Standard FF disclaimers.

Copy Cat

For the tenth time, Stephanie checked the clock on the dashboard. Her car was parked down the street, half a block from the house that she was watching. Connie had confirmed this morning that her skip was returning to his parent's home today. His mother was expecting him. But the kid did not seem interested in keeping any kind of schedule. Stephanie had been sitting here, waiting for over an hour. She had just pulled out her cell phone to give Connie a call, when a car turned the corner and drove down the block. Returning the phone to her handbag, Stephanie watched as the car pulled into the Hamblin's driveway. The garage door opened and the car pulled in. "Game on," she said with a smile.

This was the third time that Stephanie had tried to catch up with Ritchie Hamblin. The kid was just nineteen, and she figured that he was either scared or extremely determined not to go to jail for the first time in his life. And while throwing eggs at police cars was not as serious as many other crimes, he had been caught and he did have to pay the price for his public nuisance charge.

Stephanie looked around carefully before she got out of her car and walked toward the house. She grumbled to herself as she stomped up to the doorstep. "This is way too much work for a stupid low bond skip." She muttered under her breath.

As she approached the porch, Stephanie could hear movement inside the house. She wished, again, that Lula was here with her, so that she could send her out around to the back door. She figured the young kid was sure to be bursting through it any minute now. But at this moment, Lula was at the salon down the street from the Bonds office. She was taking advantage of their Grand Opening Special to get her hair tinted to match the purple sequined spandex dress that she was wearing on her date with Tank tonight.

Stephanie did not really begrudge her friend the time she was taking off to prepare for this special date. This was a big moment for her. Tank was giving her another chance at a relationship, and she was determined to give it her best shot. She did not want to risk losing him again. Lula wanted everything to be perfect tonight, and Stephanie could not blame her.

Still, Stephanie was here now. She was on her own, and she was more than ready to grab Ritchie's bony little butt and get him taken in to be re-bonded. "Three times a charm," she said softly, shaking her head as she checked and double checked that she had her cuffs and pepper spray tucked into the back of her waistband. Her handbag was slung across her chest and Stephanie patted the bulge in the bag. She nodded, confirming that the stun gun was there, easily within reach. She took in a sharp breath as her hand hit her .38 special that had fallen to the very bottom of the big bag.

Rolling her eyes, she squared her shoulders, and stepped forward. The gun could stay right where it was. It was not as if she would use it, even knowing that she had it with her today. Feeling as ready as she would ever be, Stephanie reached out to knock on the heavy looking wood door in front of her. This time she knew that Ritchie was where he was supposed to be. His mother had told Connie earlier this morning that he was coming to pick up a few things from his bedroom that he wanted to move out to his dorm room. That was Ritchie's car in the garage. Everything was in place, it was time to get this done. Her hand was up, poised and ready to knock.

Just then the front door was thrown open, but no one seemed to be there. After a moment, Stephanie leaned forward to peer into the room. "Hello?" she started to say. Dread gripped her as she heard a series of loud clicking sounds behind her. Almost immediately she felt the sharp slaps on her back and legs.

Knowing better, Stephanie still spun around to see where the kids were this time. The paint balls were raining down on her, the sting of their hits was enough to take the breath out of her lungs, and she couldn't even see anyone yet.

Suddenly, someone yelled a word that she couldn't understand, and she saw the kids, all friends of Ritchie's, running through the gate in the fence between the houses across the street. Howling like wolves, they took off running down to the end of the street where they turned the corner and disappeared from view. Stephanie watched them, shaking her head. They weren't nearly this vocal during the other encounters she'd had with them.

Overlapping patches of green and blue and pink and bright orange now decorated her clothes, and face and hair. She could just imagine how bad she looked this time. This assault had been cleverly planned, just like the one at the football field, last week, where Ritchie was supposed to be at football practice, and the attack a few days later at the Purple City Pizza and Grill the Cluck Chicken company where he used to work. They had known that she was coming. They had probably been watching her the whole time that she was waiting for Ritchie to show up this morning. She sighed. This was getting old. A noise from inside the house pulled her attention away from the now empty street, and she turned back to the door.

