After filling out the required report I had walked the 6 blocks home, only to have it start raining 3 blocks in.  I stripped off my clothes on the way to the shower.  After scrubbing off a few layers of skin, I pulled on sweats and a t-shirt and flopped down on the couch.  I picked up the pile of mail on the table and sorted through it.  Bill.  Advertisement.  Bill.  Credit Card application.  Bill.  Rangeman LLC.  Rangeman LLC?!  Ranger sent me something?  I slipped my finger under the envelope flap and tore it open.  Sadly, there was no check, just a folded piece of paper.

Dear Ms. Plum,

 

Rangeman LLC thanks you for your business.  We are honored that you chose us for your security needs.  We will always do our best to protect you and your assets, now and in the future.  It has recently come to our attention that unforeseen costs were incurred in regard to your account.  Below is an itemized list of those costs for your review.

I stared at the letter for five full minutes.  Ranger was charging me.  I couldn’t believe it!  There had to be some mistake.  He never said anything about making me pay for the cars, and the body guards.  And, he certainly should have said something about charging me for staying in his apartment! No price for what we give each other, my ass!  Freaking $239 grand wasn’t chump change. 

I grabbed my jacket and bag and headed for Vinnie’s.  This had to be a mistake, I just can’t believe that Ranger would do something like this…unless.   My feet stopped moving so fast the rest of me nearly flipped head over heels down the stairs.  Holy Crap!  Dechooch had cost me one night with Ranger.  Two hundred grand and I’ll have to be his sex slave for the rest of my life!!  As soon as I thought it I got a rush that was just a smidge below climax.  I had to lean against the wall to steady myself.  I shook it off and thought about it again.  No, Ranger wouldn’t do that…would he? 

“I’m an opportunist, babe.”

“Are we making a deal?”

“I’m a mercenary.”

Shit.  I am in so much trouble.  I ran the rest of the way down the stairs and skid to a stop in the lot realizing that my car was at the bottom of the bay.  Damn.  I pulled out my cell and dialed Lula. 

“Wassup?”

“Hey Lula, could you come and pick me up?  My car drowned this morning.”

“That was you whose car went into the drink?” She pulled the phone away from her mouth and Stephanie heard her call out, “Hey Connie, pay up.  It was Steph’s car!”

“Lula, will you come and get me or not?”

“Sure girl, you just won me $50.  I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”  I disconnected and sat down on the concrete steps to wait.  

I heard Lula long before I saw her.  The bass was thumping so hard the windows of my second story apartment were rattling.  She pulled up in front of me and I slid into the seat and buckled in. 

“You lookin’ a little pale, even for you.  Can’t be the car, that ain’t nothin’ new.  So what’s yo’ problem?”

I slumped down in my seat, debating whether to tell Lula or not.  Definitely not.  Knowing Lula she’d say something to Ranger about it and that wouldn’t be good.  I’d figure out a way to discuss it with Ranger eventually.  “Nothing.  I’ve just had a crap day so far, that’s all.”

Ten minutes later, we screeched to a stop in front of the office.  I was relieved to see that there were no black vehicles parked nearby.  We went in to see Connie.  “Got anything for me?” I asked.

Connie tapped a small stack of files on the edge of her desk.  “There are three.  Ranger wants you to call Tank to back you up on the Matheson case.”

“What, he the wind again?” asked Lula.

Connie shook her head.  “He just said that he won’t be available for a while; out of town for business.”

I was a little disappointed.  I hadn’t seen much of Ranger since things went down with Sally and the Slayers a few weeks ago.  Once that had been sorted out, Morelli took me back to my apartment.  The next morning, I woke up and Rex’s cage was on my counter and my clothes were back in my dresser.  A note was taped to my mirror that just said, “Later, Babe.”

I picked up my files and browsed through them.  The first was Mooner.  I’d stop and buy a TV Guide at the Circle K and see when “I Dream of Jeannie” comes on.  I’d stop to get Moon about 5 minutes after it was over.  Enough time to make sure he saw the previews for the next episode, but not enough time for him to get stoned into unconsciousness.  The second was Bob “The Trout” Stout. Bob was an old school gangster; and by old-school I mean old-school.  I think Bob was pushing 95.  He got his nickname because he loved to fish.  He was busted for indecent exposure; guess old Bob couldn’t hold his water and decided to shoot it off the pier while he was fishing.  I’d find Bob on a bench, smoking his stinky cigar, baiting his hook with live grasshoppers and talking to anyone who will listen about his days running with Bugsy and Al. 

