side window. Before I could fully stop at the curb, Stephanie jumped out.
"Thanks," she abruptly said before running to her car. I waited until she climbed into the driver's seat before leaving.