Plum 10 - Ten Big Ones

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Plum 10 - Ten Big Ones Page 22

by Janet Evanovich


  "I was going to revoke his bond and put him back in jail."

  "And the reason for this?"

  "He agreed to wear a PTU and then refused when we got him released, escaping out the bonds office bathroom window before we could install the unit."

  "I'll have Tank take care of it. We'll hold him over until tomorrow morning, so we can get the paperwork straight. Did you bring him in blindfolded?"

  "He was wrapped in a blanket. It was dark and I doubt he saw much."

  * * *

  It took forty minutes to get back to Trenton and neither of us spoke. Normal for Ranger. Not normal for me. I had a lot of thoughts in my head, but almost none of them were thoughts I wanted to say out loud. Ranger parked the car, and we got out together. When we got in the elevator, he touched the number four button.

  "What's on the fourth floor?" I asked.

  "Studio apartments that are available to RangeMan employees. I moved one of the men out so you could have your own place until it's safe for you to leave." The doors opened to the fourth floor and Ranger wrapped my hand around a key. "Don't expect me to always be this civilized."

  "I'm undone. I don't know what to say."

  Ranger took the key back, crossed the hall, and opened the door to 4B. He flipped the light on, gave me the key, and shoved me inside.

  "Lock the door before I change my mind," he said. "Hit seven if you need me."

  I closed and locked the door and looked around. Kitchenette against one wall. Queen-size bed in an alcove. Writing desk and chair. Comfy-looking leather couch. Coffee table and television. All done in earth tones. Clean and tasteful. The bed was made with fresh sheets. The bathroom had clean towels and a basket of toiletries.

  My clothes were freshly washed and folded in a wicker basket at the edge of the sleeping alcove.

  I took a shower and got dressed in a clean T-shirt and boxer shorts. The boxers weren't black and silky and sexy like Ranger's. They were soft cotton. Pink with little yellow daisies. Seemed just right for spending an evening alone, pretending life was safe and happy.

  It was a couple minutes after ten, so I called Morelli at home. No answer. Painful contraction around my heart, resulting from irrational stab of jealous insecurity. If I was having a hard time keeping my hands off Ranger, Morelli could be having a similar problem. Women followed him down the street and committed crimes, hoping to meet him. Morelli wouldn't have a problem finding a sympathetic body to sleep beside.

  Morelli with another woman wasn't an appealing thought, so I sunk into the couch and did some channel surfing, looking for a diversion. I settled on a West Coast ball game. I watched for ten minutes but couldn't get involved. I channel-surfed some more. I looked up at the ceiling. Ranger was three floors above me. It was more comfortable to think about Ranger than to think about Morelli. Thinking about Ranger got me overheated and frustrated. Thinking about Morelli got me sad.

  I shut the television off, crawled into bed, and ordered myself to go to sleep. A half hour later I was still awake. The little room felt sterile. It was safe, but it gave no comfort. The pillow didn't smell like Ranger. And Anton Ward's words kept cycling through my brain. A tear slid out of my eye. Jeez. What was the deal with the tears! It wasn't even that time of the month. Maybe it was my diet. Not enough Tastykakes. Too many vegetables.

  I got out of bed, grabbed all my keys, and took the elevator to the seventh floor. I marched across the foyer and rang Ranger's bell. I was ready to ring it a second time when he opened the door. He was still dressed in the black T-shirt and cargo pants. I was thankful for this. I thought I could manage to keep from ripping the cargo pants off him. I wasn't sure about the black silk boxers.

  "It's lonely on the fourth floor," I said. "And your sheets are nicer than mine."

  "Ordinarily I'd take that as a sexual invitation, but after this morning I'm going to guess you just want my sheets."

  "Actually, I was hoping I could sleep on your couch."

  Ranger pulled me into his apartment and locked the door. "You can sleep anywhere you want, but I'm not going to be responsible for my actions if you fondle me again when I'm sleeping."

  "I didn't fondle you!"

  * * *

  We were at the breakfast table, and Ranger was watching me eat a croissant.

