Hard Eight (Stephanie Plum 8)

Or it could be that none of them were being stalked by a maniac.

“I lost another pair of handcuffs,” I said to Lula. “I left them on Bender.”

Lula tipped her head back and burst out laughing. “And you want to change jobs,” she said. “Why would you want to do that when you're so good at this one?”

IT WAS ELEVEN o'clock and most houses on my parents' street were dark. The Burg was early to bed and early to rise.

“Sorry about Bender,” Lula said, letting the Trans Am idle at the curb. “Maybe we could tell Vinnie he died. We could say we were all set to bring Bender in, and he died. Bang. Dead as a doorknob.”

“Better yet, why don't we just go back and kill him,” I said. I opened the door to leave, caught my toe in the floor mat, and fell out of the car, face first. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the stars. “I'm fine,” I said to Lula. “Maybe I'll sleep here tonight.”

Ranger stepped into my line of sight, grabbed hold of my denim jacket, and pulled me to my feet. “Not a good idea, babe.” He looked over at Lula. “You can go now.”

The Trans Am laid rubber, and disappeared from view.

“I'm not drunk,” I said to Ranger. “I only had one margarita.”

His fingers were still curled into my jacket, but he softened his grip. “I understand you're having rabbit problems.”

“Fucking rabbit.”

Ranger grinned. “You are definitely drunk.”

“I'm not drunk. I'm on the verge of being happy.” I didn't exactly have the whirlies, but the world wasn't totally in focus, either. I leaned against Ranger for support. “What are you doing here?”

He released my jacket and wrapped his arms around me. “I needed to talk to you.”

“You could have called.”

“I tried calling. Your phone isn't working.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot. It was in the car when the car blew up.”

“I did some investigating on Dotty and came up with some names to check out.”

“Now?”

“Tomorrow. I'll pick you up at eight.”

“I can't get into the bathroom until nine.”

“Okay. I'll pick you up at nine-thirty.”

“Are you laughing? I can feel you laughing. My life isn't funny!”

“Babe, your life should be a prime-time sitcom.”

AT PRECISELY 9:30 I stumbled out the door and stood blinking in the sunlight. I'd managed a shower, and I was fully clothed, but that was where it ended. A half hour isn't a lot of time for a girl to get beautiful. Especially when the girl has a hangover. My hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and I had my lipstick in my jeans jacket pocket. When my hand stopped shaking, and my eyeballs stopped being burning globes, I'd try putting lipstick on.

Ranger rolled up in a shiny black Mercedes sedan and waited at the curb. Grandma was standing behind me on the other side of the door.

“I wouldn't mind seeing him naked,” she said.

I slid onto the cream-colored leather seat beside Ranger, closed my eyes, and smiled. The car smelled wonderful, like leather and fries. “God bless you,” I said. He had fries and a Coke waiting for me on the console.

"Tank and Lester are checking campgrounds in Pennsylvania and New Jersey. They're doing the closest ones first and then moving out. They're looking for either of the cars, and they're talking to people when possible. We have your list of Evelyn's relatives, but I think they're long shots. Evelyn would worry that they'd get in touch with Mabel. The same goes for Dotty's relatives.

“There were four women Dotty was friendly with at work. I have their names and addresses. I think we should start with them.”