'Would you miss me if I went away?'

There was a long silence.

'Well?' I asked.

'I'm thinking.'

I called Lula next.

'Carol's up in about ten minutes,' Lula said. 'How are we supposed to get home?'

'I'm on my way. Parkings a pain. Call me when you're on the sidewalk in front of the building, and I'll swing by and pick you up.'

I reached the courthouse and drove around the block. My phone rang on the second pass.

'We're out,' Lula yelled. 'We got Carol with us, too. And we all need a bar!'

'How did she do?'

'Probation and counseling. It was her first offense, and she'd already paid for all the Fritos she ate. We had a lady judge who weighed about two hundred pounds and was real sympathetic.'

I turned the corner and saw them at the curb. Lula and Cindy were smiling. Carol looked shell-shocked. She was ghostly white, clutching a bag of Cheez Doodles to her chest, and she was visibly shaking.

They all piled into the backseat, with Carol sitting between Cindy and Lula.

'Carol doesn't know the court session is over,' Lula said, grinning. 'Carol's in a state. We gotta get Carol a big-ass margarita.'

I drove over to the Burg, and I parked in front of Marsillio's. It was a nice safe place to get a drink. If anybody messed with you at Marsillio's, Bobby V would kick their butt. Or even worse, he'd make sure they didn't get a table.

We guided Carol into Marsillio's, sat her at a table, and used the napkin to brush some of the doodle dust off her.

'Am I going to jail?' Carol asked.

'No,' Cindy said. 'You're not going to jail.'

'I was afraid I was going to jail. Who would take care of my kids?'

'I'd take care of your kids,' Cindy said. 'But you don't have to worry about it, because you're not going to jail.'

Alan, the owner, rushed over with a margarita for Carol.

'Am I going to jail?' she asked.

Three margaritas later, we poured Carol into the Lincoln, and I dumped her at Cindy's house.

'Boy,' Lula said. 'She was really hammered.'

With any luck she'd throw up a bag or two of Doodles. Don't get me wrong, I love Doodles, but they aren't exactly diet food when you snarf them by the truckload.

It was late afternoon, so I took Lula to the office. I parked in the rear lot, and we went in through the back door.

Connie was on her feet when she saw us. I've got a bunch of files,' she said. 'Everyone take a couple and put them away. I don't want another file mess.'

I took my stack of files and arranged them alphabetically. 'Joe tells me no one bonded out Anton Ward this time.'

'He's being held on a big bucks bond, and no one has the collateral to cover it. His brother called, but Vinnie wouldn't take the bond. The only way Ward's going to get out is with a signature bond, and no one's going to write a signature on Anton Ward.'

'What's the charge?'

'Armed robbery and accessory.'

'Ain't no justice in this world,' Lula said. That scrawny piece of garbage will plea-bargain and get off with a couple years.'

Connie filed the last of her folders. 'I don't think he'll plea-bargain.

I don't think he'll talk at all. If he gives up any Slayers, he's as good as dead.'

There was a burst of rapid-fire gunshots from the back of the building, and we all instinctively went to the floor. The shooting stopped, but we stayed down.

'Tell me I'm hallucinating,' Lula said. 'I don't want to believe this.'

After a couple minutes we got to our feet and tiptoed to the back door. We put our ears to the door and listened. Perfectly quiet. Connie cracked the door and peeked out. 'Okay,' she said. 'It makes sense now.'

Lula and I peeked out, too.

The Lincoln was totally spray painted with gang graffiti and riddled with bullet holes. The tires were shot out, and the windows were shattered.

'Huh,' Lula said. 'Guess you're going to need alternative transportation.'

What I needed was a new life. I felt myself gnawing on my lip again and immediately forced myself to stop.

'You're kind of white,' Connie said to me. 'Are you okay?'

'They found me. I was driving a new car, and I parked in the back, and they figured it out.'

'Probably watching the office,' Lula said.

'I'm trying real hard not to freak,' I told them.

'Play the role,' Lula said. 'That's what we do. We pick a role and we play it. What role you want to play?'

'I want to be smart, and I want to be brave.'

'Go for it,' Lula said.

Connie closed and locked the door. She went to the ammo storage area, rummaged through boxes, and came up with a Kevlar vest.

'Try this on for size,' she said to me.

I slipped it on, flattened the Velcro closures, and covered the vest with the hooded sweatshirt.

Lula and Connie stood back and looked at me. I was wearing

Ranger's black hat, black T-shirt, black sweatshirt.

'It's the damnedest thing,' Lula said. 'Now you just don't smell like Ranger, you're even starting to look like him.'

'Yeah,' Connie said. 'How come you still smell like Ranger?'

'It's this new shower gel I bought. It smells like Ranger.' Can I fib, or what?

'I'm gonna go buy a gallon,' Lula said. 'What's it called?'

'Bulgari.'

I was back to using Ranger's truck. I was parked two blocks from his building, waiting for the sun to set and the building to clear out.

Another couple minutes and I thought it would be safe for me to make a move. I'd been waiting for over two hours. That was okay.

It had given me time to think.

Connie was right. I needed to find out why I was on the list.

Eventually, Street Crimes or the Criminal Intelligence unit would get the information, but I was having a hard time finding the patience for 'eventually.'

I'd had a stupid, crazy idea while I was at the bonds office. It was so stupid and crazy I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud.

Trouble was, the idea wouldn't go away. And I was beginning to think it wasn't so stupid and crazy.

What I needed was a snitch. I needed to find a Slayer who could be bribed into talking. I didn't have a lot of money to use as a bribe, so I figured I'd have to resort to violence. And then I needed to find this Slayer outside of Slayerland. No way was I getting caught within Slayer boundaries.

So how am I going to catch a lone Slayer out of his 'hood? Turns out there's one sitting in jail. Anton Ward. All I have to do is bond him out, and he's mine. Okay, so I don't have all the details worked out, but it has potential, right?

The sun was down, and the streets were empty. Time to take a look at the building, I decided. I locked the truck, I pulled the hood over Ranger's ball cap, and I walked the two blocks to the gate. Floors five and six were lit. And there was a single window showing light on the fourth floor. Only the night guard was left in the lobby. Now or never, I thought. I remoted myself through the gate, crossed the garage, and took the elevator without a hitch. I let myself into the apartment and relaxed.

The apartment was nice and empty. Just as I'd left it. I dropped the keys to the truck in the dish on the sideboard. I shrugged out of the sweatshirt and vest and went to the kitchen.

Rex was running on his wheel. I tapped on the side of the cage and said hello. Rex paused for a moment, whiskers twitching. He blinked once and went back to running.

I opened the refrigerator and looked inside. Then I looked down at my waistline. Still some fat oozing over the top of my jeans, but there was less fat than yesterday. I was moving in the right direction. I closed the refrigerator door and hustled out of the kitchen before the beer got to me.

I watched television for a while, and then I took a shower. I told myself I was taking a shower to relax, but the truth was, I wanted to smell the soap. Sometimes I was able to forget I was living in Ranger's space. Tonight wasn't one of those times. Tonight I was very aware that I was using his towels and sleeping in his bed. It was a kind of Russian roulette, I thought. Each night I walked into the apartment and spun the barrel. One of these nights Ranger would be here waiting for me, and I was going to take it between the eyes.