Finally, something snapped inside her brain, she had had it. She was fed up and she was getting very angry. "Oh, no you don't," she growled and lurched forward as she saw Ritchie peek his nose around the front door. Before he could raise his paintball gun to shoot at her, Stephanie grabbed at his arm and wrangled him down onto the floor. Her cuffs came out and she slapped them on his wrist. Ritchie's gun clattered to the floor, as he tried to twist away from her grip. But she was not about to let him go, and she managed to cuff his other wrist and began to drag him down the street to her car.

Just as she had opened the door, Stephanie looked up as some crazy howling and hooting announced the return of the paintball warriors. Both Stephanie and Ritchie, and her car, ended up getting splattered from top to bottom with more of the bright, colorful paint. She finally managed to get him into the back seat of the car, and slammed her door to shut out the rest of the attack. "Seriously Ritchie, what is this all about," Stephanie said, turning in her seat to glare at him. "Paintballs? What were you thinking?"

She read him the riot act during the entire ride to the Police station downtown. Ritchie just looked at her wide eyed, and actually had the nerve to act relieved when they pulled into the parking lot and the lecture ended. She walked the kid through the doors, trying to ignore the snickers and snide comments from everyone there.

"Get stuck in a Gay Pride parade Steph?" Eddie giggled. He stopped his laughter abruptly when he saw the glare that she gave him.

Connie was waiting to re-bond Ritchie, as planned. Stephanie handed the body receipt to her. Connie held the paper by its corner, as it was smudged with pink and yellow paint. She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the two of them, all covered with paint. She was speechless for a moment, finding it impossible to even ask what happened.

Stephanie nodded briefly at Connie, she was ready to turn the whole deal over to her now. But she actually found herself wishing that Ritchie would have had to sit and cool his heels in a cell for a while, for the stunts he had pulled on her. She shrugged off the thought, she was just glad it was over. After hearing more than her fill of the stupid jokes and the teasing comments, she glared at everyone as she left the building. Almost daring them to say one more word!

Since she was still taking care of Ritchie, Stephanie knew that Connie would not be back to the office to cut her a check for a while, so she headed to her apartment to attempt to clean herself up. It took all of the hot water, and several scrubbings before she was finally paint free.

The whole time she was carrying on an internal debate. It was still early in the day and Stephanie knew that there were a few more folders in her bag, skips that she had to find and bring in soon. She needed the money, the check from Ritchie's capture would not be nearly enough to cover her bills. But by the time she emerged from the bathroom, she had decided to take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow would come quickly enough.

Throwing on some shorts and a tank top, she headed to the kitchen. "Hey Rex," she said, as she passed by the aquarium sitting on the counter. "You would not believe the day that I've had!"

Carrying on a one sided conversation, Stephanie opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of grapes and her nearly empty jar of olives. She told Rex about Ritchie and his friends. She explained how much it stings, as those small paint balls explode when they hit you. She dropped the grapes into his dish.

"They still sting Rex." She said, looking into his little black eyes. Rex twitched his whiskers. Stephanie smiled. Rex was always so understanding. She winked at him and he turned and disappeared into his soup can.

With her peanut butter sandwich and a glass of water, Stephanie settled down in front of her small TV and popped her favorite movie into the old VCR. "That's the ticket," she said softly. No more Ritchie, no more paintballs, no more jokes at her expense at over the TPD. Before long she had fallen asleep.

While Stephanie dozed that afternoon, word of the paintball attacks spread like wildfire throughout the burg. Helen Plum was mortified that another story about her daughter's obviously disastrous job was all anyone wanted to talk about. It was the same old thing, and she wondered, again, why Stephanie wouldn't call it quits with Vinnie's bond business. She wondered what it would be like to not be the center of gossip over Stephanie's latest escapades. She wondered if she should tell her that Virginia Spraegue's daughter was getting married and was going to be leaving her teller position at the local branch of her bank. With a nod, Helen decided that she would tell Stephanie about the position. Working as a teller would be a lot safer and a lot cleaner than being a bounty hunter. She plugged the phone cord back into the wall and dialed Stephanie's number.

Helen's calls went unanswered. Leaving message after message, she finally gave it up for the time being and focused on getting dinner started. She did not know that there were others around town that were equally interested in the paint ball stories. Plans were being made. Strategies put into play. Within 24 hours all of the paintball guns and the entire supply of paint ball pellets in the greater Trenton area would be sold out.