Eleven on Top (Stephanie Plum 11)

“What do you mean, put me away?”

“I want you to be freshly killed after Spiro is seen driving the car. So I'm going to have to put you on ice for a couple hours.”

I cut my eyes to the casket. I really didn't want to go back in the casket. “No,” Con said. “Not the casket. I need to get that back to the mortuary. It was just an easy way to transport you.” He was looking around. “I need to find something that will keep you out of sight. Something I can lock.”

“Ranger will find me,” I told him.

“Is that the Rambo bounty hunter? Not a chance. No one's going to find you until I point him in the right direction.”

He turned and looked at me with his pale, pale eyes, I saw his hand move, I heard something sizzle in my head, and everything was black.

My mouth was dry and my fingertips were tingling. The jerk had zapped me again and stuffed me into something. I was on my back, and I was curled up fetus style. No light. No room to stretch my legs. My arms were pinned under me and the cuffs were cutting into my wrists. No satin lining this time. I was pretty sure I was crammed into some sort of wooden box. I tried rocking side to side. No room to get any momentum and nothing gave. This wasn't as terrifying as being locked in the casket, but it was much more uncomfortable. I was taking shallow breaths against the pain in my back and arms, playing games to occupy my mind, imagining that I was a bird and could fly, that I was a fire-breathing dragon, that I could play the cello in spite of the fact that I wasn't sure what a cello sounded like.

And suddenly there was a very slim, faint sliver of light in my box. I went still and listened with every molecule in my body. Someone had turned a light on. Or maybe it was daylight. Or maybe I was going to heaven. There were muffled sounds and men's voices, and there was a lot of door banging. I opened my mouth to yell for help, but the box opened before I had the chance. I tumbled out, and fell into Rangers arms.

He was as stunned as I was. He had a vise-like grip on my arms, holding me up. His eyes were dilated black, and the line of his mouth was tight. “I saw you folded up in there, and I thought you were dead,” he said.

“I'm okay. Just cramped.”

I'd been stuffed into one of the empty over-the-counter cabinets. How Con had gotten me up there was a mystery. I guess when you're motivated you find strength.

Ranger had come in with Tank and Hal. Tank was at my back with a handcuff key, and Hal was working on the shackles.

“It's not Spiro,” I said. “It's Con, and he's coming back to kill me. If we hang round we can catch him.”

Ranger raised my bruised and bloody wrist to his mouth and kissed it. “I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but there's no we. I've just had six really bad hours looking for you. I need to know you're safe. Sitting in this house waiting for a homicidal undertaker doesn't feel safe.” And he clamped the handcuff back on my wrist. “You've had enough fun for one day,” he said. And the other bracelet went on Tank's wrist.

“What the ...” Tank said, caught by surprise.

“Take her back to the office and have Ella tend to her wrists and then take her to Morelli,” Ranger told Tank.

I dug my heels in. “No way!”

Ranger looked at Tank. “I don't care how you do it. Pick her up. Drag her. Whatever. Just get her out of here and keep her safe. And I don't want those bracelets to come off either of you until you hand her over to Morelli.”

I glared at Tank. “I'm staying.”

Tank looked back at Ranger. Obviously trying to decide which of us was more, to be feared.

Ranger locked eyes with me. “Please,” he said.

Tank and Hal were goggle-eyed. They weren't used to “please.” I wasn't used to it either. But I liked it.

“Okay,” I said. “Be careful. He's insane.”

Hal drove, and Tank and I sat in back in the Explorer. Tank was looking uncomfortable with me as an attachment, looking like he was searching for something to say but couldn't for the life of him come up with anything. I finally decided to come to his rescue.

“How did you find me?” I asked him.

“It was Ranger.”

That was it. Three words. I knew he could talk. I saw him talking to Ranger all the time.

Hal jumped in from the front seat. “It was great. Ranger dragged some old lady out of bed to open the records office and hunt down real estate. He brought her in at gunpoint.”

“Omigod.”

“Boy, he was intense,” Hal said. "He had every Range-man employee and twenty contract workers out looking for you. We knew you disappeared at Stiva's because I was monitoring your bike. Tank and me started looking for you