Disclaimer: The characters of the Stephanie Plum series belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Pairing: none
Rating: Suitable for all ages
Feedback: Email TT at ttsmiscellany@yahoo.com

Gauntlet Thrown, Challenge Accepted
By TT

Monday Night – very late

The phone rang, drawing Stephanie from a deep sleep.

Reaching out, she tried to grasp her cell phone, but didn’t get to it before it stopped ringing.

Her arm flopped down onto the mattress and a sigh of relief escaped, only to change into a moan of frustration as the phone began ringing again.

Forcing herself into a sitting position, she grabbed her cell, and answered the incoming call. “’Lo?” she managed to get out around the huge, gaping yawn.

“Stephanie, you need to come here now.”

“Mom?” she asked, confused, worried and instantly awake. She was up off the bed and searching out clothes as she waited for her mother to continue.

“We had a break in. Your father is outside now, looking for the person. I called the police, but…” Mrs. Plum’s voice trailed off.

“I’m on my way over now, Mom,” Stephanie assured. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Disconnecting the call, she shoved her phone in her pocket and jammed her feet into her boots, grabbed her purse and headed out.

By the time she reached her parent’s house, she wasn’t surprised to see several cop cars parked on the street, her parent’s neighbors were either standing out on the street looking on or, if they were more modest, peering at the scene from behind their curtains.

Greeting several of her friends as she walked into the house, Stephanie spared them little attention, looking for her parents. She found them sitting on the couch in the living room.

“Oh, Stephanie!” Mrs. Plum cried when she spotted her daughter. Standing up, she wrapped Stephanie in a hug before she returned to her seat beside Frank, taking his hand in hers. “How do you handle this all the time?” she asked.

Stephanie crouched down in front of her parents and met their eyes. “You’re fine, you’re not hurt. If anything was taken it’s just stuff, nothing to worry about.”

“I know but…” Mrs. Plum began.

“Pumpkin,” Mr. Plum interrupted, “I think we’ll want to talk to that Ranger person about some security around here.”

Stephanie reached out and placed her hand on her father’s, squeezing gently. “I’ll call him in the morning for you,” she assured.

“Steph,” Eddie interrupted. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” she said.

They walked into the kitchen and Stephanie felt anger begin to boil within her. It was one thing for her skips and stalkers to target her and her apartment, it was quite another for them to go after her parents. “What is it, Eddie?” she asked.

“It looks like it was just a regular break in,” he explained. “From what your parents can tell, nothing was stolen, so most likely your father interrupted the thief before they could take anything. There has been a rash of burglaries in the area recently. Your mom’s really upset though, since the point of entry was the back door here, I was wondering if you would take a look and let me know if anything’s missing.”

“Sure,” Stephanie agree, with a small smile.

Looking around the kitchen, she didn’t see anything that looked out of place. Her parents didn’t have a lot of fancy stuff, but a few things could probably bring a thief a little money, if they had the right fence. There were at least three complete place settings of Limoges china sitting in view behind a glass cabinet. There was the change jar that was almost completely full. There were some figurines her great-grandparents had brought with them from the old country.

None of that was touched.

In fact, the only thing that struck her as being out of place was her mother’s recipe box.

Her eyes skimmed past it, but returned time and again. The recipe box was never out of place. Her mother was almost fanatic about it. As a little girl, one of her favorite April Fool’s Day jokes was to move the recipe box a few inches one way or another. Her mother always put it back in the same place.

Walking over, she looked down at it. The lid wasn’t resting flush as it usually did.

“Eddie, do you have a glove I can borrow?” Stephanie asked.

“Sure,” Eddie agreed, reaching into a pouch and pulling out a disposable plastic glove.

“Thanks,” Stephanie replied absently.

Slipping the glove on her hand, she flipped open the lid of the recipe box. Several cards were sticking up and it looked like there was a small gap, as if something had been taken. “Let’s get my mom in here,” she advised. “She’d know what’s missing.

Mrs. Plum was called into the kitchen. Both husband and wife arrived, curious about what was going on.

“Mom,” Stephanie began, knowing how closely her mother guarded her recipes, she was worried about how this information would be received. “I think I know what was taken.”

“Something was taken?” Mrs. Plum gasped, her free hand flying up to her throat.

“Mom, you need to look at the recipe box,” Stephanie informed. “I think someone stole some of your recipes. You’ll have to tell us which ones.”

All the color drained from Mrs. Plum’s face. “Oh, Frank,” she whispered, turning toward her husband.

Mr. Plum wrapped his arms around his wife and held her close while she calmed down. “There’s a huge dessert bake-off down at the church Saturday night. You mother entered it and you know she could win,” he informed. “There have been several women who are taking it a little too seriously.”

“You think one of them took your recipes?” Eddie asked, trying hard, and mostly succeeding, in keeping a serious face.

