I took a flying leap and tackled him from behind. We both went down, I rolled off, and Connie swooped in and tagged him with the stun gun.

'Unh,' Ward said. And he went inert.

We all popped our heads up to see if anyone was looking in the front window.

'We're in the clear,' Connie said. 'Quick, help me drag him behind the file cabinets before someone sees him.'

Ten minutes later we were set to go. Ward was cuffed and shackled. We wrapped him in a blanket and carted him out the back door to Lula's car. We dumped him in the trunk, and we all made the sign of the cross. Then Connie slammed the trunk lid shut.

'Holy Mary Mother of God,' Connie said. She was breathing heavy, and her forehead was beaded with perspiration.

'He isn't going to die in there, is he?' I asked Connie. 'He can breathe, right?'

'He'll be fine. I asked my cousin Anthony. Anthony knows these things.'

Lula and I didn't doubt for a moment that Anthony knew all about stuffing bodies in trunks. Anthony was an expediter for a construction company. If you treated Anthony right, your construction project moved along without a hitch. If you decided you didn't need Anthony's services, you were likely to have a fire. Connie locked the office, and we all piled into the Firebird.

Twenty minutes into the trip Anton Ward came to life and started yelling and kicking inside the trunk. It wasn't that loud from where I was sitting, but it was unnerving. What must he be feeling? Anger, panic, fear. What was

I feeling? Compassion? No. In spite of Connie's expert assurances,

I was worried Ward would die, and we'd have to bury him in the dark of night in the Pine Barrens. I was going straight to hell for this, I thought. It was all adding up. I was for sure beyond Hail Marys.

This guy's creeping me out,' Lula said. She punched a number on her CD player and drowned Ward out with rap.

Ten minutes later I could feel my cell phone vibrating. It was hooked to my Kevlar vest, and I couldn't hear the ring over the rap, but I could feel the vibration.

I flipped the phone open and yelled, 'What?'

It was Morelli. 'Tell me you didn't bond out Ward.'

'There's a lot of static here,' I said. 'I can't hardly hear you.'

'Maybe it would help if you turned the radio down. Where the hell are you, anyway?'

I made crackling, static sounds, disconnected, and shut my phone off.

Hard to tell when the yelling and kicking stopped, but there were no sounds coming from the trunk when Lula parked in Vinnie's driveway and cut the engine.

It was still raining, and the street was dark. No lights shining from any of the houses. The ocean roiled in the distance, the waves thundering down onto the sand and then swooshing up the beach.

It was pitch black when we huddled around the rear end of the

Firebird. I had a flashlight. Connie had the stun gun. Lula was hands free to open the trunk.

'Here goes,' Lula said. 'Here's the plan. Soon as I get the lid up we want Stephanie to shine the light in his eyes in case the blankets come undone, and then Connie can zap him.'

Lula opened the trunk. I switched the light on and aimed it at

Ward. Connie leaned forward to zap Ward, and he kicked out at Connie. He caught Connie square in the chest and knocked her back four feet onto her keister. The stun gun flew out of Connie's hand and disappeared into the darkness.

'Shit,' Connie said, scrambling to get to her feet. I ditched the flashlight, and Lula and I wrestled Ward out of the trunk. He was bucking and swearing, still wrapped in the blanket.

We lost our grip and dropped him twice before we got him into the house. As soon as we were in the kitchen, we dropped him again.

Connie closed and locked the kitchen door, and we stood there breathing hard, dripping wet, gaping at the pissed-off guy writhing around on the linoleum. He stopped wriggling when the blanket fell away.

He had big baggy homey pants that had slipped off his boney ass and were around his knees. He was wearing cotton boxers with red and white stripes. His oversize four-hundred-dollar basketball shoes were unlaced in hood fashion. He looked pretty bad, but it was an improvement over the last time I saw him.

'This is kidnapping,' he said. 'You can't do this, bitch.'

'Of course we can,' Lula told him. 'We're bounty hunters. We kidnap people all the time.'

'Well, maybe not all the time,' I said.

Connie looked pained. Kidnapping wasn't actually allowed. We could detain and transport people if we had the right documentation.

'If you stop flopping around we'll stand you up and sit you on a chair,' I told him.

'We'll even pull your pants up, so we don't have to look at Mr Droopy hanging out,' Lula said. 'I've seen enough of Mr Droopy to last a long time. It's not that great.'

We dragged him to his feet, pulled his pants up, and plopped him onto one of the wooden kitchen chairs, securing him with a length of rope that we wrapped and knotted around his chest and the chair back.

'You're at our mercy now,' Lula said. 'You're going to tell us what we want to know.'

'Yeah, right. I'm real scared.'

'You should be scared. If you don't start talking about Junkman, I'm gonna hit you one.'

Ward gave a bark of laughter.

'Okay, that's it. I guess we have to persuade you,' Lula said. 'Go ahead, Stephanie, make him talk.'

'What?'

'Go ahead and hurt him. Slap him around.'

'You're going to have to excuse us for a moment,' I said to Ward.

'I need to talk to my associates in private.'

I pulled Lula and Connie into the living room. 'I can't slap him around,' I said.

'Why not?' Lula wanted to know.

'I've never slapped anyone around before.'

'So?'

'So, I can't just walk up to him and hit him. Its different when someone attacks you, and you get lost in the heat of the moment.'

'No, it's not,' Lula said. 'You just be thinking he hit you first. You just walk up to him, and you imagine him punching you in the face.

And then you punch him back. Once you get started, I bet you'll like it.'

'Why don't you hit him?'

'I could if I wanted,' Lula said.

'Well, then?'

'I just don't think it's my place. I mean, you're the one needs to know about Junkman. And you're the bounty hunter. I'm just a bounty hunter assistant. I figured you'd want to do it.'

'You figured wrong.'

'Boy, I never had you figured for chicken,' Lula said.

Unh. I walked back to Ward and stood in front of him. 'Last chance,' I said.

He waggled his tongue at me and spit on my shoe.

I made a fist, and I told myself I was going to hit him. But I didn't hit him. My fist stopped just short of his face, and my knuckles sort of bumped against his forehead.

'That's pathetic,' Lula said.

I dragged Lula and Connie back into the living room.

'I can't hit him,' I said. 'Someone else is going to have to hit him.'

Lula and I looked at Connie.

'Fine,' she said. 'Get out of my way.'

Connie marched up to Ward, squared her shoulders, and gave him a light slap.

'Jeez,' Lula said. 'Is that bitch slap the best you can do?'

'I'm an office manager,' Connie said. 'What do you want from me?'

'Well, I guess it's up to me,' Lula said. 'But I'm pretty rough when I get going. He'll be all bruised and bloody and cut up and stuff. We might get into trouble for that.'

'She has a point,' I said to Connie. It'd be best if he didn't look too beat up.'

'How about if we all kick him in the nuts,' Lula said.

We repaired to the living room.

'I can't kick him in the nuts,' Connie said.

'Me either,' I said. 'He's just sitting there. I can't kick a guy in the nuts when he's just sitting there. Maybe we should turn him loose. Then we could chase him around the house and get into the moment.'