Free High Five by Janet Evanovich

you have clues or something?”
    â€œNo. No clues. Nothing.”
    â€œI thought you were supposed to be this hotshot detective.”
    â€œI’m not a detective at all. I’m a bail enforcement agent.”
    â€œBounty hunter.”
    â€œYeah. Bounty hunter.”
    â€œSo, that’s okay. You go out and find people. That’s what we want to have happen here.”
    â€œHow much money did Fred owe you?”
    â€œEnough that I want it. Not enough to make a man feel like he had to disappear. I’m a pretty nice guy, you know. It isn’t like I go around breaking people’s knees ’cause they don’t pay up. Well, okay, so sometimes I might break a knee, but it’s not like it happens every day.”
    I rolled my eyes.
    â€œYou know what I think you should do?” Bunchy said. “I think you should go check at his bank. See if he’s taken any money out. I can’t do things like that on account of I look like I might break people’s knees. But you’re a pretty girl. You probably got a friend works in the bank. People would want to do a favor for you.”
    â€œI’ll think about it. Now go away.”
    Bunchy ambled to the door. He took a beat-up brown leather jacket from one of the pegs on the wall and turned to look at me. His expression was serious. “Find him.”
    What hung unsaid in the air was . . . or else.
    I slipped the bolt behind him. First chance I had I was going to have to get a new lock. Surely someone made a lock that actually kept people out.
    I called my mother back and explained to her that I hadn’t blown someone up. He’d sort of blown himself up with some help from an old lady in a pink nightgown.
    â€œYou could have a good job,” my mother said. “You could take lessons from that place that advertises on television and teaches you to be a computer operator.”
    â€œI have to go now.”
    â€œHow about dinner. I’m making a nice pot roast with potatoes and gravy.”
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œPineapple upside-down cake for dessert.”
    â€œOkay. I’ll be there at six.”
    I erased the breathing messages and told myself they were wrong numbers. But in my heart, I knew the breather.
    I double-checked all the locks on my door, and I checked to make sure my windows were secure and no one was hiding in a closet or under the bed. I took a long, hot shower, wrapped myself in a towel, stepped out of the bathroom . . . and came face-to-face with Ranger.

 
FOUR
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    â€œY IKES !”
I JUMPED back and clapped my hand to my chest, tightening my towel. “What are you doing here?” I yelled at Ranger.
    His eyes dropped to the towel and then back to my face. “Returning your hat, Babe.” He put the SEALs hat on my head and adjusted it over my damp hair. “You left it in the lobby.”
    â€œOh. Thanks.”
    Ranger smiled.
    â€œWhat?” I asked.
    â€œCute,” Ranger said.
    I narrowed my eyes. “Anything else?”
    â€œYou doing the shift with Tank tonight?”
    â€œYou’re still policing that building?”
    â€œIt’s got a big hole in it, Babe. Gotta keep the bad guys out.”
    â€œI’ll pass on that one.”
    â€œNo problem. I have other jobs you can try on.”
    â€œOh, yeah? Like what?”
    Ranger shrugged. “Things turn up.” He reached behind him and came up with a gun. My gun. “Found this in the lobby, too.”
    He tucked the gun under the top edge of my towel, wedging it between my breasts, his knuckles brushing against me.
    My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment I thought my towel might catch fire.
    Ranger smiled again. And I did more eye narrowing.
    â€™I’ll be in touch,” Ranger said.
    And then he was gone.
    Dang. I carefully extracted the gun from the towel and put it in the cookie jar in the kitchen. Then I went back to my door to examine the