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 MIDAFTERNOON 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 upstairs and root you out like the rodent you are and put his foot up your ass.”