Ten Big Ones

by Janet Evanovich

  'We're all out of Tastykakes,' Lula said. It's either time to go home or time to go shopping.'

  'Time to go home,' I said.

  Pancek's best buddy was married, and I couldn't see the wife putting up with Pancek. The girlfriend thought Pancek should rot in hell. That was a direct quote. His neighbors barely knew him.

  That left his mother. I had a feeling Mrs Pancek knew more than she was telling us, but from todays performance it was obvious she wasn't ready to rat on her son.

  We'd run down all our leads, and there wasn't anything left to do short of staking out the mother's house. I was all in favor of a job well done, but Pancek wasn't worth a stakeout. A stakeout was a major bummer.

  Morelli called on my cell phone. He didn't waste time with hello or how are you. Morelli got right to the heart of it. 'Where are you?'

  I'm in Newark, looking for a slap.'

  1 don't suppose you'd consider staying there. Maybe getting a room.'

  'What's up?'

  'We have a dead guy here. Gunned down on the street, and then had his nuts surgically removed.'

  'Gang member?'

  'Big time. Cut. Had a J freshly carved into his forehead.'

  'Would that be J for Junkman?'

  'That would be my guess,' Morelli said. 'Are you scared yet?'

  `I'm always scared.'

  'Good. I'm drinking Pepto-Bismol by the case. I hate this. Every time my pager goes off I get an eye twitch, terrified that someone found your body.'

  'At least we don't have to worry about me getting my nuts surgically removed.'

  There was a moment of silence. That's sick,' Morelli finally said.

  'I was shooting for levity.'

  'You failed.' And he disconnected.

  I told Lula about the killing, and we went in search of the turnpike.

  These gang guys are crazy,' Lula said. 'It's like they're alien invaders, or something. Like they don't know how to live on planet

  Earth. Hell, they're not even hot aliens. Not that it would matter, but if they were hot looking they'd at least be interesting, you see what I'm saying?'

  I wasn't seeing what she was saying. I was taking slow, even breaths, and I was working at controlling my heart rate.

  I dropped Lula off at the office, and I drove to Ranger's building. I could see someone in the lobby, talking to the guard at the desk. A car pulled out of the garage, and the gate slid back into place. Too much activity, I thought. Too early for me to sneak inside.

  I parked halfway down the block, and I watched the people coining and going. I called Connie, gave her the Haywood Street address, and asked her to check on the building.

  'That's Ranger's building,' Connie said.

  'You know about it?'

  The RangeMan offices are there. Ranger moved his business into that building about a year ago.'

  `I didn't know.'

  'Well, it's not like it's the Bat Cave,' Connie said. 'It's an office building.'

  So what was with the top-floor apartment? It was filled with

  Ranger's clothes. Clearly he lived there at least part-time. I was disappointed, and I was relieved. I was disappointed because I hadn't discovered some big secret place. And I was relieved because maybe I hadn't invaded Ranger's private space. The relief was unwarranted, of course. His clothes were there. His shower gel, his deodorant, his razor were there. It might not be the Bat

  Cave, but it was Ranger's private space.

  'Anything else?' Connie wanted to know.

  'Nope,' I said. 'That was it. See you tomorrow.'

  By seven o'clock the building looked just about empty. The fifth and sixth floors were lit, but the lobby door appeared locked, and garage traffic seemed to have stopped. I locked the Lincoln, walked the short distance to the garage, and let myself into

  Rangers apartment.

  I dropped my keys into the dish on the sideboard and went to the kitchen to say hello to Rex. I had a beer and a peanut butter sandwich, and I moved to the den to take another crack at the television. After ten minutes of pushing buttons on the remote I had the picture up but no sound. I went to school with a guy who owned an appliance store. I called him at the store, and he gave me a remote lesson. Hooray, now I could watch and hear television.

  Home sweet home.

  I'd set the alarm on the bedside clock, so I could get out earlier in the morning. It was Saturday, but I suspected the security industry didn't slow for weekends, and I didn't want to take a chance on getting kicked out of the one place I felt safe.

  I borrowed a black hooded sweatshirt from Ranger's closet. The sweatshirt was miles big, but it was the best I could do by way of disguise. I pulled the hood up, rode the elevator down, and I reached the Lincoln without a problem. Connie wouldn't be in the office for a couple hours, so I crossed the river into Pennsylvania and headed for Yardley. Yardley was just a short distance from

  Trenton, but it was light years from Slayerland. Junkman would not be patrolling Yardley looking for Stephanie Plum.

  I parked in a public lot, locked my doors, and powered my seat back. It was 7:30 a.m., and Yardley was sleeping in.

  I called Morelli at nine o'clock. 'What are you doing?' I asked.

  'Bob and I are at the car wash. Then we're going to Petco to get some dog food. It's a pretty exciting morning.'

  'I can hear that. Anything new going on?'

