'You don't need to get rid of anyone,' I said. 'It'll just slow you down. You should leave now before someone finds you.'

'I can't. Don't you understand? He's ruining it. I hate him. He's stolen my destiny. He has my identity.'

Oh boy. 'Why Ranger?' I asked.

'I was supposed to be him. The minute I saw him I knew. I was working in this dorky record store, and one day he came in with his partner and arrested some slimebag. It was like a movie. He was all dressed in black like a SWAT guy, and he just walked up to this creep and cuffed him. He was wearing a gun, but he didn't draw. He just cuffed him and marched him out. Man, it was so cool. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized something went wrong. I was supposed to be him. I even look like him. So I asked the guard at the door who he was, and I started finding out about him. That he was a bounty hunter and all. I figured I had to find a way to get what was mine, you know, like my identity, my destiny. Before that I was going to be a cop. I was all set. I was working part-time at another mall doing security, waiting for my cop job to start. So it was lucky it all happened when it did, because I might have been a cop, and that would have been all wrong.'

'Couldn't Edward Scrog be a bounty hunter?'

'I guess, but it wouldn't be right. It got mixed up somehow. I just knew I was supposed to take over. I always knew I'd have to kill him. I always knew it was just a matter of time,' Scrog said. 'I had to get my ducks in a row first.' He squinched his eyes together. 'This headache is bad. I can hardly think.'

'Maybe you should lie down. Sleep it off.'

'I can't. I have to be ready. He's going to come here. I can feel it. He's living here with you. All his stuffs here. I just have to kill him, and then I can get some sleep.' Scrog had his head down, between his knees. 'As soon as I kill him it'll all get better.'

I glanced over at Julie and realized her color was improved. She was still slack-faced and slumped in the chair, but she was watching Scrog through slitty eyes. The drug was wearing off, I thought.

It had to be maybe nine-thirty. It was true that Ranger had his computer here, but that wasn't reason enough for him to return. I'd told him he was evicted. I wasn't sure what would happen as the evening wore on and Ranger didn't show. I worried Scrog would become more erratic, more desperate.

'Ranger isn't living here anymore,' I said. 'He was just staying here because the police were looking for him, and he couldn't go home. Now that the police aren't looking for him he'll go back to RangeMan.'

'I don't believe you. His clothes are here. His computer is here. He was staying here so I couldn't get to you.' His hands were at his head again, and he was rocking with the pain. 'I hate him. I hate him. And he isn't Ranger. Stop calling him that. I'm Ranger.'

I looked over at Julie, and her eyes tracked to me. Her lids were still lowered, but her eyes were clear and focused. Julie was faking the drug.

'My hands hurt,' I said to Scrog. 'You have me all taped up to this chair. Why do I have to be handcuffed, too? If you'd just take the cuffs off, I'll be good. I swear.'

'You broke my nose! You're a maniac. Those cuffs aren't coming off until you're cold and dead.'

'It was an accident,' I said. 'I was-'

'Shut up!' he said, pointing the gun at me. 'If you don't shut up I'll kill you now. The only reason you're alive is so you can see him die, but I'll kill you now if it's the only way to shut you up.'

We all sat in silence for what seemed like a long time. Julie was slumped in her fake drug-induced slumber. I squirmed in my seat, hoping to little by little stretch out the tape. Scrog stayed vigilant in his chair, breathing heavy, cradling his gun in his lap, never letting go of the gun.

The only sound in the apartment was the occasional squeak of Rex's wheel. And then we all heard the lock tumble on my front door.

Scrog was out of his chair, moving forward toward the foyer. He flattened himself to the living room wall and took the safety off the gun. 'If you say anything,' he whispered to me, 'I'll shoot the girl.'

His face was flushed, and his eyes were feverish and crazy, and I absolutely believed him.

I saw Julie's hand clench and then release. She was fighting to stay slack in the chair.

I had my heart in my throat. I thought chances were better that Morelli would walk through the door than Ranger. Someone was going to get shot, and I was powerless to stop it.

Twenty-four

The door opened and closed. There was a moment of silence and then the soft sound of unhurried footsteps. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I didn't know what to wish… Scrog was going to shoot whoever walked into the living room. He had the gun raised and ready, two-handing it for accuracy. One of the men in my life was about to be eliminated. I was sacrificing him for a little girl. A sob escaped from somewhere deep in my throat, disturbing the silence. Scrog didn't hear the sob. Scrog was concentrating on the slight rustle of clothes and scuff of shoes on carpet.

And then Ranger appeared in the living room. He was back to his SWAT uniform of black cargo pants and long-sleeved black collared shirt, rolled to the elbow. Our eyes met and there was no shock of surprise in Ranger's eyes. He had hands raised. He'd walked in knowing Scrog was here. He turned his head and looked directly at Scrog. And Scrog shot him.

I didn't know how many rounds went into Ranger. It was a blur of sound and movement. The force of the gunshot knocked him back. He crumpled to the floor and Scrog moved over him. Scrog looked at him for a moment, gun poised. 'Execution time,' Scrog said.

'No!' Julie shrieked, catapulting herself out of the chair. She flew into Scrog, clawing at him, eyes wild. They went to the carpet with Julie scratching and kicking and screaming. The gun fell out of Scrog's hand. They both lunged for the gun. There was a shot. Scrog scrambled away from Julie. She had the gun. She aimed and fired. A bloodstain flowered on Scrog's shirt. She was about to shoot again, and the room filled with people. Trenton cops, federal agents, paramedics. Morelli.

Morelli had me up and walking around. I couldn't remember getting the cuffs removed or the tape cut away. I clung to Morelli, and I couldn't breathe. They brought oxygen to me, but I still couldn't breathe. From the corner of my eye I could see them working over Ranger. Hooking him to an IV, shouting orders, running with equipment. And I just couldn't breathe. I was crying and choking and there wasn't enough air in the room.

Morelli scooped me up and carried me outside to the hall, away from the insanity in the apartment. He was talking to me, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. He moved me flat to the wall, and they came through with Ranger. They had the elevator doors open and waiting. They rolled him past me. His eyes were closed. Oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. Shirt cut away. Blood everywhere.

Julie was running beside the stretcher, her hand clenched onto the strap holding Ranger secure. Someone tried to stop her, and she slapped him away.

'This is my father,' she said. I'm going with him.'

Morelli turned to me with a small rueful smile. 'The apple didn't fall far from the tree with that one.'

I nodded.

'Do you want to follow them to the hospital?' Morelli asked.

I nodded again.

Morelli took me down the stairs and through the lobby. Ranger was already on his way out of the lot when we walked through the doors. A black RangeMan SUV followed the EMS truck.

Morelli buckled me in and ran around to the driver's side. 'He might be okay,' Morelli said. 'They'll know more when they get him into x-ray. He was wearing a vest. From what I could see he took four in the chest. One of them penetrated. Maybe not entirely. Even if it hadn't, at that close range they'd knock him out. He took two more. One in the shoulder and one sliced into his neck. It was the neck wound that produced all the blood. Sunny Raspich was working EMT, and he said he thought it looked worse than it actually was. He said it looked like a clean slice that didn't hit anything vital.'