Twelve Sharp

by Janet Evanovich

  'What's going on?' Caroline said. 'You two aren't thinking about trying anything funny, are you?'

  Lula reached in her bag to get her gun but Caroline was faster. Caroline hauled the shotgun out from under the counter and pointed it at Lula's head.

  'You better be reaching in that bag to get your credit card,' Caroline said.

  'That's just what I'm doing,' Lula said. 'You sure are an untrusting person.'

  'I'm thinking you both want to buy one of these Lady Workhorse cordless personal massagers. And I'm even going to throw in extra oil,' Caroline said.

  I glared at Lula and forked over my credit card.

  'Its not so bad,' Lula said when we were in the Mini. 'It's not like you got something useless. You'll get years of satisfaction out of this machine. Just don't go for thirds on account of apparently that's what freezes up the motor.'

  I dropped Lula back at the office and sat at the curb for a while. I wanted Scrog to find me. I wanted to make contact and be done with it. I wanted the nightmare to be over for Julie and Ranger and everyone involved. After a couple minutes I called Ranger.

  'Is anyone tailing me?'

  'Not that I can tell.'

  'Where are you?'

  'Across the street, half a block south.'

  'Now what?'

  'Now we go home and order take-out.'

  Fifteen minutes later, I opened the door to my apartment and Ranger followed me in.

  'This is frustrating,' I said.

  'He's out there, waiting for the right time to make his move. Probably he's enjoying the foreplay. We need to be patient. The police are scrambling, looking for him to be recognized. We're working from a different direction. We're playing the game with him.'

  I tossed my purse and the Pleasure Treasures bag on the kitchen counter and rooted through the drawer where I kept all the take-out menus.

  'What do you feel like?' I asked Ranger. 'Chinese, Italian, pizza, fried chicken?'

  Ranger shuffled through the menus. 'Chinese. I'll have brown rice, steamed vegetables, and lemon chicken.'

  And this is the problem with Ranger. I could spend a lot of time in bed with him, but he'd drive me nuts in the kitchen. I called the order in, adding Kung Pao chicken, fried rice, fried dumplings, and a piece of their Great Wall of Chocolate cake.

  'When was the last time you talked to Morelli?' Ranger wanted to know.

  'When I came home to change clothes.'

  'You should check in with him. See if anything new is going on. Let him know you're working tonight.'

  I slouched against the counter. 'I hate lying to Morelli.'

  'You're not lying,' Ranger said. 'You're omitting some information. And if it makes you feel better, I'll make sure you work tonight.'

  I did an eye roll and dialed Morelli.

  'What?' Morelli said.

  'I was just checking in.'

  'Sorry, I'm still at work. Some big bad gangsta just took about fifty rounds in front of the B&B Car Wash and set a new world record for leaking out body fluids. They're not going to have to embalm this guy.'

  'Anything new on Julie Martine or Carmen?'

  'Nothing. We're waiting on DNA from Carmen. I'd like to spend some time talking to you, but I have to go. I'll be doing paperwork on this until tomorrow morning. Miss you. Be careful.' And Morelli disconnected.

  'Some guy got ventilated in front of the B&B Car Wash,' I told Ranger. 'Morelli's working it.'

  'Morelli's a good man with a sucky job,' Ranger said.

  We were still in the kitchen and Ranger glanced over at the Pleasure Treasures bag. 'You must really like that store. You keep going back.'

  'I don't want to talk about it.'

  He looked in the bag and smiled. 'Lady Workhorse?' Ranger read the hype on the box. 'Hours of pleasure guaranteed.'

  'You're going to torture me with this, aren't you?' I said.

  Ranger took the gadget out of the box. 'I think we should take it for a test drive.' He turned it on, and it hummed in his hand. 'Feels good,' he said. 'Gentle action.'

  'You're an expert?'

  'No,' he said, shutting it off, setting it on the counter. 'I'm not really a gadget man.' He took the bottle of oil out of the bag. 'This holds more interest for me. Let's see what this does.' He opened the bottle, poured a drop into the palm of my hand and rubbed it with his fingertip. 'What do you think?'

  'It's warm!'

  'It says on the bottle it tastes like cherries.'

  He touched his tongue to my oiled palm, and I felt myself go damp, and I worried my knees might buckle.

  'W-w-well?' I asked.

  'Cherries.'

  The doorbell rang, and I sucked in some air.

  'Are you expecting anyone?' Ranger asked.

  'The food.'

  'This fast?'

  'They're just around the corner on Hamilton.'

  Ranger capped the oil and got the door. And we carted the food into the living room to eat in front of the television.

  'Scrog has been in Jersey for five days,' I said. 'He has to be staying somewhere. He has to be buying food. Why aren't we turning anything up? Where's he getting his money from?'

  'You don't need money if you have a credit card. And he knows how to scam credit cards.'

  I speared a dumpling. 'I'm not good at waiting.'

  'I've noticed.'