  "Tell me the truth," Ranger said. "Were you really freaked out last night? Or did you just want my sheets and my shower gel and my food?"

  I smiled at him while I chewed. "Does it matter?"

  Ranger thought about it for a long moment. "Only minimally."

  I'd slept on his couch, wrapped in a down comforter, my head on one of his pillows with the wonderful smooth pillowcase. It wasn't as comfy as his bed, but it had been guilt-free.

  "I got some bad news while you were in the shower this morning," Ranger said. "Junkman tagged his cop."

  My heart stuttered. "Anyone I know?"

  "No. He was a member of the State Police Street Gang Unit. He was working locally, but he was based out of north Jersey."

  I was next up.

  "Junkman will get taken out," Ranger said. "There are a lot of people looking for him. In the meantime, I want you to stay in the building. If I don't have to worry about you, I can have two extra men on the street tracking Junkman."

  Fine by me. I wasn't anxious to be part of Junkman's coronation ceremony. And staying in Ranger's apartment wasn't a hardship.

  I poured more coffee into my mug. "You have a lot of overhead here. How can you afford to have men following me around and looking for Junkman?"

  "Junkman just killed a state cop. There's a big enough reward for Junkman to justify assigning some manpower to search for him. There's no monetary way to justify a security detail to watch over you. I bleed money every time you need protection."

  I didn't know how to respond. I'd never really thought about Ranger as a businessman. He'd always seemed more like a superhero, recruiting men and cars from a parallel galaxy. Or at the very least, from the mob.

  "Jeez," I said. "I'm sorry."

  Ranger finished his coffee and stood. "I said there was no monetary way to justify your security. The truth is, you're a line item in my budget."

  I followed him into the bedroom and watched while he got his gun, checked it out, and attached it to his belt.

  "I have you listed under entertainment," Ranger said, sliding money and credit cards into his pants pocket. "This is a high-stress business, and you're comedy relief for my entire team. Plus, I get a tax break."

  My eyes opened wide and my eyebrows shot up an inch into my forehead. This didn't sound flattering. "Comedy relief?"

  Ranger gave me one of his rare full-on smiles. "I like you. We all like you." He grabbed me by the front of my shirt, lifted me two inches off the ground, and kissed me. "The truth is, I love you . . . in my own way." He set me back down and turned to go. "Have a nice day. And remember, you're on camera the instant you leave this apartment. I've given orders to stun-gun you if you try to leave the building."

  And Ranger was gone.

  I was totally flummoxed. I had no idea when Ranger was serious and when he was kidding. There was no doubt in my mind that I amused him. In the past, the amusement always felt affectionate, never malicious. Being a line item under entertainment was pushing it. And what the heck was I supposed to think about the I love you that was qualified by in my own way? I was supposed to think it was nice, I decided. I loved him in my own way, too.

  The front bell chimed, and I opened the door to Ella. She had the basket of clean clothes I'd left in the fourth-floor room.

  "Ranger asked me to bring these up to you," Ella said. "And your phone is in the basket, too. It was on the night table." She collected the breakfast tray and turned to leave. "When would be a good time for me to come in to clean?" she asked.

  "Whenever it's convenient for you."

  "I can tidy up right now," she said. "I won't be long. There isn't much to do today."

  Not counting my mother, no o
ne had ever cleaned or cooked for me. I wasn't in the income bracket to have a housekeeper. I didn't know anyone, other than Ranger, who had help. It was a luxury I'd always wanted, but it was uncharted territory for me right now, and it felt weird. It was one thing for Ella to come in and make Ranger's life easier while he was out catching desperadoes. It was totally different to have her cleaning up my mess while I sat around watching television.

  FIFTEEN

  I solved the Ella problem by helping her make the bed and straighten the apartment. She wouldn't allow me to touch the laundry, not wanting to be held responsible should I mix Ranger's blacks with his whites. Although, from what I could see, he didn't have any whites, other than sheets. We'd moved from the bedroom to the bathroom. Ella was setting out fresh towels, and I was smelling the soap.

  "I love this soap," I said.