I flipped open the file on Matheson and realized why Ranger wanted me to get Tank as backup.  This guy was 6’4” and about 300 pounds of belligerent drunken fun.  He was cited for drunk and disorderly conduct, urinating on a public official (the arresting officer), and assaulting a police officer (threw up on the desk sergeant).  Now he was FTA and it was my job to bring him in.  Joy.  I pulled out my cell and scrolled down for the Rangeman “hotline”.  It wasn’t really a hotline, but it might as well have been since whenever I needed help I called, and five minutes later a black-clad knight came to my rescue.  Mostly it was Ranger, occasionally Tank and once in awhile I’d see Bobby, Hal or Junior.  But mostly Ranger.  Seeing as how he was in the wind, looks like Tank was my designated hero today.  He’ll be thrilled, I’m sure. 

“Rangeman,” came a deep baritone over the line.  Tank.

“Hey Tank, it’s Stephanie.”

He was quiet for a moment and I figured he was wondering just how he got so lucky.  “Ms. Plum.  What can I do for you?”

“Ranger left me a message to call you for backup on a FTA named Matheson.”

“You done any leg work on it yet?” he asked. 

“No, just got the file.  I’ll check some things out and then we can set up a time to meet for the takedown, OK?”

“Just call me when you’re ready.”

I smiled.  That’s what a girl likes to hear.  I thanked him and said I’d get back later.  I turned to Lula. “You want to ride shotgun?”

“Nah, not today.  I just got my nails done,” she said wiggling her fingers to draw attention to the long neon orange nails.  “But when you pick up Tank, you could stop by and drop off some doughnuts.  Any chance I can get to look at that man and his fine ass is a good day for me.  And you do owe me for the ride.”

I looked at her in surprise.  “But you said that since I won you $50 you’d pick me up.”

“That’s true.  But you still don’t got a car and you’re going to need a ride to your parents to pick up that blue gas guzzler.  That’s not free, you know what I’m saying?  You bring Tank over and we’ll call it even.”

If I rolled my eyes any harder I’d give myself brain damage.  “Fine, fine.” I said.  I grabbed my files and my purse and headed for the door.  “Let’s go.”

I stepped into the house and tossed my purse and jacket over a chair.  “Is Grandma home?  I need to borrow the Buick again.”

“What happened to your car?”

“Got wet,” I said, and helped myself to a chocolate cupcake from the platter on the table. 

My mother crossed herself. “That was your car that went into the bay, wasn’t it?  Mrs. Ruff from down the street called to say that she heard from Linda Kozanski that a car ran down the hill and into the water this morning.”

I slumped into a chair.  “Yes, that was my car.  But hey, at least I didn’t blow it up.”

My mother tried not to smile, but before I knew it she was stifling a giggle.  “I can always count on you to look at the bright side.  When you jumped off the roof and broke your arm, you said it was better than breaking your leg.”

We shared a smile and my mother patted me on the shoulder, which in my family was the equivalent of a bear hug.  She went to the kitchen cabinet and pulled the keys for Big Blue off the rack and handed them to me. 

“Go ahead and take it, I’ll tell your grandmother when she gets home from the beauty parlor.  She’s not going to miss it.  She can’t see over the steering wheel without a booster seat so it’s not as if she’s going to drive it.” She grabbed a sponge to wipe off the counter. “And really, I’d rather she not get behind the wheel of anything.  Ever.”

I’m totally on board with that.  Grandma is dangerous all on her own; in a car she’d be Hell on wheels, literally.  I palmed the keys, grabbed a cupcake for the road and headed out to the garage for the Big Blue Whale.  God, I really hate this car. I tossed my bag in the passenger seat and rolled the engine over.  I could almost hear it suck down a gallon of gas.  The motor rumbled as I pulled out of the garage and then roared when I hit the gas pedal. 

I stopped into Giovinchi’s and picked up a TV Guide.  “I Dream of Jeannie” was on at 3:00pm.  That gave me about 4 hours before I needed to stop and get Mooner.  I headed out to see if Bob Stout was fishing on the pier. 

I found Bob exactly where I thought I would.  He was holding court on the pier with a half dozen of his cronies that were pushing the triple digit mark.  When I walked up, he chomped down on his cigar and tried to ignore me.

“Bob, you know you missed your court date?” I asked.

He took the cigar out of his mouth and blew out a lungful of smoke.  “Yeah cookie, I know.  But the salmon were running and when the salmon run, you can’t be wasting time dealing with a bunch of pencil pushers.”

I nodded in mock understanding.  What the hell did I know about salmon except it was good smoked with lemon?  “I hear you, Bob.  But Vinnie posted bond for you and if I don’t bring you back he’ll be out $5,000.”

