Explosive Eighteen (Stephanie Plum 18)

“We have a friend on the sixth floor.”

Ranger wasn’t a man who showed much emotion, but I could swear I detected some steam curling off the roots of his hair. “Are you angry about something?” I asked him.

“Anger isn’t a productive emotion. Let’s just say I’m not happy.”

“Should I ask why?”

“I expect you already know. You’re caught up in the middle of something bad, and you’re not being careful. Get dressed and come out to the dining room. I have a show-and-tell for you.”

Oh boy. Ranger didn’t stay to watch me get dressed. He didn’t rip the towel off me. He didn’t get naked. I must really look bad. I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. EEK! This was worse than I thought. Huge black bruise developing and swelling under my right eye. Still small amount of blood seeping from my nose. Swollen lip with ugly cut and huge bruise. Then there was the rest of me, with assorted bruises and scrapes. Not exactly a sex goddess.

I pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and half dried my hair. I plastered the ice pack to my face and went out to see Ranger.

“Here’s your Smith and Wesson,” he said. “I took it out of the cookie jar. From what I can see, you haven’t any ammo. I took the stun gun out of your bag. It’s dead. Needs recharging. And it looks to me like you’re out of pepper spray and using hair spray.”

I adjusted the ice pack. “Hair spray works surprisingly well.”

“Don’t push it,” Ranger said. “I’m not in a good place.” He took a gun off the table and handed it to me. “This is a semiautomatic baby Glock. It’s smaller and lighter than the one I carry. It’s ready to go. Do you know how to use it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to load it?”

“Yes.”

“The only time I want to see the clip empty is immediately after you’ve dumped every round into a warm body.”

“Jeez,” I said.

“Humor me. Next up is the stun gun. This is larger than the one you’re currently carrying. It’ll drop a 1,500-pound cow. If you don’t keep it charged, it won’t drop anything.”

I nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Is that snark?” he asked.

“It might be.”

Ranger almost smiled.

“The truth is, I’m kind of proud of the way I’ve defended myself so far. I’m still alive, and I only cried once. And as bad as I look, I’m in a lot better shape than the other guy.”

“You work well with panic and rage,” Ranger said.

I looked down at the table. “What’s with the watch?”

“It works as a watch, but it’s also a tracking system. As long as it’s on your wrist, I can find you. There are three little buttons on the side. If you push the red button, we come get you.”

“What’s the blue button?”

“It sets the time.”

Duh.

I removed the watch I was wearing and strapped the new watch to my wrist. “It should have diamonds,” I said to Ranger.

“Maybe if you’re a very good girl.”

“How good would I have to be?” I asked him.