  "My sister works on the cosmetic floor of a department store, and she gave me a sample of the Bulgari. It's very expensive, but it suits Ranger. Not that Ranger would notice. All he thinks about is work. Such a nice handsome young man and no girlfriend. Until you."

  "I'm not exactly a girlfriend."

  Ella stood straight and did a sharp inhale, focusing her snapping bird eyes on me. "He isn't paying you, is he? Like the way Richard Gere was paying Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?"

  "No. Ranger and I work together. I'm a bounty hunter."

  "Maybe you'll become a girlfriend," she said hopefully.

  "Maybe." But doubtful. In this case, I didn't think love and sex equated to boyfriend. "Do you take care of all his properties?" I asked Ella.

  "Just this building. I take care of the apartments on the fourth floor and Ranger. My husband, Louis, takes care of everything else."

  Rats. I was hoping to get a lead on the Bat Cave.

  Ella gathered the day's laundry and turned to go. "Would you like me to bring lunch?" she asked. "Ranger is never at home for lunch, but I'd be happy to make you a sandwich and a nice salad."

  "Not necessary," I said. "I have some sandwich things here. But thank you for offering."

  I let Ella out and my cell phone rang.

  "Everybody's been trying to get you," Grandma said. "You haven't been answering your phone."

  "I misplaced it."

  "Your sister's driving us nuts. Ever since that fitting she's been impossible. I swear, I never saw anybody with such wedding jitters. I don't want to think what's going to happen if Valerie backs out. Your mother's hitting the sauce, as is. Not that I blame her. I take a nip now and then, too, what with all the googie bear and oogiewoogie snuggy sweetie stuff. Anyway, I just called to see if you wanted to go to the shower with Sally and me. Your mothers bringing Valerie."

  "Thanks," I said, "but I'll get myself to the shower." Silent groan. The shower was Friday, and I didn't have a present. If Junkman was going to kill me, let it be today, I thought. At least I'd get out of the shower.

  I disconnected and dialed Morelli.

  "What?" he answered. Not happy.

  "It's me," I said. "Have you been trying to call me?"

  "Yeah. I worked a double shift yesterday, running down leads on Junkman. It was after eleven before I got home and checked my phone. Next time leave a message, so I know you're okay. Seeing your number pop up on my caller ID and then not being able to reach you doesn't do a lot for my acid reflux."

  "Sorry. I wasn't calling for anything special. And then I misplaced my phone."

  "Junkman got his cop."

  "I just heard."

  "I'd feel better if I knew where you were."

  "No you wouldn't," I said. "But you'd worry less."

  "I can read between the lines on that one," Morelli said. "Be careful."

  No ranting and raving. No jealous accusations. Just an affectionate be careful.

  "You trust me," I said.

  "Yeah."

  "That's really rotten."

  "I know. Live with it."

  I could sense the smile. I was entertainment for Morelli, too.

  I disconnected and called Valerie.

  "What's going on?" I asked her. "Grandma says you're having a meltdown."

  "I saw myself in the gown, and I had a total panic attack. It wasn't just that I was fat, either. It was everything. All the fuss. I know it's my own fault. I wanted a wedding, but it's gotten really scary. And now I have to get through a shower! Seventy-eight women in the VFW hall. Good thing there isn't a gun in the house because I'd shoot myself."

  "The shower is supposed to be a secret."

  "I planned it! What was I thinking? And what if this marriage doesn't work out? I thought my first marriage was perfect. I was clueless!"

  "Albert's a nice guy. You're not going to find him in the coat closet with the baby-sitter. You'll have a nice comfortable life with Albert."

  And that couldn't be said for the two men in my life, I thought. They were volatile domineering alpha males. Life wouldn't be dull with either of them, but it also wouldn't be easy.

  "Maybe you should elope," I told Valerie. "Just go off and quietly get married and get on with your life."

  "I couldn't do that to Mom."

  "She might be relieved."

  Okay, I have to admit this was self-serving, because I really didn't want to wear the eggplant gown. Still, I thought it was decent advice.

  "I'll think about it," Valerie said.

  "Just don't tell anyone I gave you the idea."

