I was just hoping to buy some time and get us out in the open where we might be seen. Ranger was in tracking mode, sniffing the bushes like Bob on a rampage. And if I was lucky enough to make the capture, I'd have a chance to pass information on. I'd have to walk my FTA into the police station.

'Who is this guy?' Scrog wanted to know.

'Lonnie Johnson. Wanted for armed robbery. He didn't show for his court appearance. Lula and I went after him but he disappeared from the face of the earth. Then yesterday he popped back into the area. I have a new address for him.'

'And he'd be worth five thousand dollars?'

'Yep.'

'Maybe I should just ransom you for the money.'

'Ransoming takes time. All that back-and-forth negotiating. And then the FBI gets involved. And you have to give directions for making the money drop. Anyway, I thought you wanted to be a bounty hunter.'

'Is this address a sure thing?'

'I don't know. We couldn't do a phone verification. He tried to get a line of credit, and he gave an address.'

'Tell me how this is gonna get us the money again.'

'We make the capture. I turn him over to the police. Connie gives me the money I've earned.'

'I'm a little fuzzy on the part where we turn him over to the police. You don't think I'm going to let you walk into the police station, do you?'

'That's usually the way it works.'

'Boy, you must think I'm stupid. You'll go in there and blab everything.'

'Okay, I have another idea. Lonnie Johnson shot a guy who was servicing an automatic teller, and Johnson walked away with $32,000 and change. I'm betting he's still got most of it. Suppose we rob Lonnie Johnson?'

'You mean we like, take him down and force him to tell us where the money is?'

'Yeah.'

I knew in my heart that Lonnie Johnson pissed away every cent he stole. The fact that he was trying to get a loan to buy a car would seem to support my theory. No point bothering Scrog with this line of reasoning.

'Okay, I guess I don't see any harm in trying,' Scrog said. 'You're going to have to strap the bomb on though and I swear if you do anything stupid I'll blow you to bits.'

I got the bomb strapped on, and I looked over at him. 'Unlock the ankle bracelet. If we go out now, we might catch him at home.'

Scrog stepped back. He had the little detonator in one hand, and he threw the key onto the bed with the other. I unlocked the shackle and skated the key back to him across the linoleum floor.

'Now you have to get dressed in your bounty hunter clothes,' he said. 'If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right. We need to look like a couple bad asses.'

'Sure,' I said, 'but you have to get dressed up too.'

'Don't worry about me. I'll be dressed.'

I went into the little bathroom and wriggled into the black leather pants. I took the T-shirt off and put the vest on and stepped out. 'What about the bomb?' I said. 'You can see I have a bomb strapped to my stomach.'

Julie was on the bed behind me. 'That's not all you can see,' she said, giggling.

Scrog had changed into black leather pants and a black T-shirt and was wearing a black leather Sam Brown belt armed with cuffs and stun gun and Glock. It was better than the ladies' dress, but he sure as hell was no Ranger. Ranger would crack a smile at the thought of someone impersonating him in leather pants.

'Put the T-shirt on over the vest,' Scrog said. 'It's the best we can do right now.'

I dropped the T-shirt over my head and walked ahead of Scrog, out of the motor home. I stood blinking in the bright sunlight, waiting for my eyes to adjust, trying not to get hysterical over the fact that I had a bomb strapped to my stomach.

'Jeez,' Scrog said. 'Now that you're out in the sun you look like the Bride of Frankenstein. Can't you do something with your hair?'

'Maybe if you'd stop running electricity through me my hair would look better! Ever think of that? And what do you think, hair just happens? I need a roller brush. I need gel and hair spray and a hair dryer. Next time you rob something, make it a hair salon.'

'Cripes, just trying to be helpful. I figured you cared about your appearance.'

'If I cared about my appearance I wouldn't be wearing these butt-crack pants,' I snapped back at him.

'Yeah, they're kind of small,' he said. 'Maybe you should lay off the doughnuts.'

I thought this was a good chance to get hysterical and try to rattle Scrog.

'You have a lot of nerve,' I said, all emotional. 'All you brought me to eat for breakfast was cake and candy. If I'm so fat, why didn't you bring me some fruit? You didn't even bring me coffee. All I wanted was coffee. Was that so much to ask?'

And to my surprise I'd actually popped out a couple tears and gotten my nose to run a little.

'I'm sorry!' Scrog said. 'Hold it down, will you? I'll get you some coffee. I swear to God, this isn't turning out like I thought.' Scrog opened the trunk on the car. 'Get in, and we'll go get coffee.'

'I'm not getting into the trunk! I've got a bomb strapped to me,' I said, hiccupping back sobs that were only half fake. 'What if I roll around? And anyway, it's demeaning. How would you feel if I made you ride in the trunk?'

I couldn't believe I was actually saying this. Demeaning. How was I thinking of this crap?

'It's so you can't see where we are. It's for your own good.'

I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. 'It's not for my own good if I blow myself up.'

'Oh man, you have to stop crying. You got mascara running all down your face.'

'It's all your fault. You started it. You said I was fat.'

'I didn't say you were fat. You're putting words in my mouth. Hell, get in the car. I'm starting to think it would be a relief to go to jail.'

'This is a nice car,' I said, buckling myself in. 'Is it new?'

'Yeah, I picked it up this morning when I went out for breakfast.'

'You should steal a Lexus next time. I hear they're really comfy.'

'I'll keep that in mind.'

'We're coming out of the woods now, so I want you to close your eyes and put your head down so you can't see.'

'Oh, for crying out loud.'

'Just do it. I'm ready to blow you up just to shut you up.'

I thought I'd pushed him about as far as I could, so I bent in my seat and put my head between my knees. The car swerved off the dirt road and skidded to a stop in a patch of grass.

'What the heck was that?' I yelled.

'Shoot, I'm sorry,' Scrog said. 'But you haven't got much leather back there when you bend over like that.'

I pulled the T-shirt down. 'If you were a gentleman you wouldn't look.'

'Wasn't my fault. I was just about blinded by all that white ass.'

I felt my eyes bug out of my head. 'Excuse me? All that white ass?'

'That didn't come out good,' Scrog said. 'I didn't mean it exactly that way. You're not gonna start crying again, are you?'

'Just drive. Just get the heck back on the road.'

'Actually, after looking at your uh, backside, I wouldn't mind taking some time here to get better acquainted, if you know what I mean.'

'Let me get this straight. You have me wired to explode and now you want to get friendly?'

'Well, yeah.'

'I am so sorry to tell you that as long as I am a walking bomb I am not engaging in friendly activities. If you want to get friendly you're going to have to take this bomb off me.'

'I can't do that. Last time I wasn't careful with you, you kicked me in the head.'

I wasn't sure what to say to that. First chance I got I was going to shoot him in the head, but I didn't want to spook him. I folded my arms across my chest and tried to look petulant. I'd never looked petulant before but it seemed like it fit the role I was playing.

'Is that no?' he asked.