“Vinnie Plum is a dumb fuck.  You don’t cat around on Harry the Hammer’s daughter if you got any brains.”

True, Vinnie’s not the sharpest crayon in the box.  If Lucille ever got wind of Vinnie’s barnyard exploits, old Harry would be using his hammer to nail down Vinnie’s coffin.  “Regardless, I’m going to have to bring you in, but we can get you bonded out again and you could be back before the tide goes out.”

Bob thought about that for a minute.  “Where’s Ranger?  With my reputation, Vinnie should have sent Ranger out to get me instead of a little girl like you.” 

Oh crap, this was like DeChooch all over again.  And there was NO WAY I was making another deal like that with Ranger.  Especially not with a $239,000 dollar bill hanging over my head.  If Ranger didn’t already have ideas for how I was going to pay that back, I sure as hell didn’t want to give him any. 

Time to lie my ass off.  “Well, Ranger originally had your file, but he, uh, had to leave town on a family emergency, so he asked me if I could bring you in.  He told me to tell you that next time, he’ll pick you up and bring backup in case you put up a fight.”

I could see that this pleased the old man.  He gave me a self-satisfied smirk and nodded his head.  He handed his pole to an old fart that was so scrawny a slight wind would have blown him away.  “Go easy on the grasshoppers.  Play with the lure a bit to see if they’ll bite.”  He stood up and put his hands out in front of him.  “Go ahead, cookie.  Slap the cuffs on me.”

I felt like crap at the prospect of handcuffing an old man, but I remembered DeChooch and appearances were everything with these old-school gangster types.  I put the cuffs on Bob and we walked over to where Big Blue was parked.  “Well, now this is style!” exclaimed Bob.  “This is one fine automobile here, cookie.  You own this?”

I sighed and shook my head.  “No, my grandmother.”

Bob smiled again as he slid into the back seat.  “Tell your granny that when I get out of the joint, I’ll give her a call so we can paint the town red.”  I didn’t know whether to be amused or grossed out.  I can just see Bob and Grandma together.  My mother will shoot me. 

*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*

I dropped off Bob and picked up my body receipt.  I had just enough time for a Big Mac and some fries before I had to get Moon.  I swung into McD’s drive through and placed my order.  I picked up a happy meal for Mooner.  This ensured a timely capture.  Sometimes Moon wanted me to hang out and watch a 60’s TV retrospective and I just didn’t have the time today.  Since I figured he’d be ready for some munchies by the time I arrived, the cheeseburger and fries would resolve that.  And, it had the added bonus of a toy surprise.  Moon was big on McDonald’s toys, had been ever since kindergarten.

I pulled up in front of the duplex he shared with Dougie Kruper.  Dougie was known throughout the Burg as “The Dealer”. What ever you wanted, Dougie either had it or knew how to get it.  He wasn’t rich so I had no idea how he could afford this stuff, but he managed.

Slamming the car door, I walked up the cracked sidewalk to the front door.  I rang the bell once and waited.  And waited.  I rang it again and I heard the deadbolt turn.  Mooner stood in the doorway in a pair of Scooby-Doo boxers and a yellow smiley-face t-shirt.  He blinked a few times when he saw me.

“Hey Moon, how’s it going?” I said.

Mooner cocked his head to one side, then the other.  He reminded me of a scruffy cocker spaniel.  Suddenly the light bulb went on and a goofy smile lit up his face.  “Dude!” he said and then promptly smacked himself in the forehead.  “Oh man, I totally forgot again, huh?”

I had to smile.  He might have been perpetually stoned, but he never failed to amuse me.  “Yeah, we need to get you bonded out again.  Throw on some pants and I’ll take you down to the courthouse.”

Mooner shook his head, “No can do, amiga.  Dougie and me are settin’ up for a Star Wars marathon.  Revenge of the Sith came out on DVD today.”  He gave me a stern look, “You don’t mess with the force, Steph.  Bad Karma.  Shit happens.”

I sighed.  Only Mooner.  “Can you put off your Star Wars marathon for an hour, Moon?” I held up my hand in a Boy Scout salute.  “Promise to get you back as soon as possible.”  I held up the happy meal with the other hand. “I brought you something to eat on the way.”