  Stephanie Plum 12 - Twelve Sharp

  Twelve

  I woke up wrapped in Ranger's arms, our legs entwined, my face snuggled into his neck. He smelled nice, and he felt even better… warm and friendly. I enjoyed it for a moment before reality took hold.

  'This is a little déjà vu,' I said to him. 'Didn't you start the night out on the couch?'

  'No. I was on the computer when you went to bed. You were already asleep by the time I was done.'

  'So you climbed in next to me? I thought when you moved in you'd be sleeping on the couch.'

  'You thought wrong.'

  'You can't sleep in my bed. It just isn't done. I have a boyfriend. He's a nice guy, but he's not good with sharing.'

  'Babe, we're sharing a bed, not a sexual experience. I can control myself if you can.'

  'Oh great.'

  Ranger's face creased into a smile. 'You can't control yourself?'

  I bit into my lower lip.

  'Stephanie,' he said. 'You shouldn't tell me things like that. I'll take advantage.'

  I blew out a sigh and rolled away from him. 'No you won't. You're Ranger. You're the guy who protects me.'

  'Yes, but not from myself!'

  I kicked the covers off and slid out of bed. I needed to find Edward Scrog. I needed to find him now! I couldn't manage another morning of waking up next to Ranger.

  I took a shower and called Morelli.

  'What's going on?' I said.

  'I don't know,' Morelli said, sounding half asleep. 'Give me a hint?'

  'With Carmen. With Julie Martine. Why hasn't someone found Julie Martine yet? What the heck are you guys doing? I don't understand what's taking so long.'

  'What time is it?' Morelli wanted to know. I heard some fumbling and then swearing. 'It's seven-fucking-thirty,' Morelli said. 'It was after two when I got to bed.'

  'Did I wake you?'

  'Mmm.'

  'Sorry. You always get up so early.'

  'Not today. Talk to you later.' And he hung up.

  I stomped out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where Ranger was making coffee. 'I'm going out,' I said.

  'Where are you going?'

  'I'm going out for muffins.'

  'Give me five minutes to get my shoes on.'

  'I don't have five minutes,' I said. 'I have things to do. I've got the panic button. I'll be fine. I'll bring a muffin back for you. What do you want, zucchini, no fat, no sugar, extra bran?'

  I turned to go and Ranger scooped me up and carried me into the bedroom and tossed me onto the bed. 'Five minutes,' he said, lacing his shoes.

  I lay there spread-eagle, w
aiting for him. 'Very macho,' I said.

  He grabbed my hand and yanked me to my feet. 'Sometimes you try my patience.'

  'You don't like it? You can leave.'

  He slammed me into the wall and kissed me. 'I didn't say I didn't like it.'

  'Okay, good to get that straightened out,' I said. 'Are we going to get muffins, or what?'

  He walked to the lot with me, stuffed me into the passenger seat on the Mini and got behind the wheel.

  'I thought you were supposed to be secretly following me. I thought I was supposed to be luring Scrog into action.'

  'This morning we're both luring him into action. Where do you want to go for muffins?'

  'Tasty Pastry. And then Italian Bakery. And then Prizolli's. And then Cluck-in-a-Bucket for a breakfast muffin. And then the convenience store on Hamilton for a paper.'

  'Trying to get yourself kidnapped?'

  'Do you have a better idea?'

  Ranger drove out of the lot and headed for Hamilton. 'Nice to know you're going proactive.'

  By the time we got to the convenience store we had the Mini filled with muffin bags. 'Get coffee and a couple papers,' Ranger said. 'We'll have a picnic.'

  Ten minutes later, we were on a bench in front of a used bookstore on Hamilton, next to the bonds office. The only way we'd have higher visibility would be to stand in the middle of the road.

  'Anybody following us?' I asked Ranger.

  'Three cars. Tank in the green SUV, a grey Taurus, and a mini-van.'

  'Aren't you afraid you'll get arrested?'

  'I'm more afraid I'll get shot by some good Samaritan citizen who saw my picture on America's Most Wanted.' He took a coffee and called Tank. 'Do you have a fix on the Taurus and minivan?'

  I chose a carrot cake muffin and waited through a couple beats of silence while Ranger took in the information.

  'Amateur bounty hunters,' Ranger finally said to me. 'Disable them,' Ranger said to Tank. 'I don't want Stephanie dragging that clutter around with her.' He disconnected, and we sat there for a half hour eating our muffins, drinking our coffee and reading the paper. We were ready to leave for greener pastures when Morelli drove by, came to a screeching halt, and pulled to the curb. He got out of his SUV and walked over to us.

  'You want to explain this to me?'

  I told him about Edward Scrog and the scrapbook and the computer blogs.

  'So you're sitting here trying to provoke him into making a move?'

  'Yep.'

  'This is a dangerous stupid idea. He shot his wife and there's no reason to think he won't shoot you.'

  'Yeah,' I said. 'But I don't think he'll shoot me right away.'

  'That makes me feel a lot better,' Morelli said. 'I'll tell that to my acid reflux.'

