Lula was looking around, too. 'Don't you hate when they take off like that?' she said. 'If there's one thing I can't stand it's a sneaky felon.'

'He can't have gone far. You take one side of the lot and I'll take the other, and we'll meet in the theater.'

There was the sound of a car engine coming to life in the second row. A car was gunned out of its parking space, and the car roared off toward the exit. I caught a glimpse of yellow hair on the guy behind the wheel.

'Guess we don't have to search the lot no more,' Lula said. 'Bet it's hard to drive with those cuffs on. Think you should have cuffed him behind his back like the book says.'

'He didn't seem dangerous. I was trying to be nice to him.'

'See where that gets you. Never be nice to people.'

I unlocked the truck and climbed in. 'Maybe he's dumb enough to go home,' I said to Lula. 'We'll check out his house.'

We pulled out of the lot, and I saw two Hamilton Township PD cars angled into the curb, lights flashing, half a block down. One was a squad car and the other was unmarked. The SUV was in front of the squad car. The occupants of the SUV were palms down on the SUV hood, getting searched.

I eased past the police cars and recognized Gus Chianni. He was standing back, letting the uniforms do their job. Most of the Hamilton cops were strangers to me. I knew Chianni because he was one of Morelli's longtime drinking buddies.

I stopped and powered my window down. 'What's going on?' I asked Chianni. 'Speeding,' he said, smiling. 'We were answering your call and ran across this SUV doing eighty in a twenty.'

'It's the car I called in.'

His smile widened. 'I figured.' He took a step back and looked at Ranger's truck. 'You steal this?'

'Borrowed.'

'Bet Joe's happy about that.'

All the cops knew Rangers truck. 'Gotta go,' I said. If Chianni was here, Morelli wasn't far behind.

The guy in the white silk warm-up suit turned his head sideways and stared at me. His face held no expression, but his eyes were like still pools in the river Styx. Black and bottomless and terrifying.

He gave a slight nod, as if to say he knew who I was. His right hand lifted off the SUV hood and he made the sign of a gun, thumb up, index finger extended. He mouthed the word bang at me.

Chianni saw it, too. 'Be careful,' he said to me.

I went out to the highway and drove in the opposite direction to what I would ordinarily take to get to the Burg.

This is bad,' Lula said when we were on the highway. That guy recognized you. He knew who you were. And it wasn't because he saw you in the lot just now, either. None of them saw us in the lot. That guy was no-shit evil, and he knew who you were.'

I pushed it aside and concentrated on driving. I didn't want the fear to grab hold of me. Careful was good. Scared was counterproductive. I went a couple miles out of my way, but I was able to reach Pancek's house without running into Morelli.

Pancek's house was dark, and his car wasn't in sight. I slowly drove around several blocks looking for the car. Big zero. He could have stashed the car in a friend's garage, and he could be hiding in his dark house, but I didn't think that was the case. I suspected he'd gone to someone he trusted and was trying to get out of the cuffs.

I took Lula home, and then I went back to Ranger's apartment on Haywood Street. I parked the truck on a side street and walked the distance to the underground garage. I looked up at the building. Again, floors five and six were lit. I remoted myself through the security gate and scurried across the garage to the elevator. Ranger's Turbo and the Porsche Cayenne were still in place. A black Ford Explorer was parked on the side wall, plus a black GMC Sonoma was parked next to the SUV.

I stepped into the elevator, remoted myself up to the seventh floor, and held my breath. The elevator doors opened to the austere foyer, and I jumped out.

I listened at the door to Ranger's apartment, didn't hear anything, held my breath, and let myself in. Everything seemed just as I'd left it. Very calm. Temperature a little on the cool side. Dark like Ranger. I flipped the lights on as I walked through the apartment. I said hello to Rex in the kitchen and set the grocery bags on the counter. I plugged my cell phone in to recharge, and I put the food away.

I wondered about floors five and six. For two nights now, they'd been lit. A variety of black cars were coming and going in the garage. So I was guessing floors five and six were offices. Although I suppose they could also be apartments. Either way I needed to be careful where I parked the truck and careful when I moved about the building.

I made a peanut and olive sandwich and washed it down with one of Ranger's Coronas. I shuffled off to the bedroom, dropped most of my clothes on the floor, went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and smell Rangers soap, and then I crawled into bed.

It had been a really weird day. Not that I haven't had weird days before. Weird days were getting to feel normal. The disturbing part about this weird day was that there'd been steadily escalating indicators of personal danger. I'd done my best to stay sane, to keep my fear in check, but the fear was actually riding very close to the surface. I'd been involved in some scary situations in the past. This was the first time a contract to kill me had been put into motion.

Eight

I opened my eyes and had a moment of panicky confusion. The room was dark and felt unfamiliar. The sheets were smooth and smelled like Ranger. And then it all clicked into focus. Again, I was the one who smelled like Ranger. I'd washed my hands and face before bed and the scent had lingered.

I switched the bedside light on and checked the time. It was almost eight a.m. My day hadn't even started, and already I was late. It was the bed, I decided. It was the best bed I'd ever slept in.

And, while I worried about Ranger returning, when I was in the apartment I felt safe from everything else. Ranger's apartment felt serene and secure.

I rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom. It was Friday.

Most people are happy on Friday because their workweek ends. I had the sort of job that never ended. Connie worked a half day on Saturday. Vinnie worked when he didn't have anything better to do.

We weren't sure when Lula worked. And I worked all the time.

Okay, so it wasn't always nine-to-five working. But it was always looking. Opportunities for capture popped up where you least expected at supermarkets, airports, shopping malls, and movie theaters.

And while on the subject of movie theaters, if I was a better bounty hunter I could probably take weekends off. When you botch a capture, like I did last night, you have to work twice as hard to make repairs. Pancek knew what I looked like now. And he knew I was after him.

I'd had plenty of opportunity to buy shower gel yesterday, but I'd conveniently forgotten. So now I had to once again use Rangers shower gel. What a hardship, eh? And then I had to dry off with one of his thick, superabsorbent towels. Another hardship I forced myself to endure. All right, I admit it, I was liking Rangers lifestyle.

And even more difficult to admit, I was liking the stolen intimacy.

I was going to have to say a lot of Hail Marys for that one.

And I was going to pay a price when Ranger returned. Even if I was long gone by the time he walked through his front door, even if I washed and ironed his sheets and replaced his shower gel, Ranger would know his home had been violated. The guy was a security expert. Probably there were cameras everywhere. Not in his apartment, I was guessing. But chances were good that there were cameras in the garage, the elevator, and his outer foyer. No one had come up to bust me, so I had to assume that either the cameras weren't monitored or else Ranger had been contacted and was allowing me to stay.