A giddy smile spread across his face. “You are a bitchen bounty hunter, you know that?”  He leaned into the house and yelled, “Yo Doug-man, got to take a ride with Steph.  Don’t start without me, dude.” He went into the closet near the entry way and grabbed a pair of sweat pants off the floor.  He stepped into them and tied them up.  Stepping out onto the porch, he slung an arm around my shoulders, “Let’s ride.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I had Vinnie meet us at the courthouse and Moon was bonded out again immediately.  Once that was done, I gave him a ride home.  He high-fived me before hopping out of my car and running into the house. 

The last one on my list for the day was Matheson.  I pulled out his file and read it through again.  He had a sister that lived in Hamilton Township, so I figured I’d try there first. 

The sister was very informative, telling me that Matheson had just taken a residential motel room across from Maxine’s beauty supply.  I called Tank to let him know. 

“Rangeman.”

“Hi Tank, it’s Stephanie.”

“Ms. Plum,” he said.  All of the Rangemen called me that.  I had tried to discourage it, early on, but they persisted.  And I don’t know about you, but I’m sure not going to argue with somebody who could probably bench press a Toyota.

“I found Matheson over on Winchester Boulevard across from Maxine’s beauty supply.  He’s taken a room at the Shady Lane residential motel.”

“I’ll meet you there in ten.  Do not go in without me, understood?”

You betcha! “Yep, I’ll sit tight until you get here.”  We disconnected and I parked the Buick half a block down from the motel.  I had no worries that Tank would spot me.  I was the only person in Trenton desperate enough to drive a monstrosity this size. 

Ten minutes after he hung up, Tank eased a black Ford Excursion up to my rear bumper.  He grabbed two flak vests and headed for my car.  I got out to meet him.

“Do you think that’s going to be necessary?” I asked when he handed me the vest.  “His file said he was a mean drunk but it didn’t say anything about him being a shooter.”

Tank pulled his vest on and gave me a raised eyebrow.  Yeah, yeah, I know.  I secured the Velcro straps on the vest and followed Tank across the street and up the block to the motel.  Matheson was in room 113, which was right across from the pool.  I had a glance at the water as we walked up to his door.  Slime green, yeesh. 

Tank motioned me to the opposite side of the doorway from where he stood.  He unholstered his weapon and I followed his lead, digging my .38 out from my bag.  Not that I was a threat, since it was empty, but at least I looked like I could kick ass. 

I watched as Tank knocked on the motel door with a massive fist. “Mike Matheson,” he boomed, “Bond enforcement.  Open the door.”

There was a scratching sound in the room and then it was quiet.  Tank frowned at the door and knocked again.  “Mike Matheson, open this door or I will open it for you.”  Again, some more scrabbling around and then quiet.  Tank turned to me, “Stay out of the doorway until I call for you.  Ranger will have my ass if I get you shot.”

He stepped in front of the door and put his big black boot to it.  The door crashed open and broke off of one of the hinges.  Tank stepped into the room and looked around.  Matheson was slumped in a chair in the corner of the room, seemingly unconscious.  Tank walked toward him slowly.  Just when he was about three feet away, Matheson jumped up yelling and made a valiant attempt at a tackle.  Had it been anyone but Tank, he might have had a chance.  I’m beginning to suspect that the reason he’s named Tank is because that’s the only thing that had a hope in hell of taking him down. 

Matheson hit Tank solidly in the upper body, pushing him back a few steps almost to the door.  Tank grabbed Matheson by the shirt took two steps backward, stuck his foot in Matheson’s gut and rolled his huge body on the floor.  Matheson flew over Tank’s head as if he’d been shot out of a cannon.  Three hundred pounds of stinky drunk went flying right into the pool. 

All I could do was blink as Tank picked himself up off the floor and stepped out from the room.  He watched as Matheson floundered around in the disgusting water.  A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth and he looked over at me.  “Hm.  I wasn’t aiming for the pool, but it works.”  He pulled his Nextel from his belt and called Hal to send over a truck to fish Matheson out of the cruddy sludge.

Once Matheson was securely locked in the back of a black van, Tank walked me back to my car.  I decided to ask him about the letter from Ranger, hoping he might have some idea of what this is all about.

We stopped in front of Big Blue.  “Tank? I, uh, got a letter today and I wanted to ask you about it.”

He gave me a concerned look. “A stalker kind of letter?”

“No!  It was, uh, from Ranger.”

Tank held up both hands and stepped back, “I stay out of Ranger’s personal business, Ms. Plum. It’s healthier.”

“It’s not personal, not really.  This letter said that I owed Rangeman a lot of money for like, bodyguard services and stuff.”

That got his attention.  “You got a bill from Rangeman?” 

I nodded.  “It looks like Ranger signed it.”

Tank shook his head. “Ignore it. Ranger isn’t charging you, Ms. Plum.”

