Twelve Sharp

  'What about dressing like a bounty hunter?'

  'This is in case something goes wrong and someone sees you. Everyone will be looking for the bounty hunter in black leather. And not that I don't trust you, but I have to make sure you're not wearing a wire. So take your clothes off. All of them.'

  'You're going to have to shoot me to get these clothes off, because the only way they're coming off is if I'm dead.'

  Scrog thought about it. 'You have to at least let me pat you down. Turn around and put your hands on this car.'

  'Just don't get too friendly,' I said, turning around.

  Scrog moved behind me. 'You're going to have to get over this modesty. We're together now.'

  There was a familiar sizzle, and it was lights out.

  It took me a while to get smart, but I finally put it together. I was in the trunk of a car. Been there, done that. It was pitch black. I had no idea of time. The car was moving, turning corners. My hands were handcuffed behind my back. I was pretty sure I'd been stun-gunned again. I hoped I wasn't naked. I felt around with my hands and was relieved to feel clothes. Unfortunately they weren't the clothes I remembered wearing. Scrog had undressed me while I was unconscious. How icky is that?

  The car stopped. The engine cut out. A car door slammed shut. And then the trunk opened, and I saw Scrog again. Still in drag in the brown wig.

  'Feeling better?' he asked.

  'No, I'm not feeling better. I'm feeling pissed off that you keep stun-gunning me.'

  'That's the reward for bad behavior. You have to learn to obey me.'

  He hauled me out of the trunk, and I saw that we were in a wooded area. I could hear cars in the distance, but I couldn't see lights. The road was dirt. A motor home was parked in front of us. It wasn't one of the motor homes reported stolen. It was old and partially rusted out around the rear wheels.

  'Home sweet home,' Scrog said.

  'Where are we?'

  'We're home. That's all you need to know. Get in.'

  I was wearing a white T-shirt and lightweight grey sweatpants. 'Where are my clothes?'

  'In the tote bag. Except for the little gadget you had cleverly hidden in your… pants area. I thought it best to leave that behind.'

  I felt myself go cold and my heart stop dead in my chest for a moment. I was so cold I was chattering inside, and I thought, This is fear. Debilitating. Gut-clenching. Cold fear. Ranger had no way to find me.

  I climbed rickety steps and wrenched the door open. It was dark inside. No electricity. I toed my way into the sweltering-hot room and stopped when I ran into something that felt like a table.

  'Don't move,' Scrog said. 'I have a battery-powered light.'

  Stay calm, I told myself. At least this rattrap doesn't smell like death. Just keep thinking. Don't panic.

  He switched on what looked like a small electric lantern. The light was dim, and I thought this was a good thing. Best not to look too closely at the motor home. It seemed to be composed of two rooms. I was in the living room, dining room, kitchen area. Upholstery was filthy and torn. The floor had been patched with odd pieces of linoleum. Water stains ran down walls. The Formica tabletop and kitchen countertop were riddled with cigarette burns and knife scars. A lumpy soiled pillow and threadbare blanket had been left on the bench seat behind the table.

  'I figure once we get the business up and running we can get something nice, but for now this will have to do,' Scrog said. There was a closed door at the end of the kitchen area. It had to lead to a small bedroom and maybe bathroom of sorts. I was hoping Julie was okay behind the door.

  'Where's Julie?' I asked him. 'I'm anxious to see her.'

  'She's in the bedroom. You can go on in. The door isn't locked.'

  I called ahead. 'Julie? It's Stephanie. I'm coming in.'

  No one answered, so I pushed the door open and peered inside. Too dark to see anything.

  'Do you have another lantern?' I asked Scrog.

  'No,' he said. 'You can have this one. I have eyes like a cat. I don't need light.'

  He moved past me into the room and set the lantern on a small bedside built-in. Julie was huddled on the bed. Her brown hair was snarled and her eyes were huge. Her face was filthy and there were days-old tear tracks on her cheeks. I'd read a description of her when she was kidnapped, and it looked to me like she was wearing the same clothes. Maybe that was a good thing. At least he hadn't undressed her. Her feet were bare, and she was chained to the bed with an ankle shackle.

  She looked at me, and then she looked at Scrog. She didn't say anything.

  'It's late,' Scrog said. 'You girls must be tired. You need to go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day. Special things doing tomorrow.' He reached under the bed and pulled out another length of chain with a shackle attached. 'I'll just clamp this onto your ankle,' he said to me, 'and then I can unlock the handcuffs.'

  He reached for my ankle, and I kicked him in the head as hard as I could. I booted him back about three feet. He landed on his ass, and I went after him, catching him in the side with another kick. He managed to scoot away from me; he reached behind him, his hand moved toward me, and I got another jolt from the stun gun.

  Stephanie Plum 12 - Twelve Sharp

  Twenty-one

  When I came around I was on my back on the grungy floor in the bedroom. My shoes and socks had been removed, and the ankle shackle was locked in place. I waited for the noise to go away in my head and for everything to stop tingling before I tried to stand.

