Connie and I gave Lula a cold ten-second stare.

'Yeah?' Lula asked.

'We just spent an hour doing your filing so we could find the paperwork on three new skips,' Connie said.

'You didn't have to do that,' Lula said. 'I got a system.'

'You weren't here,' Connie said. 'Where the hell were you? You were supposed to be here at nine.'

'I'm never here at nine on Saturdays. I'm always late on Saturdays. Everybody knows that.' Lula poured herself a cup of coffee. 'Did you hear the news? I was listening to the radio on the way in and they said the Red Devil robbed the deli-mart on Commerce Street this morning. And he shot the clerk ten times in the head. That's a lot of times to get shot in the head.'

The Red Devil again. Getting more bold. More ruthless. It seemed like years had passed since my Escape got fried and Eddie got shot. I dropped into my seat at the desk and added Connie's search information to the three files.

Shoshanna Brown was wanted for possession. She was a repeater. I'd picked Shoshanna up for priors, and I knew she wouldn't be hard to find. Probably she didn't have a ride to court.

Jamil Rodriguez was caught shoplifting a variety of electronics from Circuit City. When they searched him they found a loaded Glock, a box cutter, a sandwich bag filled with Ecstasy, and a human thumb in a sealed vial of formaldehyde. He claimed to have no knowledge of the thumb.

Anton Ward had a high bond. He'd gotten into a fight with his girlfriend and had stabbed her repeatedly with a steak knife. The girlfriend had lived, but she wasn't happy with Anton. Anton had made bail but had failed to show for court. He was nineteen with no priors. Or at least no priors as an adult. Vinnie had a notation on Ward's bond document that there were gang tattoos on Wards arm.

One of the tattoos was a paw print accompanied by the letters CSS.

Ward was a Comstock Street Slayer.

I paged through the file, looking for the photo. The first photo was a profile. The second was full on. I saw the second photo and froze. Anton Ward was the Red Devil.

'You don't look too good,' Lula said. 'Are you okay? You look whiter than usual.'

'This is the devil guy.'

Connie grabbed the file. 'Are you sure?'

'It's been five days, but I'm pretty sure that's him.'

'I didn't give him to you when I ran the neighborhood check because I couldn't find him,' Connie said. 'I didn't have time to go through the stacks of unfiled folders.'

'Oops,' Lula said.

Connie looked through the folder and read from the computer search. 'Anton Ward. Dropped out of high school when he was sixteen. No work history. Lives with his brother.' She flipped to the bond document. 'His bond was secured by someone named Francine Taylor. She put her house up as collateral. Vinnie has a note that the daughter, Lauralene, is very pregnant, very young, and expecting to marry Anton Ward.' Connie handed the file back to me. 'I hate to give this to you. Ordinarily this would go to Ranger.'

'No problem,' I said. 'I'm turning it over to the police.' Trenton PD didn't have the manpower to pursue every skip. This was fine by me because it meant my job was secure. Anton Ward would be different. He was involved in a cop shooting and a possible murder.

Trenton PD would find the manpower to go after Anton Ward.

I called Morelli and told him about Ward.

'I don't want you anywhere near this guy,' Morelli said.

I felt the muscles knot around my spine. Morelli's a cop. He's Italian, I told myself. He can't help himself. Cut him some slack.

'Could you rephrase that?' I asked Morelli. 'I think what you meant was be careful.'

'I said exactly what I meant. I don't want you anywhere near Anton Ward.'

So here's the unfortunate truth. I called Morelli because I didn't want to go anywhere near Anton Ward. Problem is, when Morelli issues it as a demand my ears go flat against my head, my eyes narrow, and I take a stance with my head down, ready to lock horns. I don't know why I do this. I think it might have something to do with curly hair and being born in Jersey. And needless to say, this isn't the first time it's happened.

'And I suppose it's okay for you to go after him?' I said to Morelli.

'I'm a cop. We go after criminals. That's why you called me, right?'

'And I'm a fugitive apprehension agent.'

'Don't take this the wrong way,' Morelli said, 'but you're not a great apprehension agent.'

'I get the job done.'

'You're a magnet for disaster.'

'Okay, hotshot,' I said. 'I'll give you twenty-four hours to get him… and then he's mine.'

I put my phone back into my bag and looked over at Lula.

'Guess you told him,' Lula said. 'If it was me I would have given him forever. To begin with, those people all live over in Slayerland. And if you want to think about something else, Anton hasn't got a lot to lose being that he just made Swiss cheese outta someone's head.'

'I got carried away.'

'No shit. And how are you expecting to find someone Morelli can't find? Morelli's good.'

Morelli'd issued his ultimatum before I'd finished giving him all the information. 'Morelli doesn't know about Lauralene Taylor. And, as we all know, the girlfriend is always the ticket to the slap.'

'I'm hoping he don't need Lauralene on account of I don't want to have to follow your ass into Slayerland,' Lula said.

I tucked the three new files into my bag. 'Lauralene doesn't live in Slayerland. She lives on Hancock Street.'

'Hey, that's my neighborhood,' Lula said.

Lula leaned over me and sniffed. 'Boy, that Ranger truck smell stays with you. You've been outa that truck for a whole day, and you still smell like Ranger.' She took a step back. There's something different about you. I can't put my finger on it.'

'She's fat,' Connie said.

Lula's face creased into a broad smile. 'That's it. Look at those chubby cheeks and that bootie. And you got love handles that go all the way around. You go, girl, you're on your way to being a big woman like Lula.'

I looked down at myself. They were right! I had a roll of fat hanging over the waistband of my jeans. Where'd that come from?

I was almost certain it wasn't there last night.

I ran into the bathroom and examined my face in the mirror.

Definite chubbiness. Apple cheeks. Two chins. Shit. It was the stress. Stress released a hormone that made you fat, right? I was pretty sure I read that somewhere. I checked out my jeans again.

I'd had a stomachache all morning. Now I knew why. I popped the top snap and felt some relief as more fat oozed out.

I went back to Lula and Connie. 'Its the stress,' I said. 'It's releasing hormones that are making me fat.'

'Good thing I brought doughnuts with me,' Lula said. 'Have one of the chocolate-covered cream-filled and you'll feel better. Don't want to let that stress grab hold of you.'

Connie let me out the back door and locked up after me. We'd filed the remaining folders and eaten all the doughnuts. Connie was going to a baby shower at the firehouse this afternoon. Lula had a hair appointment. I was going to spend the day being careful.

I slipped out of the alley, wearing the hooded sweatshirt with the hood up, and I did a fast scan of the side street. No gang guys in baggy pants and do-rags waiting to gun me down. Good deal.

I cruised into the Burg, and I parked one street over from my parents' house. I walked head down around the block, cut through the Krezwickis' yard, and hopped the fence into my parents' backyard.

My mother shrieked when she saw me at the back door. 'Holy mother,' she said, hand over her heart. 'I didn't recognize you at first. What are you doing with the hood up on that sweatshirt? You look like a maniac.'

'I was chilly.'

She put her hand to my forehead. 'Are you coming down with something? There's a lot of flu going around.'