The screeching of the alarm sent a jagged pain through my head.  I rolled over and slammed the snooze button for the third time.  Mental note: Marylou, margaritas and Brad Pitt don’t mix.  My best friend, Marylou and I had a girls night last night.  Pizza, margaritas and “TROY”, had left me with a cotton mouth and a monster headache.  Although the sight of Brad Pitt’s naked butt and Orlando Bloom (clothed or not) was totally worth the hangover. 

The alarm went off again and I hit the off button and stumbled into the shower.  I closed my eyes as the water covered me.  I tried to imagine myself somewhere quiet and peaceful.  Once I found that, then I tried to imagine a very naked Brad Pitt washing my back under a waterfall.  Oh look, here comes Orlando in a black Speedo.  Yummy.  I started thinking that a Steph sandwich might be a good thing when suddenly naked Ranger appeared.  Brad & Orlando look worried and suddenly faded away.  Ranger took the soap in his hands and gave me a look like he wanted to have me for lunch…..

I opened my eyes and cursed.  Damn.  No Ranger thoughts, I told myself.  Especially no naked Ranger thoughts.  That way lies badness.  Wet and naked Ranger thoughts tended to require a visit with Mr. Magic Shower wand and then a half dozen Boston Crèmes.  Sadly, neither of which I had time for today. 

I knew why I was thinking of Ranger.  I hadn’t seen him for nearly a month.  All Connie could tell me was that he was “in the wind” and she didn’t know when he’d be back.  I really needed to talk to him.  For the last two weeks I’ve been obsessing about this letter I got from Rangeman saying I owed over $239,000 for “unforeseen charges” like bodyguarding and destroyed cars.  Ranger had once mentioned that I was a line item in his budget, but he never said anything about paying it back.

I stepped out of the shower and dried off, wrapping the towel around me and tucking it in tight. I ran some leave-in conditioner through my hair and blasted it with the blow dryer.  Grabbing a pair of jeans from my closet, I shuffled them on and threw a black t-shirt over my head.  I slipped my sneakers on and grabbed the FTA files I had gotten from Connie yesterday. 

Most of them were my regulars, but there was one guy that I might need some help with.  He was arrested for boosting cars.  Normally, car-jackers were no big deal, but Wilkins was well-known for his bad attitude.  In other words, a big deal.  Looks like I’ll be calling Tank again for help.  I’m sure I’ll make his day.

Two weeks ago, I’d called Tank for assistance with a drunk FTA.  Tank subdued the FTA and I got my check for $800 for bringing him in.  I made it to the bank to deposit the check and then caught a sale at Macy’s and was down $300.  My bank account might have been screaming in agony, but my closet was doing the happy dance.  Two new pairs of FMPs, a pair of black leather pants and a royal purple silk shirt ate up the majority of it.  But I also found a set at Victoria’s Secret that I just had to have.  Deep purple Italian lace demi-Wonderbra and matching lacy panties.  I don’t know why I bought it.  I’m taking a break from Morelli so it’s not like he’s going to see it.  And, Ranger, well he’d have to come in from “the wind” AND change his mind about relationships. 

I’d have a better chance of getting struck by lightening. 

I tossed my guns, pepper spray, cuffs and for the hell of it, a Tastycake in my bag and headed out the door.  Just as I turned the key in the lock, my phone started ringing.  Figures.  I quickly unlocked the door and dashed for the phone.

“Hello,” I said, trying to catch my breath.

“Hiya, Cupcake.” 

“Hi Joe, what’s up?”

“I called to see if you want to meet me for lunch.  Pino’s?”

Pino’s is always good.  “Sure.  See you there around twelve.”

“OK, I’ll order the usual.  See you.”

“Bye, Joe.” 

I hung up the phone and locked the door again on my way out.  Mrs. Bestler wasn’t in the elevator this morning.  In fact, a glance into the parking lot told me that most of the seniors were out.  There wasn’t a Cadillac in sight.  Either the Social Security checks had come in or they were having a two-for-one sale of Polident at the Shop N’ Bag.

I opened my mailbox and pulled out the contents.  Flipping through them quickly, I froze when I saw it.  Another letter from Rangeman.  I didn’t know whether to be happy or scared.  What the hell could this one be about?

I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper.  OK, decision made.  I was officially scared.

