Plum Justified

By MsBrooklyn

I don't own a thing. Not any of Janet Evanovich's characters (Stephanie Plum, Joe Morelli, Ranger and their supporting cast) nor any of Elmore Leonard's creations nor any of the creations that sprang forth from the creative minds behind Justified. The only creative thought I had was to smoosh these two worlds together. Hopefully, that's enough. By the way, this strange crossover between Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series and Justified fits absolutely nowhere in either series' continuity.

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My feet were aching and there were bits of twigs and leaves in my hair. I was asking myself for the thousandth time how I let Vinnie talk me into this when I heard the sweetest sound in the world. A car was coming.

My name is Stephanie Plum and I'm no stranger to aching feet or stuff in my hair. I'm a bail enforcement agent, or a bounty hunter if you prefer, and these things happen when I do my job. Normally, I do my job in the Chambersburg section of Trenton, New Jersey, where I live in a low-rent brick-faced apartment building that's not far from my parents' house. I'm average height with shoulder length curly brown hair and blue eyes and I used to be a lingerie buyer for a department store but it went bankrupt. Now I work for my cousin, Vinnie Plum, who runs a bail bonds business. I'm not the best bond enforcement agent in the world but I get the job done most of the time. My job was why I was hitch-hiking on a rural road in nowhere Kentucky.

Well, to be fair, that was part of the reason. Vinnie did somebody a favor that blew up in his face. At least, he said it was a favor. Probably, he owed his bookie and bonding out some FTA who jumped bail in Florida and lit out to Kentucky of all places was how he paid up.

The rest of the reason was that I was woefully behind on the rent for my low-rent apartment. Well, most of the rest of the reason.

Another part of the reason was that my on-again, off-again relationship with Joe Morelli was in an off-again phase. Joe's a plainclothes cop in Trenton. He's lean and muscular, with black hair that reaches the tops of his ears and the nape of his neck and who has chocolate brown eyes that have melted panties across Trenton for years. My panties were apparently fireproof because not only were we not speaking, we were not speaking about a half-assed proposal that I sort of didn't accept because I pretended not to hear it.

Don't get me wrong. Morelli is great most of the time, except when he tells me to quit my job and he brings up marriage, or worse, babies. I'm pretty sure I'd like to get married but less sure about the babies thing. At least I'm pretty sure sometimes. But when Morelli brings it up and starts talking about rings and moving in together, that's when I take a case that brings me to a place I would never go if I were in my right mind, like Kentucky. Not even Lula wanted to come with me, even though she informed me that fried chicken was invented here and she wanted me to bring her back some.

I jabbed out my thumb and to my surprise, a shiny black four door Lincoln slowed and then stopped. The power window slid down and the driver regarded me curiously from under the brim of a cowboy hat. "You look like you're having a bad day."

"It's not going too great," I agreed.

"Where are you headed?" He slid the hat back, giving me a better look at him. The cowboy was cute, with brown eyes and an easy smile. He even had all his teeth, which was a nice change of pace from some of the people I'd spoken to earlier.

"The nearest police station would be great."

He motioned for me to get in. "Fight with your boyfriend?"

"Not exactly."

The man shifted in his seat, brushing aside the jacket he was wearing to show me the badge clipped to his belt. "Maybe I can help. Deputy United States Marshal Raylan Givens."

Was it possible my luck was finally changing? "Stephanie Plum. I'm a bail enforcement agent."

Givens cut his eyes to me. "Takedown go sideways?"

"Kind of," I admitted.

He made a small noise, similar to the noises the people in Harlan made when I tried asking questions about my FTA's whereabouts earlier.

"What?"

"You're a long way from New York, Miss Plum."

"New Jersey," I corrected him. "Trenton. My boss bonded out some guy from Florida as a favor and the guy skipped. We traced him to Harlan and since he didn't seem that dangerous, I volunteered to go get him."

The marshal pulled the car over and stared at me. I knew that look. Morelli wore it a lot when he talked to me about my job. "Exactly who were you looking for?"

"A guy by the name of Dewey Crowe. Ever hear of him?"

Givens started to snicker, tried to control himself, lost, and burst out laughing. "Dewey Crowe? You couldn't apprehend Dewey Crowe?"

"My pepper spray was empty."

This caused a renewed burst of laughter.

Probably, it wasn't a good idea to mention that Crowe stole my car.

"He stole your car, huh?"

Crap.

Wiping his eyes, Givens pulled out his Blackberry. "What's the make and model? I'll put a BOLO out on it."

"A black Porsche Cayenne." I felt a wave of gratitude that Ranger insisted I take a RangeMan vehicle instead of the rusted-out Chevy Celebrity I was currently driving.

"Plate?"

"Uh... It has a Y in it."

He smirked.

"It's a company car!" My left eye started twitching. "I realize it'll be hard to find, what with all the luxury cars jamming up your busy highways but maybe you could try."

Givens shot me a serious look. "Was there a gun in your vehicle?"

"No, just my purse." And a box of TastyKake butterscotch Krimpets.

"And was your gun in your purse?" he asked, enunciating each word as if talking to a slow child.

"No," I answered in the same tone. "My gun is at home. In my cookie jar."

He stared at me like I was from another planet.

"You're a cop. You know it's illegal to take a gun across state lines without all the right paperwork."

"What about handcuffs? Did you bring those?"

"Of course I brought handcuffs. And a stun gun. And pepper spray-"

"Which was empty. Was your stun gun charged?"

My left eye started twitching again. "Maybe."

"Maybe," he repeated. Givens sighed and shot me a wry smile. "You figured you'd ask him all nice and he'd come with you?"

"Don't knock it. It works."

This earned another snort of laughter. He hit a number on speed-dial and put out an alert on my car.

