Setting: Just after Notorious Nineteen

My name is Stephanie Plum. I'm a bond enforcement agent, working for my cousin, Vinnie. Due to my consistent ability to bring in low-bond skips, I am usually able to make rent at least every other month. This was not one of those months.

I was desperate, and for that reason alone, I was sitting with the windows down in the sweltering sun of late summer, waiting for Brian Dozer to leave his apartment so I could nab him. Dozer was a wanted man because he failed to appear in court the day before. He was arrested for having a joint tucked behind his ear at a traffic stop. Apparently wacky tobacky doesn't make him paranoid enough. I was hoping he'd be just as mellow when I approached him to take him back to jail.

I was wringing out a handkerchief through my side window when the passenger door opened, making me jump. I dropped the handkerchief and cursed.

"Babe." It was Ranger, and from his tone, I knew I wasn't looking too good. My mascara was probably running. I felt like I'd been hit with a hose.

I gave him a death glare. "Don't start," I warned, not in the mood. Sweat was dripping from my ponytail, and I looked and smelled like a drowned rat.

"You know it's 113 degrees?"

I rolled my eyes. How could I fail to notice the hellish heat, sitting in my '74 Dodge Dart P.O.S.?

"That's why the windows are down," I told him, with attitude. "Besides, it's white, so it reflects the heat." Actually, it was creamy rust, with a black interior.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, not amused.

"I'm making rent," I told him.

"Doesn't do you any good if you're dead," he said, serious.

"I'm fine," I assured him.

"You're not fine. You're coming with me," he said, handing me a bottle of water.

Just then, Dozer came down the steps. I wrenched my door open and found that my legs weren't all that steady. They're just asleep, I told myself. I'd been sitting there for four hours straight, not even needing to use the bathroom. I willed myself forward and, with great effort, I stumbled across the street. Dozer looked up at me, surprised when I called his name. Then he raced forward and caught me just before I tumbled into the postage stamp of crisp, withered grass in front of the house.

"My name is Stephanie Plum," I said in a hoarse voice. "I'm here to take you in." What? Where did that come from? That wasn't my usual line. And were my words slurred?

Recognition came to his eyes. He glanced up at Ranger, then he dropped me and took off running down the street. Before I knew what was happening, I heard the Dart roar to life as the car whipped around 180 degrees in the middle of the street, burning rubber. It was like stop motion for a few moments. I collapsed on the grass, my eyes trying to focus on the vanishing figure of Dozer. Then Ranger grabbed me under the arms and tossed me into the passenger seat of my car. Then, we were careening down the street, screeching around the corner. We weren't slowing down. Why weren't we slowing down? Dozer was getting bigger and bigger. Suddenly, Dozer's face was pressed into the windshield right in front of me. I watched his teeth scraping the dried bug guts, leaving a clean streak until his chin rested on the windshield wiper. Ranger whipped the car to the right, and Dozer slid towards the driver's side of the car. Ranger reached out the side window and grabbed Dozer's arm as we came to a stop. I heard the click of handcuffs and Dozer's surprised gasp as his body hit the pavement.

Ranger's phone chirped, and he answered it. "Yo." He listened for a few seconds, and then hung up and dialed another number. "Can you assist Stephanie? She's got a skip in custody, but she's pretty dehydrated. I don't want her driving right now." I heard someone answer. "Just a few blocks," he said. His mouth tightened. He was not liking the answer. "Fine," he growled, ending the call.

"Gotta go, Babe," he said, opening the water bottle and putting it in my hand. "Drink this, right now."

I gulped it down like it was nothing. I could have drank a couple gallons of water.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"I can drive eight blocks," I assured him.

"I don't like it, but I don't have a choice right now," he said. "You need to get out of this heat. Drive. Don't wait for backup. The heat has the cops spread thin."

I nodded. "I'm fine," I said.

Ranger opened the driver's side door, pushing Dozer's prone body out of the way as he got out. He reached down and smacked him a few times to rouse him.

"Stephanie is going to take you to the cop shop, and you're going to go peacefully, or I'll find you," Ranger promised, cuffing him to the chrome door handle. From the look on Dozer's face, I was pretty sure his pants were wet with more than sweat.

Dozer nodded. Ranger reached up and untangled a joint from the hair behind Dozer's left ear, shaking his head in disgust. He ground it in his fingers and tossed it away.

I slid over to the driver's side and rolled up the window so Dozer couldn't reach me after Ranger left.

"Babe," Ranger groaned.

I opened the little wing window in front. I could feel Ranger mentally rolling his eyes at me.

"Get going," he said. He waited for me to start slowly down the street. Dozer was starting to panic as he began to jog beside the car. Spots were dancing before my eyes, but I grit my teeth, determined to make it without incident.

I checked the rear view mirror and saw Ranger jogging back to a shiny new sports car I had never seen before. That's when it hit me...Ranger had actually driven one of my P.O.S. cars! I started laughing, softly at first, then louder and louder.

Dozer was clearly worried. He hit the window with his hand. "Are you okay in there?" he asked. "You can roll the window down! Hey! Wait! We're going too fast! Slow down! Help!"

We were doing about 10 miles per hour, according to the speedometer...not that I was sure it worked. Still, I decided to crack the window a few inches.

"We'll be there in a few minutes," I promised.

"Slow down!," he begged. "My shoes are getting heavy!"

"Yeah, right," I said. "I'm not falling for that one."

"I'm serious! I'm losing my shoes!" he screamed at me.

I tried to look down, but he was too close to the door, and I couldn't see anything.

"My shoe!" he yelled. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw a red and black sneaker bouncing down the street behind us. "Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!" he cried as he limped beside me.

"I thought your shoes were all red," I said, glancing over at him.

"The asphalt is melting, and sticking to my SHOES! Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch," he cried twice as fast. He was complaining with each foot fall now. I looked back in time to see the other shoe tumbling down the street.

"Almost there," I assured him. "Good thing you're wearing socks."

"Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!"

I bit my lip as we pulled through the gate into the parking lot. My good friend, Eddy Gazarra, was standing there, hands on hips, watching as we approached.

"Help! I'm burning! Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!"

"You are wearing socks, aren't you?" I asked nervously.

"I was," he cried as Eddy uncuffed him from the door handle and he and Carl Costanza carried Dozer inside.

What can I say? I get paid to bring them in, dead or alive. Although, I wasn't sure how Vinnie was going to feel about barbecued.