Minutes later we were parked in the lot in front of Steven Wegan's apartment. We sat for a couple minutes, getting the feel of things. A woman left her apartment two doors down, got into her car, and drove off. Aside from that there was no activity.
'One of us should take the back door,' I said.
'Can't do that,' Tank said. 'My first job is to protect you and I can't do that if I can't see you.'
'No one followed us here. I was watching.'
Tank went stony. An unmovable object.
'Fine,' I said, 'we'll both take the front door.'
We left the truck, crossed the lot, and I rang Wegan's bell.
Wegan answered on the first ring. You've got to love first-time offenders. They don't know the drill. Next time around Wegan will be out the back door, hiding in the Dumpster.
He was a slim five feet, eight inches with close-cut brown hair and dark brown eyes. His papers listed his age as twenty-six. He was unmarried.
'Yes?' Wegan said, looking first to me, then up at Tank. The gears were turning in Wegan's head when he looked at Tank. Tank wasn't someone you wanted to unexpectedly find on your doorstep.
'Steven Wegan?' I asked.
Wegan swallowed. 'Un-hunh.'
I introduced myself and explained to Wegan that he missed his court date and needed to re-file. Wegan bobbed his head yes, but his eyes were saying no, no, no.
I reached back and took hold of the cuffs secured under my skirt waistband. Wegan went white, turned, and bolted. And before I could make a move, Tank effortlessly grabbed Wegan by the scruff of his neck and held him two inches off the floor. Wegan kicked out and then went limp. Tank gave Wegan a shake, causing Wegan's feet to flop around. 'I'm going to put you down now,' Tank said. 'And you're not going to try anything stupid, right?'
'R-r-r-right,' Wegan said.
I cuffed Wegan, we secured his apartment, and we all marched over to Tank's SUV. We put Wegan in the backseat, cuffed and shackled.
I couldn't help thinking it would have played out differently if Tank hadn't been along. Lula and I would have chased Wegan all over his apartment, knocking over lamps and chairs in the process. We would have snagged him eventually, but the capture would have been total Abbott and Costello.
'Do all your captures go like that?' I asked Tank.
'No,' he said. 'They don't always try to run.'
It was mid-afternoon when we left the police station. Wegan was back behind bars. Tomorrow morning he'd go before the judge who would once again set bail, higher this time. Vinnie would get a call from a pleading Wegan, and for another bonding fee, Wegan would walk.
We stopped off at Cluck in a Bucket for a late lunch and then motored over to the Burg to try our luck with Butchy. We parked across the street and looked up at Butchy's open windows. Television sounds drifted out to us. Butchy was home. We crossed the street and took our places on the small stoop that served as a front porch.
'Do you know this guy?' Tank asked.
'Yeah.'
'Is he going to shoot at us?'
'Depends how drunk he is.'
Tank drew his gun and I rang the bell. No answer to the bell. I rang again. Still no answer.
'He's not coming down,' Tank said.
I called Butchy on my cell phone.
'Yeah?' Butchy said,
'It's Stephanie Plum,' I told him. 'I'm downstairs with my partner and we need to talk to you.'
'So go ahead and talk.'
'You missed your court date and you need to reschedule.'
'And?'
'And you need to do it now. Come downstairs and open the door.'
'Suck my dick,' Butchy said.
'Sure,' I told him. 'Just come down and open the door.'
'Fuck off,' Butchy said. 'I don't feel like going to jail today. Why don't you come back next month. Maybe I'll feel like going to jail next month.'
I told Tank to back up and stand on the sidewalk where Butchy could see him.
'Look out your window, Butchy,' I said. 'See the big guy standing on the sidewalk?'
'Yeah.'
'That's my partner. If you don't open the door, he's going to put his foot through it. And then he's going to go