“Ruth Mirabelli and Rose Santori,” Mrs. Plum murmured, turning to look at her daughter and her daughter’s friend. “Both of them have sworn they would beat me, but neither has enough originality to come up wit their own dish.”

Eddie made a few notes and then informed, “We’re going to have to photograph the recipe box and dust it for prints.”

“Do whatever you need to,” Mr. Plum instructed. Then he mumbled more to himself than to anyone else, “Women in the town get more insane each day.”

“Come on,” Stephanie said, resting her hand on her parents’ shoulders and guiding them back to the living room. When her parents were seated, she crouched down in front of them and asked, “Do you need me to stay?”

“No,” Mrs. Plum said. “I’m not going to take this lying down. We’ll handle this. Tonight she threw down the gauntlet, issued a challenge.” Looking up, there was steel in Mrs. Plum’s eyes as she met those of her daughter. “She wants a war. I’ll give it to her, whichever her it was. That blue ribbon is going to be mine.”

“OK, Mom,” Stephanie said, feeling suddenly very nervous. Never had she seen her mother like this and she wasn’t sure she wanted to ever again.

“I will need your help this week, though,” she informed Stephanie.

“My help?” Stephanie asked, puzzled.

“I’m not sure which recipes the thief took yet, but I can’t chance using any of the ones I had. I’m going to need to come up with something new,” Mrs. Plum informed.

Her eyes glazing slightly at the thought of all the dessert she would get to eat that week while helping her mom. “Just let me know when you need me,” she assured before wishing her parents and friends a good night and leaving.

Saturday Morning

Stephanie stepped onto the fifth floor of the Rangeman building. She didn’t normally work on Saturdays, but things had been exceptionally busy and Ranger had asked her to come in and lend a hand.

Since had had been so prompt about responding to her parent’s request, not to mention giving them a discount for being the family of an employee – a discount Stephanie was fairly certain hadn’t existed before that day – she felt she had little option other than to agree.

“Hey, Steph!” Hal greeted, stepping out of the break room with a doughnut in hand.

Stephanie felt her stomach churn at the sigh. “Morning, Hal,” she returned.

“Come on and grab some breakfast before it’s all gone.”

She was about to decline the invitation when her stomach growled. “Sure,” she replied, dreading what she might find waiting for her.

Stepping into the break room, she saw there were only a few other guys around, including Ranger, who was by the refrigerator getting a bottle of water.

As she stepped up to the table where the breakfast food was on display, she felt her stomach sour at the sight of all the sugary treats – strudels, doughnuts, tarts. In the very back corner of the basket containing muffins, she spotted what looked like a bran muffin. If she was right, it was just about the only non-sugar-laden confection offered.

Leaning over slightly, she managed to snag the treat as a mocha latte colored hand grabbed for it.

As she looked up, she met Ranger’s startled eyes.

“Babe?” he asked.

Stephanie blushed slightly and stepped away from the spread. Her hopes of slipping out of the break room without having to explain were dashed when, after taking only one step toward the door, Ranger was by her side, his arm around her waist.

Leading her to a quiet corner of the break room, he asked, “Are you OK?”

“Sure,” she informed blushing slightly, not wanting to admit why she took his muffin.

Ranger looked at her intently. “It’s just that you took the only healthy thing laid out,” he observed. “Is there something I should know about.”

It was then that Stephanie made her mistake; she looked him in the eye. Once her eyes met his, she knew there was no way she would be able to lie her way out of this. Releasing a sigh, she explained, “During the break in at my parent’s, the thief took my mom’s dessert recipes. There’s this huge competition going on at the church this afternoon and my mom was bound and determined to come up with a brand-new recipe that was sure to win.”

A raised eye brow was Ranger’s encouragement for her to continue.

Blowing out a breath, Stephanie explained, “She needed someone to taste test and judge each recipe.”

“And you were the lucky victim?” Ranger asked, amusement and suppressed laughter evident in his voice and the slight upward quirking of his lips.

“Yes,” Stephanie admitted, not amused at all. “Apparently even I have a limit as to how many desserts I can eat before needing real food.”

Curiosity flared in Ranger’s eyes. “Just how many desserts did you try this week?” he asked.

Closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see his reaction, she admitted, “Two hundred thirty eight.”

Ranger gasped. “Babe.”

Saturday Evening

Helen Plum stood proudly behind her blue-ribbon dessert. A wide smile shone on her face. Most people looking at her would assume that the grin and the gleam of triumph in her eyes was a result of her being announced the overall winner as well as the winner in her division.

What only she could see, though, as she looked past the crowd in front of her, was Ruth Mirabelli being arrested for breaking, entering and theft. She was secretly hoping that the woman went FTA and Stephanie would have to stun-gun Ruth.

Of course, she would never, ever admit that.

End