Janet Evanovich - Twelve Sharp

'It's the best I could come up with.'

I punched Leon's number into my cell phone. 'I'd like to speak to Leon James,' I said to the guy who answered.

'Speaking.'

'I think I might need some help in solving a problem.'

'Un hunh.'

'You were recommended.'

'Oh yeah. Who recommended me?'

'Butchy.'

'I don't know any Butchy.'

'Well, he knows you. And he recommended you.'

'What sort of problem we talking about?'

'I don't want to say on the phone.'

'That sounds promising already,' James said.

'I was hoping we could meet somewhere. I need to solve this problem fast.'

'It'll cost you.'

'I don't care. Just solve my friggin' problem, okay?'

I'd agreed to meet Leon James in a small park in the Burg. The park wasn't much more than a patch of grass half a block in size. It had a couple trees and a couple benches and that was it. Once in a while an old guy would sit on a bench and soak up sun. And once in a while a couple kids would sit on a bench and smoke some weed. And once in a while someone would walk his dog in the park.

Lula and I had driven to Morelli's house and commandeered Bob. The plan was that I'd meet Leon James at the bench, and while we were talking, Lula would mosey by with Bob. Then when James was distracted, one of us would zap him with a stun gun.

I dropped Lula and Bob off on a side street, turned a corner, and parked not far from the bench. I walked to the bench and sat down with my purse in my lap. After five minutes a car pulled up behind Lula's Firebird, and James got out. He looked around, straightened his jacket, and walked toward me. It was eighty degrees out, and there was only one reason to be wearing a jacket.

James was five-foot-nine and stocky. The fact that he'd been caught numerous times for arson put him in the not-too-bright category. Arson is a respected profession among certain subcultures in Jersey, and the good ones don't get caught. The good ones channel lightning and mysterious acts of spontaneous combustion.

I fought stage fright as I watched James cut across the grass. My heart was racing, and I could feel panic sticking in my throat. Deep breath, I told myself. Be calm. Be cool.

'You looking for a problem solver?' James said, coming up to the bench.

'I might be.'

He sat down. 'What kind of problem you got?'

'A cheating husband.'

'And?'

'I'm told it would be cheaper to pay you to take care of the bastard than it would be to divorce him and lose half of everything.'

'Works for me.'

James was turned toward me, and I could see Lula and Bob coming up behind him. Bob was straining at the leash, wanting to run, but with Lula at the other end it was like pulling a refrigerator.

'Are you interested, or what?'

'Sure. I'm a professional. I don't need to know why. I just need to know you'll pay.'

'Good. Then it's settled. We just have to agree on a price.'

'I don't negotiate price. My price is fixed. Ten big ones. Five now and five when the job is completed.'

'Nobody told me that part,' I said. 'I don't have a lot of money on me.'

'Then you have a problem.'

'Do you take credit cards?'

'Lady, I'm not the Gap.'

'How about a check?'

'How about cash,' he said.

'Wait a minute, let me think. I just have to go to the bank. Can you wait while I go to the bank?'

'Sorry, no can do. I have a visibility problem.'

Lula was about twenty feet away, and Bob was chugging like a freight train, pulling against his collar, trying to get to me.

James turned to see what was making all that noise behind him, I slipped the stun gun out of my bag, pushed the button, and the little on light didn't go on.

James turned back to me and saw the stun gun. 'What the fuck?'

I looked at Lula in utter panic.

Lula let go of Bob's leash. Bob bounded over and took a flying leap for me, knocking me off the bench. James reached for his gun. And Lula roundhoused James on the side of the head with her purse. I still had the stun gun in my hand and suddenly the light blinked on. I shoved Bob out of the way, scrambled to grabbing distance of James, and caught him in the ankle with the prongs of the stun gun. James squeaked, slumped over, and slid to the ground.

I flopped over and lay spread-eagle on my back, hand to my heart for a moment. I was breathing hard, and I was leaking nervous fear, sweating in places I didn't think had sweat glands.

'What the heck was that?' Lula wanted to know. 'You had a expression on your face like you just had an irritable bowel experience.'

I looked at the stun gun. The light was off again. 'Low battery,' I said.

'Don't you hate when that happens?'

'What have you got in your purse? It sounded like you hit him with a frying pan.'

'I got my gun in there. And I got a couple rolls of quarters for meters. And I got a Maglite. And a stun gun. And cuffs.' She pulled the cuffs out and handed them to me. 'I guess you should cuff him, except it seems like a shame to ruin Bob's fun.'

Bob was jumping around on James, trying to get him to play. He'd snuffle James, and then he'd jump up and land on James with all four feet and do a growly thing, and then he'd jump around some more.

'Gonna be hard to explain all those muddy Bob-sized footprints on him,' Lula said. 'Gonna be even harder to explain all the dog slobber on his crotch.'

I dragged Bob off, and I cuffed James behind his back and stood. 'Do you have any shackles?'

'I got shackles in the trunk,' Lula said. 'You babysit, and I'll go get them.'

James moaned and sucked in some air and squinted up at me. 'Fuck. What happened?'

'Bond enforcement,' I said. 'Lula hit you with her purse.'

He sat up and looked at his slacks.

'What's all over my pants? Why are my pants wet?'

'Lula fell in love,' I told him. I thought that would put him in a better mood than telling him it was Bob slime.

'Are we hot, or what?' Lula said. 'We captured Leon James.'

We'd done a drive-through at Cluck-in-a-Bucket to celebrate our success, and then we'd processed James, picked up our body receipt, and now we were back in the office.

Connie was smiling. 'The morning was a downer, but the rest of the day was good. That was a big bond. And it turns out Melvin Pickle is a filing demon.'

Bob was sitting on my foot, pressing his body against my leg. He'd gone for a walk, eaten two pieces of chicken, slurped up a bowl of water, and now he was ready to nap.

'I'm taking Bob home,' I told Connie. 'If any information comes in on Ranger give me a call on my cell.'

'Yeah, and I'm going home too,' Lula said. 'I gotta get ready for tonight.'

'We have another batch of job applicants coming in tomorrow,' Connie said. 'Starting at nine o'clock.'

I loaded Bob into the back seat of the Mini and rolled the window down so he could stick his head out. The car was wall-to-wall dog, but Bob looked happy on the cushy leather.

I turned the engine over and moved into the stream of traffic with my eyes on Carmen, expecting her to follow. When I stopped for the light at the corner, the SUV was still at the curb, no sign of life. Carmen had probably fallen asleep at the wheel. Or maybe she'd gone for a walk. Or maybe she was in a second car, using the SUV as a decoy. I wound through the Burg watching my rearview mirror for a tail. No tail appeared, so I drove to Morelli's.

I deposited Bob in the house, locked up, and got back into the Mini. I motored the short distance to my apartment, parked, and rode the elevator with Mrs Bestler.

'How was your day, dear?' she asked, pressing the button for the second floor.

'Very good. And yours?'

'My day was excellent. I visited the chiropodist this morning. That's always exciting.' The doors opened, and Mrs Bestler sang out, 'Second floor, ladies lounge.'