I could feel my knees turning to Jell-O.  I slid slowly down and sat on the sidewalk, staring at the letter.  ‘Easy monthly payments of $3,994.91!’  I didn’t make that much money in two months with the FTAs I currently handled.  Not only would I never get to shop at Macy’s again, but I’d have to eat at my mother’s every night!  Omigod, I’d have to move in with my mother!  Just the thought of it had me panicked.  Even without rent, I’d still have to start taking some high-dollar skips.  But I wasn’t capable of bringing those guys in, and Ranger knew it.  Tank said that Ranger wasn’t charging me, but this sure looked like a collection letter to me!  What the hell is he trying to do here?!

Pulling myself together, I stuffed the letter into my bag and pulled out the Tastycake.  I needed happy food.  Now.  I walked out to the parking lot and stared at Big Blue.  Just one Tastycake wasn’t going to get it.  It was time to break out the Big Guns.  I hopped into the Buick and rolled the engine over, heading to the Tasty Pastry for a dozen Boston Crémes. 

I walked into the bakery at the same time Lula was walking out.  She had a box full of doughnuts for her and Connie.  She waited while I ordered my Boston Crémes and we sat on the bumper of Big Blue, scarfed a half-dozen doughnuts each and talked. 

“OK, spill it,” said Lula around a mouthful of raspberry jelly doughnut.  “You looking like you either just lost your best friend or you found out the IRS is going to audit you.”

I couldn’t hold back the sigh.  “Actually, I wish the IRS was auditing me.  At least then, I’d know how I’m going to have to pay them back.”  I reached in my bag and handed Lula both the first and second Rangeman letters.

She started reading…and then laughing.  And it wasn’t a “ha-ha-very-funny” kind of laugh.  It was a “you-are-so-screwed-and-I-mean-that-in-the-literal-sense” kind of laugh.  She handed the letters back to me, still giggling.

She looked me over and shook her head sadly, “Girlfriend, you in some major trouble.  Tell me you have some cash in the bank.”

I nodded, “Some.”

“Good,” she snickered. 

That snicker had me worried.  I had a feeling I knew where she was going with this and it was no place I wanted to be…well, maybe no place I wanted to be.  The jury was still out on that.   “Why?” I asked, warily.

She snorted with laughter.  “I know you ain’t got no $200 grand just hanging around.  But I figure Ranger would be willing to work out a trade, you know?”  She stood up and motioned me to follow.

“Trade?” I silently begged her not to say it, but I knew she would anyway.

“You and me are going to Victoria’s Secret.  ‘Cause if Batman is going to own your ass, you better have it covered in black satin and lace.”

When I walked into Pino’s, I spotted Morelli at a booth in the back.  He was wearing a distressed brown leather bomber jacket, professionally faded jeans that hugged the best butt in Jersey and a dark green t-shirt that accented his dark brown hair and eyes.  Dead sexy, as always.  He’d ordered a meatball sub for me with extra mozzarella and parmesan cheese and a frosty glass of beer.  Exactly what I would have ordered for myself.  This was one of the reasons I was in serious like with Morelli, and also why I feared him.

We sat in silence for awhile, just munching on our lunch while the jukebox in the corner played classic rock songs that my parents might have danced to back in their day.  Pino’s had been around a long time, and probably 1960 was the last time anyone bothered to change the 45’s in the case. 

“So,” Morelli began, “haven’t seen you in awhile, Cupcake.  The guys at the station are starting to get restless.  No cars exploding, or dead bodies turning up.”

I smiled sweetly at him. “Bite me, Morelli.”

He grinned.  “Been keeping a low profile for a reason?”

“I’m not keeping a low profile,” I said with a shrug.  “Just haven’t had any crazies after me lately.”

“Thank Christ for that.”  He sat back in his seat and tapped his foot against mine under the table.  “Me and the guys have been missing you, Cupcake.  How long is this dry spell going to go on?”

I shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Until I figure things out, I guess.”

“What’s to figure?  Up until the Slayer thing, we were doing fine.  At least I thought we were doing fine,” he said.  “But then, Ranger hid you in his safe house and when you came back things were different.”

Safe house.  Ranger’s safe house.  Well, yeah I guess you could consider his apartment a safe house.  It had locks, cameras, laser beams and a battalion of ex-Rangers guarding the place.  The Invisible Man couldn’t even get through that security.  I never told Morelli that I was in a safe house, I just said he’d worry less if he knew where I was.  Probably though, he’d have worried a lot more if he knew.  Now that it’s done and over, I wonder if I should tell him?  Nah.

“Being targeted by a hitman and nearly gang raped tends to make a girl re-evaluate a few things, Joe.  I’m thinking it through and hopefully soon I’ll have come to some decisions.”  There.  That was about as politically correct as I could muster today.