  I hung up and went into the kitchen to say hello to Rex. I dropped a couple Frosted Flakes into his cage; he rushed out of his soup can, whiskers twitching, shoved the cereal into his cheek, and rushed back to the soup can.

  Okay, that was fun, but now what? What do people do all day when they have nothing to do?

  I flipped the television on and surfed through about forty channels, finding nothing. How could there be so little on so many channels?

  I called the office.

  "What's going on?" I asked Connie.

  "Ranger was in. He's looking for Junkman. He's got a lot of company. Every bounty hunter and every cop in the state is looking for Junkman. You heard about the latest killing?"

  "I heard."

  "Did you also hear about Pancek? He was shot in the head last night, at the corner of Comstock and Seventh. Somehow he drove four more blocks before he lost consciousness and crashed his car. He's at St. Francis. It looks like he's going to make it."

  "My fault," I said. "I chased him into Slayerland."

  "Wrong," Connie said. "You followed him to Slayer-land. Since you're not here, I'm assuming you're hiding?"

  "That's the plan, but it's getting old."

  "Yeah, you've been at it for what, three or four hours?"

  I got off the phone with Connie and shuffled into the bedroom to take a nap. I stood at the edge of the bed and couldn't bring myself to get in and wrinkle the perfectly ironed sheets. I looked to the bathroom. I'd already taken a shower. I went back to the kitchen and shook Rex's aquarium.

  "Get up, you stupid hamster," I said. "I'm bored."

  There was a slight rustling in the soup can as Rex hunkered in deeper.

  I could explore the building, but that would involve interaction with Ranger's men. I wasn't sure I was ready for that. Especially since they might be stun-gun ready should I make a break for freedom.

  I called Ranger on his cell phone.

  Ranger answered with a soft, "Yo."

  "Yo, yourself," I said. "I'm going nuts here. What am I supposed to do? There's nothing good on television. There are no books or magazines. No cross-stitch, needlepoint, knitting. And don't suggest I go to the gym. It's not going to happen."

  Ranger disconnected.

  I punched his number in again. "What was that?" I said. "You disconnected me!"

  "Babe," Ranger said.

  I did a sigh and hung up.

  * * *

  Ranger walked through the door a few minutes after six. He tossed his keys into the dish and did a cursory shuffle of the mail Ella had broug
ht up earlier. He looked up from the mail and locked eyes with me. "You're looking a little crazy, Babe."

  I was coming off five hours of television and two hours of hall pacing. "I'm leaving now," I said. "I'm going to the mall, and I just waited around so I could say thank you. I appreciate the use of your apartment, and I'm going to miss the shower gel big-time, but I have to go. So it would be good if you made sure no one stun-gunned me."

  Ranger returned the letters to the silver tray. "No."

  "No?"

  "Junkman is still out there."

  "Have you made any progress?"

  "We have a name," Ranger said. "Norman Carver."

  "Norman's not going to be at the mall. And excuse me, you're blocking the door."

  "Give it a rest," Ranger said.

  "Give it a rest, yourself," I said, giving him a shot to the shoulder. "Get out of my way."

  All day long the car keys had been sitting in the dish. And truth is, I didn't actually believe Ranger told his guys to stun-gun me. I'd stayed in the apartment because I didn't want to die. And I still didn't want to die, but I was resenting the passive role I was forced to play. I was antsy, and I was unhappy. I wanted my life to be different. I wanted to be Ranger. He was good at being a tough guy. I was crappy at it. I was also finding it ironic that I'd walked out on Morelli only to find myself in the same position with Ranger.

  I gave Ranger another shove, and he shoved back, pinning me to the wall with his body.

  "I've had a long, unsatisfying day," Ranger said. "I'm low on patience. Don't push me."

  He was effortlessly leaning into me, holding me there with his weight, and I was immobilized. Not only was I immobilized, I was starting to get turned on.

  "This really pisses me off," I said.

  He'd been out all day, and he still smelled wonderful. His warmth was oozing into me, his cheek was resting against the side of my head, his hands were flat against the wall, framing my shoulders. Without thinking, I snuggled into him and brushed my lips across his neck in a light kiss.

  "No fair," he said.

 

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