  'Nothing you want to know about. I hope you're some place far away.'

  'Far enough. Ill be on my cell phone if you have breaking news.

  And don't forget, my mothers expecting us to show up for dinner tonight.'

  'You're going to have to pay up, Cupcake. I don't do dinner without reimbursement.'

  'I'll run a tab for you.' And I disconnected.

  Truth is, I missed Morelli. He was sexy and smart and his house felt homey. His house didn't have the aphrodisiac shower gel, but it had Bob. I really missed Bob. Go figure that one. Okay, so I had to carry his poop in a plastic bag back to the house. It didn't seem like such a big deal anymore.

  I left the lot and cruised through town. I turned onto Hamilton, drove past the office, and parked on a side street. Then I entered the office through the back door.

  Connie looked up from her computer when I walked in. 'Using the back door again?'

  `I'm trying to decrease my visibility.'

  'Good call.'

  Vinnie rarely came in on a Saturday, and Lula was always late. I poured myself a cup of coffee, and took a seat across from Connie.

  'Any new shootings, firebombings, rumors of my imminent death?'

  'Nothing new.' Connie slid the mouse across the mouse pad and clicked. `I'we got three new skips. I'm printing out the search results for you now. The original paperwork is somewhere in the mess of unfiled documents stacked on the cabinets.'

  Oh boy. Lula hadn't filed anything in so long there were more files on top of the cabinets than there were in the drawers.

  'We have to go through those stacks,' Connie said, coming out of her chair. 'And we might as well file them while we search. We're looking for Anton Ward, Shoshanna Brown, and Jamil Rodriguez.'

  An hour later, we had the documentation for all three skips, and we'd filed more than half of the outstanding cases.

  The front door crashed open, and Lula marched in. 'What's going on here?' she asked. 'I miss anything?'

  Connie and I gave Lula a cold ten-second stare.

  'Yeah?' Lula asked.

  'We just spent an hour doing your filing so we could find the paperwork on three new skips,' Connie said.

  'You didn't have to do that,' Lula said. 'I got a system.'

  'You weren't here,' Connie said. 'Where the hell were you? You were supposed to be here at nine.'

  I'm never here at nine on Saturdays. I'm always late on

  Saturdays. Everybody knows that.' Lula poured herself a cup of coffee. 'Did you hear the news? I was listening to the radio on the way in and they said the Red Devil robbed the deli-mart o
n

  Commerce Street this morning. And he shot the clerk ten times in the head. That's a lot of times to get shot in the head.'

  The Red Devil again. Getting more bold. More ruthless. It seemed like years had passed since my Escape got fried and Eddie got shot. I dropped into my seat at the desk and added Connie's search information to the three files.

  Shoshanna Brown was wanted for possession. She was a repeater. I'd picked Shoshanna up for priors, and I knew she wouldn't be hard to find. Probably she didn't have a ride to court.

  Jamil Rodriguez was caught shoplifting a variety of electronics from Circuit City. When they searched him they found a loaded Glock, a box cutter, a sandwich bag filled with Ecstasy, and a human thumb in a sealed vial of formaldehyde. He claimed to have no knowledge of the thumb.

  Anton Ward had a high bond. He'd gotten into a fight with his girlfriend and had stabbed her repeatedly with a steak knife. The girlfriend had lived, but she wasn't happy with Anton. Anton had made bail but had failed to show for court. He was nineteen with no priors. Or at least no priors as an adult. Vinnie had a notation on

  Ward's bond document that there were gang tattoos on Wards arm.

  One of the tattoos was a paw print accompanied by the letters CSS.

  Ward was a Comstock Street Slayer.

  I paged through the file, looking for the photo. The first photo was a profile. The second was full on. I saw the second photo and froze. Anton Ward was the Red Devil.

  'You don't look too good,' Lula said. 'Are you okay? You look whiter than usual.'

  This is the devil guy.'

  Connie grabbed the file. 'Are you sure?'

  'It's been five days, but I'm pretty sure that's him.'

  'I didn't give him to you when I ran the neighborhood check because I couldn't find him,' Connie said. 'I didn't have time to go through the stacks of unfiled folders.'

  'Oops,' Lula said.

  Connie looked through the folder and read from the computer search. 'Anton Ward. Dropped out of high school when he was sixteen. No work history. Lives with his brother.' She flipped to the bond document. 'His bond was secured by someone named

  Francine Taylor. She put her house up as collateral. Vinnie has a note that the daughter, Lauralene, is very pregnant, very young, and expecting to marry Anton Ward.' Connie handed the file back to me. 'I hate to give this to you. Ordinarily this would go to

  Ranger.'

  'No problem,' I said. `I'm turning it over to the police.' Trenton

  PD didn't have the manpower to pursue every skip. This was fine by me because it meant my job was secure. Anton Ward would be different. He was involved in a cop shooting and a possible murder.

