Twelve Sharp

by Janet Evanovich

  Morelli had me up and walking around. I couldn't remember getting the cuffs removed or the tape cut away. I clung to Morelli, and I couldn't breathe. They brought oxygen to me, but I still couldn't breathe. From the corner of my eye I could see them working over Ranger. Hooking him to an IV, shouting orders, running with equipment. And I just couldn't breathe. I was crying and choking and there wasn't enough air in the room.

  Morelli scooped me up and carried me outside to the hall, away from the insanity in the apartment. He was talking to me, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. He moved me flat to the wall, and they came through with Ranger. They had the elevator doors open and waiting. They rolled him past me. His eyes were closed. Oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. Shirt cut away. Blood everywhere.

  Julie was running beside the stretcher, her hand clenched onto the strap holding Ranger secure. Someone tried to stop her, and she slapped him away.

  'This is my father,' she said. I'm going with him.'

  Morelli turned to me with a small rueful smile. 'The apple didn't fall far from the tree with that one.'

  I nodded.

  'Do you want to follow them to the hospital?' Morelli asked.

  I nodded again.

  Morelli took me down the stairs and through the lobby. Ranger was already on his way out of the lot when we walked through the doors. A black RangeMan SUV followed the EMS truck.

  Morelli buckled me in and ran around to the driver's side. 'He might be okay,' Morelli said. 'They'll know more when they get him into x-ray. He was wearing a vest. From what I could see he took four in the chest. One of them penetrated. Maybe not entirely. Even if it hadn't, at that close range they'd knock him out. He took two more. One in the shoulder and one sliced into his neck. It was the neck wound that produced all the blood. Sunny Raspich was working EMT, and he said he thought it looked worse than it actually was. He said it looked like a clean slice that didn't hit anything vital.'

  Morelli had his Kojak light on the SUV roof, but he didn't speed to the hospital. He drove sane and steady, and he kept an eye on me.

  By the time we got to Hamilton I was breathing almost normally. 'I'm okay,' I said to Morelli. 'I just had a slightly overdue panic attack back there.'

  'I've seen you in the middle of a lot of disasters. I've never seen you in that bad shape.'

  'I didn't know who was walking into my living room, but I knew it had to be you or Ranger. Scrog was hiding with his gun in his hand, and he said he'd shoot Julie if I said anything. It was like I had to choose who lived and who died. And I didn't know what to do. And then when Ranger was shot…'

  Morelli pulled to the side and put his arm around me because tears were running down my face, dripping off my chin and soaking into my shirt.

  'It wasn't your fault that Ranger got shot,' Morelli said. 'There were no good choices for you to make. It would all have played out the same. Except you probably saved Julie from getting shot. Ranger went in as a target. He had Tank still doing surveillance on you. When you went back to your apartment Ranger swept the area and discovered the car Scrog had used. How he picked that car out is a miracle. It was parked two blocks away, looking like any other car in the dark. I think he's psychic sometimes. Scrog left some trace bloodstains on the seat. I would never have found them.'

  'I was stupid. I thought Scrog didn't want to have any more to do with me. I should have thought he'd go to my apartment and wait for Ranger.'

  'Sometimes it's the obvious that we miss. I remember you saying the reason Scrog succeeds is that he thinks ahead and moves fast. And that's exactly what he did. He went directly from the motor home, to the car he had hidden, to your apartment.'

  I had myself back under control, so Morelli put the car in gear and pulled into traffic.

  'Ranger called me and said he found the car, and he thought Scrog was camped out in your apartment with you and Julie. We pulled a task force together and decided on a plan. Ranger knew Scrog wanted him, so he thought the safest way to go was to give himself up. He went in hoping he could talk to Scrog. And he knew there was a good possibility he'd get shot. He had the vest on. We had the EMT parked around the corner. Maybe Ranger was a mess inside, but he didn't show anything. He was eerily calm. I think if it was me I might have at least had to make a trip to the bathroom.'

  'Something became very clear to me when I was waiting to see who was going to walk into my apartment,' I said to Morelli.

  He looked over at me.

  'I love you,' I told him.

  'Yeah,' Morelli said. 'I know. But it's nice to hear you say it. I love you, too.'

  What wasn't said was that I also loved Ranger, but one thing at a time, right?

  Morelli parked in a small lot reserved for emergency vehicles, and we went into the ER together. The waiting room was filled with guys in black Range Man uniforms.

  'Blood donors,' Morelli said.

  And it was horrible, but true.

  Tank was standing with an arm around Julie.

  'How is he?' I asked Tank.

  'Don't know. We're waiting to hear. They took him right into the OR. He was awake when he came in, so maybe that's a good sign.'

  'Have you called your mom?' I asked Julie.

  'Yes. I just got off the phone with her. She was really happy that I was okay. Her and my dad are going to fly up here to get me. She said she wasn't putting me on a plane alone. And she told Tank he wasn't to let me out of his sight.' Julie grinned. 'She's a little over-protective.'

