Janet Evanovich - Twelve Sharp

When I was done with the lasagna I plodded upstairs to my bedroom, flopped onto the bed, and crawled under the covers. I was exhausted. I needed a couple hours of sleep before rejoining the hunt for Julie. Probably there were better-equipped people than me out there, but I'd make whatever contribution I could.

Grandma hovered over me. 'Are you awake?' she asked.

'I am now.'

'We're eating. I figured you'd want to know.'

'I'll be down right away.'

I sat on the edge of the bed and called Morelli. 'Anything?'

'No. This guy is good at disappearing.'

'I think part of his success is that he thinks ahead and then he moves fast. He was already on the plane heading north before the word went out in Miami. He was out of the parking garage with me in the trunk of his car before anyone realized the panic button was left behind. And he had a car ready and waiting to make an exit from the motor home. And I'm betting he knew exactly where he wanted to go.'

'Most people at this stage would just keep driving. Put as much distance as possible between point A and point B.'

'He talked about going to Mexico to start a new life, but I don't think he can do that until he gets his fantasy together. I think he has to get rid of Ranger first.'

'I can identify with that one,' Morelli said.

I disconnected Morelli and called Ranger.

'Are you okay?' I asked him.

'I'm managing.'

'Any luck?'

'It's like the earth swallowed this guy.'

'He needs to eliminate you before he can move on.'

'Many have tried. None have succeeded. Tell me about Julie.'

'She was a little bedraggled-looking, but she seemed healthy. She's a lot like you. Brave and resilient. She said she hadn't been molested. I think women might be something Scrog needs to acquire to play his role, but I don't think he's a sexual deviant. He's constructed this weird world for himself. It's like he moves in and out of a game. And he kills people who get in his way. I think Julie will be safe with him. At least for a while.'

'Do you have any idea where he might be hiding?'

'I don't think he'll go far. He gets food and spare change by robbing convenience stores. He goes out early in the morning and brings back a couple bags of candy bars and snack cakes. You might be able to do something with that. And he's going to be stalking you. Aside from that, I just don't know.'

'What's your plan?'

'I don't have much of a plan. I'm at my parents' house right now, but I think I'll go back to my apartment tonight. Morelli's in his own house, and you don't need to camp out anymore. That leaves Rex all by himself.'

'Are you evicting me?'

'Yes.'

'We have unfinished business,' Ranger said.

'We always have unfinished business. Just out of morbid curiosity, how would you define your role in my life?'

'I'm dessert,' he said.

'Something that gives me pleasure, but isn't especially good for me?'

'Something that could never be the base of your food pyramid.'

See, here's where I was in trouble. Dessert was the base of my food pyramid!

I was holding a bag of leftovers from my mom, and a bag of clean clothes, plus the shoulder bag I'd left in the Mini when I changed cars in the parking lot. I juggled the bags, fumbled with the key, and let myself into my dark, quiet apartment. I maneuvered into the kitchen and dumped everything on the counter.

Rex was on his wheel, running, running, running. I tapped on the case and said hello. It was good to be home. Good to be alone. Ranger had just very nicely uncomplicated my life. Don't count on me to be meat and potatoes, babe. Decent of him to be honest. Not that I didn't already know it. Still, it helped to have it articulated. I blew out a sigh. Who was I kidding? It didn't help at all. Any more than the attempt to come back to my apartment and normalize my life helped to erase Julie from my thoughts. Julie Martine was a dull ache in my chest. The ache was constant, and all the more painful since I had no clue how to help in her search. At least when I was bait I had some purpose. I was sidelined now, left with nothing to do but wait. I couldn't imagine what it must be like for her mom. Truly terrible.

I pulled a package of sliced turkey out of the leftover bag. Some rolls fresh from the bakery. A wedge of chocolate cake. And then… sizzle. Again. Shit!

I didn't have a lot of furniture. A table and four chairs in the dining room. A couch and a comfy chair in the living room. A television on a low chest. A coffee table in front of the couch. When I came around I was in the living room, facing in such a way that I could see people entering from the little entrance foyer. I was sitting on a dining room chair, held to it by electrician's tape, my hands painfully cuffed behind the chair.

Julie was slumped in the single comfy chair. Her face was ghost-white and slack. Her eyes were drugged slits, barely open, unseeing. Her hands lay loose in her lap.

'What did you do to her?' I asked Scrog.

'She's okay. Just knocked out. I had to leave the motor home in a hurry. I didn't have time to make another bomb. Easier to zap her and give her a shot.'

'How did you get in here?'

'I used a pick I bought on the Internet.'

Scrog looked terrible. He had blood all over him from when I'd punched him in the nose. His eyes were black and swollen. His lip was cut. His foot was still in his shoe, and the shoe was wrapped around and around with the electrician's tape. He was sitting in the living room with me, in another of my dining room chairs, pulled to the side, out of view from the front door. He had a gun in his hand.

'I feel sick,' I whispered, head down. I was dripping drool and snot and my stomach was in a nauseous free fall. I was scared and horrified, and I'd been stun-gunned one too many times.

'Are you gonna throw up?'

'Yeah.'

He limped to the bathroom and came back with the wastebasket just in time for me to fill it with my mother's roast chicken and chocolate cake.

'That's disgusting,' he said.

'Maybe if you'd stop stun-gunning me…'

He limped back to the bathroom, and I heard him flush the toilet. He limped back and eased himself into his chair.

'You look like you could use some of the joy juice you gave Julie,' I said to him.

'I took some Advil.'

'Are you still going to Mexico?'

'Yeah. Maybe I'll work my way south and go to Guatemala. I think I heard they need bounty hunters there.'

If I didn't hate him so much I might feel sorry for him. Poor stupid crazy moron.

'Why are you here?' I asked him. 'Why don't you just steal a car and start driving?'

'I can't. It won't work unless I get rid of him.' He rubbed his temple with his fingertips. 'Headache,' he said. 'I think I might have a concussion from when I hit my head on the sidewalk. That was really bad of you. You're such a bitch. I was going to take you with me, but now I think I'll get rid of you too. I even know how I'll do it. I'll execute you. I'll put the barrel of the gun to your head and bang. A bullet in the brain.'

'You don't need to get rid of anyone,' I said. 'It'll just slow you down. You should leave now before someone finds you.'

'I can't. Don't you understand? He's ruining it. I hate him. He's stolen my destiny. He has my identity.'

Oh boy. 'Why Ranger?' I asked.

'I was supposed to be him. The minute I saw him I knew. I was working in this dorky record store, and one day he came in with his partner and arrested some slimebag. It was like a movie. He was all dressed in black like a SWAT guy, and he just walked up to this creep and cuffed him. He was wearing a gun, but he didn't draw. He just cuffed him and marched him out. Man, it was so cool. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized something went wrong. I was supposed to be him. I even look like him. So I asked the guard at the door who he was, and I started finding out about him. That he was a bounty hunter and all. I figured I had to find a way to get what was mine, you know, like my identity, my destiny. Before that I was going to be a cop. I was all set. I was working part-time at another mall doing security, waiting for my cop job to start. So it was lucky it all happened when it did, because I might have been a cop, and that would have been all wrong.'