  Trenton PD would find the manpower to go after Anton Ward.

  I called Morelli and told him about Ward.

  'I don't want you anywhere near this guy,' Morelli said.

  I felt the muscles knot around my spine. Morelli's a cop. He's

  Italian, I told myself. He can't help himself. Cut him some slack.

  'Could you rephrase that?' I asked Morelli. 'I think what you meant was be careful.'

  `I said exactly what I meant. I don't want you anywhere near

  Anton Ward.'

  So here's the unfortunate truth. I called Morelli because I didn't want to go anywhere near Anton Ward. Problem is, when Morelli issues it as a demand my ears go flat against my head, my eyes narrow, and I take a stance with my head down, ready to lock horns. I don't know why I do this. I think it might have something to do with curly hair and being born in Jersey. And needless to say, this isn't the first time it's happened.

  'And I suppose it's okay for you to go after him?' I said to

  Morelli.

  `I'M a cop. We go after criminals. That's why you called me, right?'

  'And I'm a fugitive apprehension agent.'

  'Don't take this the wrong way,' Morelli said, 'but you're not a great apprehension agent.'

  'I get the job done.'

  'You're a magnet for disaster.'

  'Okay, hotshot,' I said. `I'll give you twenty-four hours to get him

  ... and then he's mine.'

  I put my phone back into my bag and looked over at Lula.

  'Guess you told him,' Lula said. 'If it was me I would have given him forever. To begin with, those people all live over in Slayerland.

  And if you want to think about something else, Anton hasn't got a lot to lose being that he just made Swiss cheese outta someone's head.'

  'I got carried away.'

  'No shit. And how are you expecting to find someone Morelli can't find? Morelli's good.'

  Morelli'd issued his ultimatum before I'd finished giving him all the information. 'Morelli doesn't know about Lauralene Taylor.

  And, as we all know, the girlfriend is always the ticket to the slap.'

  I'm hoping he don't need Lauralene on account of I don't want to have to follow your ass into Slayerland,' Lula said.

  I tucked the three new files into my bag. 'Lauralene doesn't live in Slayerland. She lives on Hancock Street.'

  'Hey, that's my neighborhood,' Lula said.

  Lula leaned over me and sniffed. 'Boy, that Ranger truck smell stays with you. You've been outa that truck for a whole day, and you still smell like Ranger.' She took a step back. There's something different about you. I can't put my finger on it.'

  'She's fat,' Connie said.

  Lula's face creased into a broad smile. 'That's it. Look at those chubby cheeks and that bootie. And you got love handles that go all the way around. You go, girl, you're on your way to being a big woman like Lula.'

  I looked down at myself. They were right! I had a roll of fat hanging over the waistband of my jeans. Where'd that come from?

  I was almost certain it wasn't there last night.

  I ran into the bathroom and examined my face in the mirror.

  Definite chubbiness. Apple cheeks. Two chins. Shit. It was the stress. Stress released a hormone that made you fat, right? I was pretty sure I read that somewhere. I checked out my jeans again.

  I'd had a stomachache all morning. Now I knew why. I popped the top snap and felt some relief as more fat oozed out.

  I went back to Lula and Connie. 'Its the stress,' I said. 'It's releasing hormones that are making me fat.'

  'Good thing I brought doughnuts with me,' Lula said. 'Have one of the chocolate-covered cream-filled and you'll feel better. Don't want to let that stress grab hold of you.'

  Connie let me out the back door and locked up after me. We'd filed the remaining folders and eaten all the doughnuts. Connie was going to a baby shower at the firehouse this afternoon. Lula had a hair appointment. I was going to spend the day being careful.

  I slipped out of the alley, wearing the hooded sweatshirt with the hood up, and I did a fast scan of the side street. No gang guys in baggy pants and do-rags waiting to gun me down. Good deal.

  I cruised into the Burg, and I parked one street over from my parents' house. I walked head down around the block, cut through the Krezwickis' yard, and hopped the fence into my parents' backyard.

  My mother shrieked when she saw me at the back door. 'Holy mother,' she said, hand over her heart. 'I didn't recognize you at first. What are you doing with the hood up on that sweatshirt? You look like a maniac.'

  'I was chilly.'

  She put her hand to my forehead. 'Are you coming down with something? There's a lot of flu going around.'

  `I'm fine.' I removed the sweatshirt and hung it over the back of a kitchen chair. 'Where is everybody?'

  'Your father's running errands. And Valerie took the girls shopping. Why?'

  'Just making conversation.'

  1 thought maybe you were going to make a big announcement.'

  'What would I announce?'

  'It's getting obvious,' my mother said.

  'Okay, so I've moved out of Morelli's house. It's not like it's the end of the world. We haven't even totally broken up this time.

  We're still tal
king to each other.'

  'You moved out? But aren't you pregnant?'

  I was stunned. Pregnant? Me? I looked down at my belly. Yikes.