Hard Eight by Janet Evanovich Page A

his chest, dead to the world. His wife sat on the tattered couch, eyes glued to the television.
    “I’m pretty sure we’re doing something illegal,” Kloughn whispered.
    “There’s all kinds of illegal. This is one of those things that’s only a little illegal.”
    “I guess it’s okay if you’re a bounty hunter. There are special rules for bounty hunters, right?”
    Right. And there really
is
an Easter bunny.
    I wanted to get into the apartment, but I didn’t wantto wake Bender. I walked around the building and carefully tried Bender’s back door. Locked. I returned to the front and found that door locked, too. I gave a couple light raps on the door with my knuckles, hoping to get the wife’s attention without waking Bender.
    Kloughn was looking in the window. He shook his head. No one was getting up to answer the door. I rapped louder. Nothing. Bender’s wife was concentrating on the television show. Damn. I rang the bell.
    Kloughn jumped away from the window and rushed to my side. “She’s coming!”
    The door opened, and Bender’s wife stood flat-footed in front of us. She was a large woman with pale skin, and a dagger tattooed on her arm. Her eyes were red-rimmed and dull. Her face expressionless. She wasn’t as wasted as her husband, but she was well on the way. She took a step back when I introduced myself.
    “Andy don’t like to be disturbed,” she said. “He gets in a real bad mood when he’s disturbed.”
    “Maybe you should go to a friend’s house, so you’re not here if Andy gets disturbed.” Last thing I wanted was for Andy to beat on his wife because she let us
disturb
him.
    She looked at her husband, still asleep in his chair. Then she looked at us. And then she took off, out the door, disappearing into the darkness.
    Kloughn and I tiptoed up to Bender and took a closer look.
    “Maybe he’s dead,” Kloughn said.
    “I don’t think so.”
    “He smells dead.”
    “He always smells like that.” I was prepared this time. I had my stun gun with me. I leaned forward, pressed mystun gun to Bender, and hit the juice button. Nothing happened. I examined the stun gun. It looked okay. I put it to Bender again. Nothing. Goddamn electronic piece of shit. Okay, go to backup plan. I grabbed the cuffs I had tucked into my back pocket and quietly clicked a bracelet on Bender’s right wrist.
    Bender’s eyes flew open. “What the hell?”
    I pulled his cuffed hand across his body and secured the second bracelet onto his left wrist.
    “Goddamn,” he yelled. “I hate being disturbed when I’m watching television! What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
    “The same thing I was doing in your house yesterday. Bond enforcement,” I said. “You’re in violation of your bond. You need to reschedule.”
    He glared at Kloughn. “What’s with the dough boy?”
    Kloughn handed Bender his business card. “Albert Kloughn, attorney at law.”
    “I hate clowns. They creep me out.”
    Kloughn pointed to his name on the card. “K-l-o-u-g-h-n,” he said. “If you ever need a lawyer, I’m real good.”
    “Oh yeah?” Bender said. “Well, I hate lawyers even more than clowns.” He jumped forward and knocked Kloughn on his ass with a head butt to Kloughn’s face. “And I hate
you
,” he said, lunging at me, head down.
    I sidestepped and tried the stun gun on him again. No effect. I ran after him and made another stab. He never broke stride. He was across the room, through the open front door. I threw the stun gun at him. It bounced off his head, he yelled
ouch
, and he was gone, into the darkness.
    I was torn between following after him and helpingKloughn. Kloughn was on his back, blood trickling from his nose, mouth open, eyes glazed. Hard to tell if he was just stunned or in a genuine coma.
    “Are you okay?” I yelled at Kloughn.
    Kloughn didn’t say anything. His arms were in motion, but he wasn’t making any progress at getting up. I went to his side and dropped to one knee.
    “Are