  Julie was sitting up in bed, watching me. 'Good one,' she said.

  That knocked me over. Good one. Julie Martine had grit. Maybe more than me at this point. I did a head roll and shrugged off the muscle cramps that come with taking a bunch of volts and crashing to the floor.

  'It was lame,' I told her. 'Your father would have finished him off.'

  'Do you mean Ranger? I don't know him real well.'

  'He's very special.'

  Julie lowered her voice. 'He's going to kill him. That's what he meant by tomorrow being a big day. Chuck says he can't be whole until Ranger is dead.'

  'Who's Chuck?'

  'That man. He wants me to call him Dad, but I won't do it. I call him Chuck. I don't think he even cares about you and me so much. I think it's Ranger he really wants.'

  I wasn't completely surprised. It had crossed my mind that eventually Scrog would feel the need to eliminate Ranger.

  'Chuck's crazy, isn't he?' Julie asked. 'He told me he's killed people. Like he was bragging about it. Has he really killed people?'

  'I think he might have.'

  That's so horrible,' Julie said.

  'Has he treated you okay?'

  'Yeah. I mean, I'm chained in here like an animal but he hasn't, you know, done anything to me. And my chain can reach to the bathroom.'

  The sound of snoring carried from the other room. Murder and kidnapping obviously didn't weigh on Scrog's conscience. No tossing and turning trying to sleep. No late-night pacing.

  So now what? Now you suck it up and look for a way out, I told myself. You do what Ranger told you to do. Focus on the goal. Push unproductive emotion away.

  I got down on my hands and knees and looked to see how the chains were fastened. 'The bed is bolted to the floor and the chains are padlocked around the steel frame,' I told Julie.

  'I know. I looked. I couldn't find a way to get free.'

  I took the lantern and prowled the bedroom, looking for something that might be helpful, not finding anything.

  'Tomorrow I'll look again when there's daylight,' I said to Julie.

  'There's no daylight,' she said. 'He's blacked out all the windows. Half the time I don't know if it's night or day.'

  'Rise and shine, ladies,' Scrog said, throwing a couple bags onto the bed. 'Breakfast is here.'

  I looked in one of the bags. Twinkies, Ring Dings, Hostess pies, tiny bags of salted nuts, little boxes of raisins, candy bars. More of the same in the second bag.

  'He robs conve
nience stores,' Julie said, selecting a box of raisins.

  'It's an easy hit if you get there when they're opening up,' Scrog said. 'Problem is, they never have a lot of money. I need more money.'

  'Where's the coffee?' I asked him.

  'There's no coffee.'

  'I can't get through the morning without coffee,' I told him. 'Do you have any idea how nuts I'm going to be without caffeine? I need coffee in the morning!'

  Julie made a big pretense of opening a package of peanuts, but I could see she was enjoying my show.

  'Jeez, don't go all PMS on me,' Scrog said. 'How was I supposed to know?'

  I narrowed my eyes at him. 'Are you going to get me coffee?'

  'No. I haven't got the time. I'm in the middle of something here. Boy, you think you're doing something nice for people and all you get is yelled at. I didn't have to rob that store, you know. I did it for you and the kid.'

  He went back to the living area, leaving the bedroom door open. I heard him raise a shade, and some light filtered in to the bedroom.

  'What are you doing out there?' I asked him.

  'I'm building a bomb.'

  Julie and I looked at each other, mouths open wide.

  'What kind of bomb?' I asked Scrog.

  'What do you mean? It's a bomb, for crissake. I got it off the Internet.'

  'You have a computer here?'

  'No. I went to the library. They have computers you can use.'

  'So, what are you going to do with the bomb?'

  'Shut up. I can't concentrate with you yammering. I'm almost done. I just have to connect a couple things. Eat a goddamn doughnut or something.'

  'I already ate a doughnut and now I'm thirsty.'

  'There's water in the bathroom. And anyway, we're going out, and you can get something to drink then.'

  'Where are we going?'

  'We're going to get money. I need more money.'

  Scrog came into the bedroom carrying a packet that was about four inches by four inches and maybe an inch thick and entirely wrapped in duct tape. 'I'm gonna toss this onto the bed real gentle, along with the tape, and you're gonna strap it onto yourself,' he said.

  'Is that the bomb?'

  'Yeah. It's supposed to be pretty stable,' he said. 'It's not supposed to go off unless I push the button.'

  'Not supposed to?'

  'Hey cut me some slack. This is my first bomb.'

  'I'm not strapping a bomb to myself,' I said.

  'Well great, then how about I shoot the kid in the foot?'

  'You wouldn't do that. You wouldn't shoot your kid.'

  'I would if I had to. I'd shoot her in the foot, so she wouldn't die, and maybe she'd walk with a limp, but she'd get over it. It's in everyone's best interest. I need more money, and I don't trust you to just go out with me yet.'

  'Why do you need all this money?' I asked him.