We didn’t say much after that; just finished our sandwiches.  As I stood up to leave, one of the busboys bumped into me and I lost my grip on my bag.  It landed at Morelli’s feet and spilled most of the contents on the floor.  Morelli bent down to help me scoop up my stuff.  He ignored the tampons and zeroed in on the Rangeman envelopes.  Of course. 

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said as I tried to snatch the envelopes from his hand.  But Morelli had reflexes faster than a tightly wound spring and I knew there was no chance I was getting them from him.  “Personal business,” I said, but quickly realized my mistake. 

“Personal business?  With Ranger?”  Uh-oh.  That was not his happy voice.  That was his jealous Italian macho-man voice.  Crap.

I held out my hand and gave him my best Burg glare, guaranteed to turn any Burg man into sniveling mush.  But as luck would have it, Morelli was immune.  This could be either the fact that he has the scariest grandmother on the East Coast, or that after growing up with his mother and older sister nothing phased him.  I’m betting on the former. 

“It’s just some checks for a few odd jobs I did for Rangeman.”  I’m stressing that it’s for RANGEMAN, not RANGER.  Though I don’t think Morelli will see a difference.  Actually, neither did I, but I was hoping that Morelli would think that Rangeman was the lesser of two evils.

Morelli gave me a questioning look, then opened one of the envelopes to peek inside.  “Huh, no check in here,” he said.  Over my protests, he pulled out the letter and started reading.  I counted 5 seconds before the dark cloud descended over his handsome face.  Two more seconds and the jaw was tense with a muscle twitching.  Three seconds after that, I was glad Ranger was out of town.  Had he been here, I’m thinking it would have gone down like a gunfight at the OK Corral.  Not much good came of that, and I have a feeling that this is going the same direction.

“It’s a bill,” said Morelli through clenched teeth.  I nodded.  Best not to add any commentary unless asked directly.  I rarely get in trouble when I keep my mouth shut.  “For $239,000.”  Again, I just nodded.  “I get the Porsche, and the medical costs.  But Room & Board?!  Shower Gel?  I think that needs some explanation.”

“It’s from when I was hiding from the Slayers,” I said quietly and said a little prayer that Morelli just accepted that and moved on.  Wishful thinking, I know.  A cop is a cop is a cop.  Off-duty or on. 

“So these room and board costs are for the safe house you stayed in?”

“Kinda, I guess.”

“You guess?  Don’t suppose you’re going to tell me where this safe house was?”

Sure honey, when pigs fly.  “Not too far from here.” I took the letter from him and tucked it back in the envelope.  “I’m sure this whole bill-thing is just a mistake.  Tank even told me to ignore it.  When Ranger gets back, maybe I’ll ask him about it.”

“Or, maybe I should,” Morelli muttered. 

Yeah, the day after Hell freezes over.  “No, like I said it’s probably just an accounting error or something like that.”

“Ranger might be a psycho and loose cannon, but so far as I can see he’s a pretty good businessman.  Rangeman has a good reputation with all branches of law enforcement.  Businesses run like that don’t usually have accounting errors.  I’m thinking this is a little more personal.”  He gave me his best “interrogation” look and I shifted nervously.  Joe did not need to put two and two together about me and Ranger – unless it equaled eight.  I have a feeling that if he ever found out about The Deal I made with Ranger, World War III wouldn’t be far behind. 

“P-Personal?” Damn stuttering.  “Personal how?”

Morelli ground his teeth, “Like maybe he’s trying to blackmail you into bed?”  It’s not like this hadn’t occurred to me, but still, just hearing it out loud was still a shock.  “He might have a moral code, although God only knows what it is.  But I’d bet money that he’s not above blackmailing you for sex.”

I was awestruck.  “Have you seen him?  Ranger does not have to blackmail somebody into his bed.  Ranger would have to blackmail them to get them out of his bed.” 

The look that passed over his face made me think that was the wrong thing to say.  “I don’t know how you can look so surprised, Steph.  I told you a few months ago, that I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

I shoved my hands in my front pockets to hide my crossed fingers.  I was so going to Hell for this.  “I think you’re imagining things, Joe.  Ranger and I are friends.  He would never try to blackmail me into bed.  He doesn’t think about me that way.”

Joe leaned down and kissed me lightly on the cheek.  He walked backwards a few steps as he said, “You keep telling yourself that, Cupcake.”  I watched as he hopped into his 4x4 and motored away. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I checked my watch and decided that if I was going to make any money today I’d better get on it.  I fished my cell phone out of my bag and dialed Tank.  I was going to need help with Wilkins.