  'I'll be fine. I swear!' I told him.

  Morelli made a disgusted hand gesture. 'I didn't see this,' Morelli said. 'But I want to be kept appraised of the evidence you gather. And if you overstep boundaries with Stephanie and move in on me,' he said, turning to Ranger, 'I'll find you, and it won't be good.'

  Morelli took a blueberry muffin out of a bag, jogged back to his car, and took off.

  Ranger smiled at me. 'Just so you know, that's not going to stop me from trying to move in on him.'

  'You and Morelli have an entirely different agenda. Morelli wants to marry me, and you want to…'

  I stopped because I wasn't sure what word I wanted to insert. Not that any word was necessary. We both knew what Ranger wanted.

  'Babe,' Ranger said. 'What I want to do to you is no secret. And I want to do it bad. But I can think with two body parts simultaneously, and I'm not going to do anything stupid.'

  'That includes marriage?'

  'Marriage, pregnancy, and anything nonconsensual.' He ran a finger under the strap on my tank top. 'I will make a move with partial consent.'

  Ranger collected the bags and empty coffee cups and newspapers. He let himself into the bonds office, shut down the alarm, and dumped the trash into Connie's wastebasket. He reset the alarm, exited the office, and locked the door.

  'I need to go back to your apartment,' he said. 'I have work to do this morning. Tank will stay with you, and I'll join him later in the day in a separate car. Try to move around and be visible. Remember to always wear your panic button.'

  Ranger pulled me to him and kissed me before we got into the Mini.

  'Just in case Scrog is watching I don't want to miss an opportunity to piss him off,' Ranger said.

  Connie, Lula, and Melvin Pickle were in the office when I returned.

  'Meri Maisonet is scheduled to start this morning,' Connie said. 'I'm going to have her run some of the simple search programs. If you have phone work or background checks, just put your file in the queue.'

  I dropped Charles Chin, Lonnie Johnson, and Dooby Biagi onto the Maisonet 'to-do' stack, writing a brief note for each. For Chin and Biagi I asked for work and residence histories, followed by phone verification of the most current. For Johnson, I simply said 'Find him.' Johnson's file was already thick with information. I didn't expect Maisonet to find him, but sometimes a new set of eyes saw things previously missed.

  I paged through the remaining files and looked for jobs that didn't require the help of a partner. Edward Scrog would be more likely to approach me if I was alone.

  I put Bernard Brown at the top of the list. He was low bond and low risk. His danger quotient was close to zero. Bernard had gotten drunk off his ass at Marilyn Gorley's wedding and in a display of ill-timed homage had set fire to a floor-to-ceiling drapery while holding his lighter aloft during a John Lennon song. The result was approximately $80,000 in damages to the banquet room of Littuchy's Restaurante. Probably no criminal charges would have been pressed but Bernard had panicked and punched out the maitre d' when the man had attempted to extinguish Bernard's flaming hair with a bottle of beer.

  Bernard was a self-employed accountant working out of his house. Should be an easy catch.

  'I'm going to help Bernard Brown get reregistered for court,' I said to Lula. 'It's not a two-man job. Maybe you want to stay here and help Meri get started. Tell her about being a BEA.'

  'Sure, I could do that. I got a lot of things I could tell her.'

  I avoided looking at Connie and whisked myself out of the office before I got stuck with Lula. I was on the sidewalk when I got a call from Morelli.

  'I thought you should know we just towed an abandoned rental. It was rented at Newark Airport on Thursday around eight p.m. The name on the rental agreement was Carmen Manoso. That's why it bounced back to me. Not sure how it slipped through the FBI search. Maybe no one thought to look for something registered to Carmen. Anyway, I've got the car impounded and we're going through it. It looks like blood on the back seat. No way of knowing whose blood it is right now.'

  'Is it a lot of blood?'

  'Doesn't look like someone died there if that's what you're asking. The bad news is there was also a scrunchie on the floor of the back seat. You know, one of those things the kids use to tie up a ponytail. We photographed it and emailed it to Rachel Martine, and it's tentatively been identified as belonging to Julie Martine.'

  'Where did you find the car?'

  'It was by the train station.'

  I called Ranger and gave him the news. Then I got into the Mini and drove to Hamilton. I was following Ranger's advice. Keep moving forward. Try not to think about the blood in the car.

  Bernard Brown lived in a neighborhood that was adjacent to the Burg, just past St Francis Hospital. I drove down his street, checking off house numbers, parking when I reached his duplex.

  Brown was forty-three years old and divorced. His house was neat but showing wear. A small sign next to Bernards front door read BERNARD BROWN, CPA.

  I rang his bell and waited, resisting the urge to burst into tears or frantically look around for stalkers.

  Bernard answered the door in his pajamas and a knit cap. 'Yes?'

  I gave him my card and introd
uced myself.

  'I'll be a laughingstock if I go into court,' he said. 'I know people. I do taxes for half the cops. I'll have to take my hat off, and I'll never live it down.'