in the mix
were random fans and special-interest protestors hoping to get a
spot on the evening news. Ranger got out first, then Brenda, and
then the rest of us. Brenda posed for photos and made her way
through the big glass doors into the lobby. The local anchor was
waiting for an interview. Brenda stepped up to the anchor, and the
circle of fans and photographers closed in. ”We need space,“ the
anchor said. ”I'm on it,“ Lula told her. ”You people better back
up, or I'm gonna sit on you. Oops, did I step on your foot with my
high heels? “Scuse me. Sorry I got you with my elbow. Coming back.
Beep, beep, beep. I got a gun... you better listen to me.” “Do you
really have a gun?” the anchor asked. "Sure I got a gun. What kind
of half-assed security would I be without a gun?
“Course, I'm just moonlighting here for a friend. Stephanie and
me are mostly bounty hunters. And I sing with a band. You might
want to have me on your show sometime. I got moves.” Lula snapped
her fingers and stuck out a hip. “Woo!” she said. Ranger had me by
the back of my jacket. “Get her out of here before she tells them
she works for me. I'll get Hal to help me with Brenda.” I parked in
front of Morelli's house, and Morelli pulled in behind me. “That
was great,” Zook said. “Everyone at school's gonna be way jealous.
And Joe used the Kojak light to get us through traffic.” Morelli
opened the front door, and Bob bounced out at us. He ran to a patch
of wilted grass, tinkled, and ran back inside the house. I followed
Bob through the house to the kitchen. I gave Bob a dog biscuit, and
I looked in the freezer for ice cream. Hooray! A new tub of
chocolate. Morelli and I sat at the little kitchen table and ate
our ice cream. Zook took his into the living room and went online.
“Do you think he should be online at this hour?” I asked Morelli.
“It's a school night.” “When I was his age, I was stealing cars at
this time of the night, and you were sneaking out your parents'
bathroom window.” “Yeah, but we're on the other side now. We're
supposed to be smarter than Zook.” “I just spent half a day with
him, and I'm not sure I'm smarter. And I'm not sure I feel
comfortable being on the other side. It's like I fast-forwarded my
life by fifteen years.” “He's not here,” Zook said from the living
room. “Who?” I asked. “The griefer. Moondog. He's always here, but
now he's not.” “Maybe you and Grandma scared him off.” The doorbell
rang, and Morelli and I did raised eyebrows. It was late for
someone to be visiting. Morelli went to the door, and I trailed
behind. With the way things were going, it could be Dom or Loretta
or a cop with bad news. Morelli opened the door, and we both gaped
at the guy on the porch. He was my age and just under six feet
tall, with shoulder-length, light brown hair, parted in the middle.
He was slim and pale, dressed in baggy jeans and a Fruits Basket
T-shirt. “I'm looking for Zook,” he said. I switched the porch
light on and stared out at him. “Mooner?” He squinted back at me.
“Stephanie Plum?” He turned his attention to Morelli. “And the
dude! Whoa, this is too heavy. What's going on? You aren't Zook,
are you?” I'd gone to high school with Walter MoonMan Dunphy.
MoonMan was the class stoner and voted most likely to get adopted
by a little old lady. He drifted in and out of people's lives,
happy to get the occasional bowl of ice cream or cat kibble. He
used to live with two other losers on Grant Street, but last I
heard he'd moved back home with his mother. “I'm Zook,” Mario said
from the couch. Mooner looked in at him. “The little dude is Zook.
I can dig it. It's always a little dude.” “Who are you?” Zook
asked. “I'm Moondog.” “No way!” “Way, man,” Mooner said. “I hacked
this address. I wanted to see what you looked like. Man, you're
harsh. I was having a good run, and you rained on my parade. You
and Scorch. I'm, like, all bummed
were random fans and special-interest protestors hoping to get a
spot on the evening news. Ranger got out first, then Brenda, and
then the rest of us. Brenda posed for photos and made her way
through the big glass doors into the lobby. The local anchor was
waiting for an interview. Brenda stepped up to the anchor, and the
circle of fans and photographers closed in. ”We need space,“ the
anchor said. ”I'm on it,“ Lula told her. ”You people better back
up, or I'm gonna sit on you. Oops, did I step on your foot with my
high heels? “Scuse me. Sorry I got you with my elbow. Coming back.
Beep, beep, beep. I got a gun... you better listen to me.” “Do you
really have a gun?” the anchor asked. "Sure I got a gun. What kind
of half-assed security would I be without a gun?
“Course, I'm just moonlighting here for a friend. Stephanie and
me are mostly bounty hunters. And I sing with a band. You might
want to have me on your show sometime. I got moves.” Lula snapped
her fingers and stuck out a hip. “Woo!” she said. Ranger had me by
the back of my jacket. “Get her out of here before she tells them
she works for me. I'll get Hal to help me with Brenda.” I parked in
front of Morelli's house, and Morelli pulled in behind me. “That
was great,” Zook said. “Everyone at school's gonna be way jealous.
And Joe used the Kojak light to get us through traffic.” Morelli
opened the front door, and Bob bounced out at us. He ran to a patch
of wilted grass, tinkled, and ran back inside the house. I followed
Bob through the house to the kitchen. I gave Bob a dog biscuit, and
I looked in the freezer for ice cream. Hooray! A new tub of
chocolate. Morelli and I sat at the little kitchen table and ate
our ice cream. Zook took his into the living room and went online.
“Do you think he should be online at this hour?” I asked Morelli.
“It's a school night.” “When I was his age, I was stealing cars at
this time of the night, and you were sneaking out your parents'
bathroom window.” “Yeah, but we're on the other side now. We're
supposed to be smarter than Zook.” “I just spent half a day with
him, and I'm not sure I'm smarter. And I'm not sure I feel
comfortable being on the other side. It's like I fast-forwarded my
life by fifteen years.” “He's not here,” Zook said from the living
room. “Who?” I asked. “The griefer. Moondog. He's always here, but
now he's not.” “Maybe you and Grandma scared him off.” The doorbell
rang, and Morelli and I did raised eyebrows. It was late for
someone to be visiting. Morelli went to the door, and I trailed
behind. With the way things were going, it could be Dom or Loretta
or a cop with bad news. Morelli opened the door, and we both gaped
at the guy on the porch. He was my age and just under six feet
tall, with shoulder-length, light brown hair, parted in the middle.
He was slim and pale, dressed in baggy jeans and a Fruits Basket
T-shirt. “I'm looking for Zook,” he said. I switched the porch
light on and stared out at him. “Mooner?” He squinted back at me.
“Stephanie Plum?” He turned his attention to Morelli. “And the
dude! Whoa, this is too heavy. What's going on? You aren't Zook,
are you?” I'd gone to high school with Walter MoonMan Dunphy.
MoonMan was the class stoner and voted most likely to get adopted
by a little old lady. He drifted in and out of people's lives,
happy to get the occasional bowl of ice cream or cat kibble. He
used to live with two other losers on Grant Street, but last I
heard he'd moved back home with his mother. “I'm Zook,” Mario said
from the couch. Mooner looked in at him. “The little dude is Zook.
I can dig it. It's always a little dude.” “Who are you?” Zook
asked. “I'm Moondog.” “No way!” “Way, man,” Mooner said. “I hacked
this address. I wanted to see what you looked like. Man, you're
harsh. I was having a good run, and you rained on my parade. You
and Scorch. I'm, like, all bummed
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