As he ended the call, I remembered that I had no money or identification. "Uh, any chance I could borrow your phone?"

Givens started his car and handed the cell phone to me.

Bracing myself, I dialed Ranger's number. Ranger is the other man in my life. His real name is Ricardo Carlos Manoso and he works part time for Vinnie and part time for his own ventures, including RangeMan Security. He's dark-eyed, dark-skinned and dangerous. And he said he loves me. In his own way, whatever that means. The good news is that he doesn't want to marry me. When I told him I was coming down here, after he finished laughing, he insisted on giving me a RangeMan vehicle. We both knew that probably I was going to need another. I just hadn't expected it to be so soon.

"Babe."

"How'd you know this was me?"

"Kentucky area code and the tracker in your car just went dead. I'll arrange for a replacement vehicle."

"Can you arrange for a driver's license, a cell phone, a stun gun, handcuffs and some money, too?"

"Babe."

"It's a long story."

"It always is. You want me to send everything care of the Marshal's Service?"

"I guess.". I cut my eyes over to Givens who was obviously listening in but pretending he wasn't. "You have a location on the Cayenne?"

"Not yet." He hung up.

"He's going to send everything care of the Marshals Service. Is that okay with you?"

"I'm sure it'll save time." Givens flashed me an insincere smile. "Getting your statement may well be the highlight of my day."

His last few words were nearly drowned out by the fire engines screaming past, followed by a State Trooper's SUV We swung onto the highway behind the fire chief's SUV, which was bringing up the rear.

"We're going to take a little detour," Givens told me.

I had a bad feeling what we were going to find.

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The firemen were spraying down the smoldering remains of the Cayenne when we pulled up. A State Trooper was watching the scene as if it were a particularly interesting reality show.

His face lit up when he saw Givens emerge from the Lincoln and then morphed into distaste when he took in my dust covered, disheveled appearance.

"Tom."

"Raylan."

They both stared at me but it was Givens who broke the silence. "I do believe we've found your car, Miss Plum."

"Guess you can cancel that BOLO," I suggested.

"You don't seem too surprised to find it blown all to hell," the marshal added.

"It happens."

His eyebrows rose. "Does it?"

"The cops in Trenton can tell you all about it. It's a thing," I shrugged.

"A thing?" Givens' voice went up an octave.

"Probably you should ask my boyfriend about it. He works Homicide in Trenton. He's not speaking to me at the moment but I'm sure he'll be happy to fill you in when he's done laughing his ass off."

"He'll think this is funny?" The State Trooper's mouth was hanging open. With his buzz cut and ears that stuck out, he bore an uncanny resemblance to Dopey.

"Oh, it's funny," Givens smirked. "She's a bounty hunter from New Jersey and she's here for Dewey Crowe."

"Dewey Crowe did this?" The Trooper ran a hand over his head. "Must've picked up a thing or two about explosives from Boyd Crowder."

That sobered Givens. "Great. Just what we need."

"Well, I could've told you it'd be trouble when you got Dewey into that halfway house. The man doesn't have enough sense to come in out of the rain and we both knew he wouldn't stay put."

"He has his uses, believe it or not."

"Well, then." The Trooper snorted and turned to me, his expression turning serious. "I suppose your warrant for Dewey was in your vehicle."

"Warrant?" I echoed. Connie hadn't mentioned needing a warrant.

"Bounty hunting is against the law in Kentucky unless you're from out of state and you've got a warrant."

Uh-oh.

"Probably your warrant was in your car," the Trooper suggested, kindly. "Probably it got burned to a crisp and you're just going to have to go request a new one."

"Sounds likely, Tom," Givens added, cutting his eyes to me. "Everything else was in the car."

"Gun, too?" Tom the Trooper asked.

"Naw," Givens chuckled, one good old boy to another, mocking the city slicker from Trenton. "Her gun's at home in her cookie jar."

"So she was just going to sweet-talk him into turning himself in? Dewey's stupid but still..."

They both looked at me and the looks implied that Dewey was a rocket scientist compared to me.

"The worst he ever did was poach a couple of alligators," I said. "It's not like he killed anybody."

Givens rubbed his eyes and fixed me with a weary stare. "Well, no, he didn't kill anybody but he impersonated a federal officer, boosted Oxy from the Dixie Mafia, fooled around with white supremacy and got himself mixed up in all kinds of shit."

"Dixie Mafia?". We had the real mob back in the Burg. I couldn't imagine what they had in Kentucky. Well, I could but it looked like Colonel Sanders holding an Uzi.

"That's right and they're still not happy about a busload of Oxy going missing," Givens said. "You're not the only one looking for Dewey Crowe."

I cut my eyes over at the charred remains of the Cayenne.

"You might want to head back to Jersey," Tom the Trooper suggested. "Deal with a safer bunch of bail jumpers."

Now I was insulted. I made a dismissive hand gesture at the burnt out Cayenne. "This? This is nothing. I've brought in senior citizens who are more dangerous."

"Really." Givens' voice dripped sarcasm.

"Really. We have a sixty-four year old urban taxidermist who bombed a cable tv truck on account of the repair person never showed up."

Both men stared at me but it was Tom the Trooper who spoke first. "What's an urban taxidermist?"

I shuddered, remembering. "He stuffed roadkill. You know, like squirrels and beavers. He motorized some of them so they would move. They looked like little furry Frankensteins with tire tracks on their heads." I shuddered again. "And then there were the ones with the explosives. Those were nasty. Squirrel parts everywhere."

"I've never been to New Jersey," Tom the Trooper told Givens. "And right now, I'm real glad about that."

"I don't suppose you'd like to take her statement." Givens looked hopeful.

"Finders keepers, Raylan. She's all yours."

Somewhere, Morelli was laughing his ass off.