  I pulled Morelli to a quiet corner. 'Did she kill Scrog?'

  'He wasn't dead when they hauled him out. I hate to bring this up, but you don't smell great.'

  'I threw up.'

  'That would do it.'

  Melvin Pickle was in a state. He was sitting rigid on the faux leather couch in the bond office with his hands tightly clenched in his lap. His hair was newly cut and combed. His shoes were polished. His badly fitting clothes were clean and pressed. It was Monday, and he was scheduled for court. He was armed with a verification of employment from Connie and a letter of apology to the theater.

  I was on hand to drive Melvin to court and make sure he got through the ordeal without jumping off a bridge. I was dressed in my court outfit of black heels, a little black suit, and a white knit tank top. Melvin was first up, and with any luck we'd all be done by noon.

  'Joyce got the money for capturing Lonnie Johnson, didn't she?' I asked Connie.

  'It just about killed me to have to give it to her,' Connie said.

  Lula was on the couch next to Pickle. 'She should have at least split it with you. You were the one who blew Johnson up. She would have never got him if it wasn't for you.'

  'And we're keeping her on?' I asked, already knowing the hideous answer.

  'Damn right, we're keeping her on,' Vinnie yelled from his office. 'She brought in two big bonds. Count them. Two!'

  'Life is so unfair,' I said to Connie.

  'I'm really nervous,' Pickle said. 'I don't want to go to jail.'

  'You won't go to jail,' Lula said. 'And even if you do, it won't be for real long. I mean, how much time can a little chicken-shit pervert like you get? And then when you get out, we're gonna go look for an apartment for you, so you don't have to live with your mother. Now that you got a job here, you can move out.'

  'We have to go,' I said to Pickle. 'We don't want to be late.'

  Connie handed me two folders. 'New FTAs,' she said. 'Nothing exciting. A wife beater and grand theft auto.'

  I shoved the files into my shoulder bag. Maybe I'd look at them tomorrow. Maybe never. Maybe I needed a new job. Problem was, I'd gone that route recently, and it hadn't turn out great. But maybe I'd just lacked direction. Maybe if I had a plan this time. Like opening a business. That could be exciting, right?

  'You got that look,' Lula said to me. 'Like you're gonna start driving and not stop until you get to Hawaii.'

  I eased the Mini to the curb in front of the bonds office, and I was smiling along with Pi
ckle.

  'Ten days of community service,' Pickle said for the hundredth time. 'And I can do it on weekends. And probably it'll be fun. Maybe I can work at an old people's home or an animal shelter. I can't wait to tell Lula and Connie.'

  I was genuinely happy for Melvin Pickle. It turns out he's a nice guy. And I mean, who doesn't occasionally whack off in the multiplex? I've never tried it personally, but who am I to judge?

  I dropped Pickle at the door, and I drove two blocks to Giorvichinni's Market and got some cut flowers. It was almost noon. Ranger was scheduled to leave the hospital this morning, so he should be home by now, back in his apartment at RangeMan. Morelli had taken Scrog's computer and scrapbook as evidence. I had Ranger's computer and various office machines in my trunk and back seat.

  I let myself into the underground RangeMan garage and parked in one of Ranger's private spaces. I left the office equipment in the car, took the flowers and a bakery box, and stepped into the elevator. I waved at the security camera and used my passkey to get to Ranger's private floor. I keyed his apartment door open and stuck my head in and called to him.

  'In my office,' he said.

  He was at his desk, dressed in grey sweatpants and a sleeveless grey sweatshirt. A large square bandage was taped to his neck, and his right shoulder was wrapped in heavy gauze and held tight to his body in a canvas sling. I could see his chest was wrapped in tape where the bullet had penetrated the Kevlar vest and splintered a rib.

  'I'd get up,' he said, 'but the rib is a killer when I move.'

  'No need to get up,' I told him. I moved some papers out of the way, sat my ass on his desk so that I was facing him, and gave him the flowers and the gift box. 'I brought get-well presents.'

  He looked into the box. 'Birthday cake?'

  'I thought your food pyramid might need some cheering up.'

  'It says “Happy Birthday Stanley.”'

  'It also isn't your birthday, but I don't see why that should stop us from eating cake. Have you had lunch?'

  'No. Ella brought a tray, but I wasn't hungry.'

  'Are you hungry now?'

  He looked down at my bare legs and little skirt. 'I'm getting there.'

  I slid off his desk and went to the kitchen. I prowled around and found some sandwiches and brought them in on the tray along with some forks. I set the tray on his desk and pulled a chair over for myself.

  'Things are going to be pretty dull around here with only one Ranger,' I said.

  Ranger forked an icing rose off the cake and fed it to me. 'One Ranger is all you'll ever need.'

  Table of Contents

  Stephanie Plum 12 - Twelve Sharp

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four