front door to my apartment close and lock. I didn't expect an answer, but I felt compelled to call out to Morelli as a test. I waited a few moments, holding my breath, listening to the silence. Morelli seemed to be gone. My fingers curled tighter around the phone. God help the phone company if they'd reneged on their promise to resume my service. I climbed onto the edge of the tub to bring myself up to the height of my secured hand. I carefully extended the antenna, pushed the on button, and put my ear to the handset. The dial tone sang out loud and clear. I was so relieved I almost burst into tears.
Now I was faced with a new problem. Who to call? The police and the fire company were out. They'd roar into my parking lot with their lights flashing, and by the time they got to my door, forty senior citizens would be standing in my hall in their jammies, waiting to see what all the excitement was about, waiting for an explanation.
I'd come to realize there were certain peculiarities about the seniors in my building. They were vicious when it came to parking, and they had a fascination for emergencies that bordered on the ghoulish. At the first hint of a flashing light, every senior in my building had their nose pressed to the window glass.
I also could do without four or five of the city's finest leering at me chained naked to my shower curtain rod.
If I called my mother, I'd have to move out of state because she'd never let up. And besides, she'd send my father, and then my father would see me naked. Being naked and handcuffed in front of my father wasn't something I could visualize.
If I called my sister, she'd call my mother.
I'd hang here and rot before I'd call my ex-husband.
To make it even more complicated, whoever came to rescue me was either going to have to climb the fire escape or jimmy the front door. I could only come up with one name. I squeezed my eyes shut. "Shit." I was going to have to call Ranger. I took a deep breath and tapped out his number, praying I'd remembered it correctly.
It took only one ring for him to pick up. "Yo."
"Ranger?"
"Who wants to know?"
"Stephanie Plum. I have a problem."
There was a pause two beats long, and I could imagine him coming alert, sitting up in bed. "What's the problem?"
I rolled my eyes, only half believing I was making this phone call. "I'm handcuffed to my shower curtain rod, and I need someone to open the cuffs."
Another pause and he disconnected.
I redialed, punching the buttons so hard I almost broke a finger.
"Yo!" Ranger said, sounding good and pissed off.
"Don't hang up! This is serious, dammit. I'm trapped in my bathroom. My front door is locked and no one has a key."
"Why don't you call the cops? They love this rescue shit."
"Because I don't want to have to explain to the cops. And besides, I'm naked."
"Heh, heh, heh."
"It's not funny. Morelli broke into my apartment while I was in the shower, and the son of a bitch handcuffed me to the shower rod."
"You gotta like the guy."
"Are you going to help me, or what?"
"Where do you live?"
"The apartment building at the corner of St. James and Dunworth. Apartment 215. It's a rear apartment. Morelli got in by climbing the fire escape and going through the window. You can probably do the same."
I couldn't actually blame Morelli for cuffing me to the curtain rod. After all, I had sort of stolen his car. And I could understand that he needed to keep me out of the way while he searched my apartment. I might even be able to forgive him for destroying my shower curtain in a show of macho force, but he went too far when he left me hanging here naked. If he thought this would discourage me, he was wrong. This whole deal was now in the ballpark of double-dare, and childish as it might be, I was not going to walk away from the challenge. I'd get Morelli or die trying.
I'd been standing in the tub for what seemed like hours when I heard my front door open and close. The steam from the shower had long ago dissipated and the air had turned cool. My hand was numb from being held overhead. I was exhausted and hungry and had the beginnings of a