  'I got a plan. I figure now that we're together we'll escape to Australia. No one will find us there. And we can all be bounty hunters. All we have to do is lay low for a while and everybody will forget about us. Like, while we're laying low we can drive to California. Then we get on a plane and next thing, we're in Australia.'

  'Yeah, that's a good plan,' I said. 'What about passports?'

  'Passports?'

  'You can't move between countries without a passport.'

  'Are you sure? Even Australia?'

  'Duh-uh,' Julie whispered.

  'Shit. I didn't think about passports. Okay, we'll just change the plan a little. We'll go to Mexico. Hell, we could go to Mexico in a little boat. Just sneak in after dark. Or we could probably just walk across in Texas. It would be cheaper, too. I wouldn't have to risk robbing a bank. I could keep robbing these little stores. I've already got a couple hundred saved up.'

  'I know how we can get some money,' I told him. 'There's a high-risk bond that I just got a line on. If we could capture him my BEA fee would be around five thousand dollars. But there's a catch. If I get the money for you, you have to let us go.'

  Not for a single minute did I think Scrog would let us go. What I thought was that he'd use me to get the money and in the process feed his ego and fulfill his bounty hunter fantasy. I figured if he had his way, he'd come back to this piece-of-shit motor home, lure Ranger here, and then kill us all.

  I was just hoping to buy some time and get us out in the open where we might be seen. Ranger was in tracking mode, sniffing the bushes like Bob on a rampage. And if I was lucky enough to make the capture, I'd have a chance to pass information on. I'd have to walk my FTA into the police station.

  'Who is this guy?' Scrog wanted to know.

  'Lonnie Johnson. Wanted for armed robbery. He didn't show for his court appearance. Lula and I went after him but he disappeared from the face of the earth. Then yesterday he popped back into the area. I have a new address for him.'

  'And he'd be worth five thousand dollars?'

  'Yep.'

  'Maybe I should just ransom you for the money.'

  'Ransoming takes time. All that back-and-forth negotiating. And then the FBI gets involved. And you have to give directions for making the money drop. Anyway, I thought you wanted to be a bounty hunter.'

  'Is this address a sure thing?'

  'I don't know. We couldn't do a phone verification. He tried to get a line of credit, and he gave an address.'

  'Tell me how this is gonna get us the money again.'

  'We make the capture. I turn him over to the police. Connie gives me the money I've earned.'

  'I'm a little fuzzy on the part where we turn him over to the police. You don't think I'm going to let you walk into the police station, do you?'

  'That's usually the way it works.'

  'Boy, you must think I'm stupid. You'll go in there and blab everything.'

  'Okay, I have another idea. Lonnie Johnson shot a guy who was servicing an automatic teller, and Johnson walked away with $32,000 and change. I'm betting he's still got most of it. Suppose we rob Lonnie Johnson?'

  'You mean we like, take him down and force him to tell us where the money is?'

  'Yeah.'

  I knew in my heart that Lonnie Johnson pissed away every cent he stole. The fact that he was trying to get a loan to buy a car would seem to support my theory. No point bothering Scrog with this line of reasoning.

  'Okay, I guess I don't see any harm in trying,' Scrog said. 'You're going to have to strap the bomb on though and I swear if you do anything stupid I'll blow you to bits.'

  I got the bomb strapped on, and I looked over at him. 'Unlock the ankle bracelet. If we go out now, we might catch him at home.'

  Scrog stepped back. He had the little detonator in one hand, and he threw the key onto the bed with the other. I unlocked the shackle and skated the key back to him across the linoleum floor.

  'Now you have to get dressed in your bounty hunter clothes,' he said. 'If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right. We need to look like a couple bad asses.'

  'Sure,' I said, 'but you have to get dressed up too.'

  'Don't worry about me. I'll be dressed.'

  I went into the little bathroom and wriggled into the black leather pants. I took the T-shirt off and put the vest on and stepped out. 'What about the bomb?' I said. 'You can see I have a bomb strapped to my stomach.'

  Julie was on the bed behind me. 'That's not all you can see,' she said, giggling.

  Scrog had changed into black leather pants and a black T-shirt and was wearing a black leather Sam Brown belt armed with cuffs and stun gun and Glock. It was better than the ladies' dress, but he sure as hell was no Ranger. Ranger would crack a smile at the thought of someone impersonating him in leather pants.

  'Put the T-shirt on over the vest,' Scrog said. 'It's the best we can do right now.'

  I dropped the T-shirt over my head and walked ahead of Scrog, out of the motor home. I stood blinking in the bright sunlight, waiting for my eyes to adjust, trying not to get hysterical over the fact that I had a bomb str
apped to my stomach.

  'Jeez,' Scrog said. 'Now that you're out in the sun you look like the Bride of Frankenstein. Can't you do something with your hair?'

  'Maybe if you'd stop running electricity through me my hair would look better! Ever think of that? And what do you think, hair just happens? I need a roller brush. I need gel and hair spray and a hair dryer. Next time you rob something, make it a hair salon.'