“Rangeman,” a man’s voice came over the line.  Not Tank. 

“Hi, this is Stephanie Plum.  I was hoping to speak to Tank.”

“Sorry, Ms. Plum.  Tank is out of the office today checking on an account.  Is there something I can do for you?”  His voice was pleasant, but there was an undercurrent that made me nervous.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“Lester Santos, ma’am,” he said and I could hear the grin in his voice.  “Do you need assistance?”

Lester.  I didn’t know him very well.  The last time I’d met him, he was helping with a redecorating job that I did with Ranger.  Usually if Ranger was unavailable to help me, Tank stepped in, sometimes bringing Bobby or Junior along.  I’d never worked one-on-one with Lester before.  “Actually, I could use some help with a FTA.  He’s a pretty big guy and word is he’s just chock full of bad attitude.”

Lester chuckled.  “My favorite kind.  Where is he?”

“The file says he’s in a flop house over on Mercer.  I haven’t checked it out yet, but I can look into it before you get involved if you want.”

Lester was quiet for a few moments.  “No, that’s OK.  It’s pretty slow around here.  Besides, I finally get to see you in action.  Wouldn’t want to miss a minute of it.”

A man of indeterminate origin angled out from behind the wheel.  He was big, not as big as Tank (who was?) but taller than Ranger although not as muscular.  His black t-shirt looked painted on, stretching across his broad shoulders with the hem of the sleeves straining over his biceps.  He wore desert-camo cargo pants tucked into black military-style boots.  His black hair was cut short, with fashionably spiked ends on top.  He pulled off black-rimmed wrap-around sunglasses and tossed them onto the dashboard.  A dark slash of brows covered brown eyes with lush lashes that any Burg girl would kill for.  He looked like he stepped off the cover of some G.I. romance novel. His nose was straight and his lips formed into a lopsided smile when he saw me, flashing double dimples.  It was a lopsided, lady-killer-type smile.  He was hot, and he knew it.  Ladies and gentlemen, meet Lester.

He pulled two flak vests out of the backseat and strolled over to me as I got out of my car.  “Ms. Plum,” he said, laying that deadly smile on me.  He gave me a casual perusal that left me wanting to check and make sure I still had my underwear on.  He handed me the smaller vest, “Tank informed me that you don’t carry one for yourself, so I brought one for you.”

“Thank you,” I said as I pulled the vest on and fastened the straps. 

He pulled a black 9MM Beretta out from behind his back, dropped the magazine and then popped it back into place.  He nodded toward my bag. “Are you carrying?”  I nodded.  “Is it loaded?”  I shrugged.  Lester grinned and held out his hand for my gun.  I fished it out of my bag and placed it in his palm.  He flipped the cylinder out and dug in one of his pockets, pulling out five .38 caliber bullets and loading my gun. 

“You always carry bullets for a gun you don’t own?”

Lester smiled at me and said, “Not normally, but I’ve heard stories about you and your empty gun in the cookie jar.  I’m actually surprised you have it with you.”

I’m beginning to think Ranger is a bigger gossip than the old ladies down at the beauty shop where Grandma goes for her pink color washes.  All of these guys know way more about me than I will ever know about them.  On the other hand, maybe Ranger isn’t telling them.  Maybe they have a file on me; they are security experts after all.  They probably know everything from my birth weight to the results of my last pap smear.  The thought made me slightly nauseous.  I did not want Ranger’s Merry Men to know quite that much about me.  That was need-to-know info and so far, no man alive needed to know that much about my uterus. 

He finished loading my gun and handed it back to me.  I tucked it into the waistband of my pants.  Lester watched me with an amused and interested look.  “What?” I asked.

He smiled, “Just wondering how you maintain such a great shape.  I heard you eat donuts like they’re going out of style and only exercise if Ranger drags you out to run.”

My eyes narrowed slightly.  Normally, the Merry Men said as little as possible and never made comments about me personally.  They could have thought I was the most inept, air-headed woman in the world but none of them would ever say so.  I’m guessing this had more to do with fear of Ranger than respect for me.  I’m beginning to think that Lester was different from the rest.  “Good genes,” I answered. 

I turned to walk toward the motel and Lester followed me.  “Yes, they are,” he muttered appreciatively.  It took me a minute to get it.  Good genes, or good jeans?  I glanced over my shoulder and caught Lester looking at the red Levi’s tab on my back pocket.  Hmm. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The hotel was three stories high and painted a washed-out blue with dirty-white trim.  Lester opened the door and stepped in front of me, entering first.  Chivalry has its place, and evidently this wasn’t it. 

The interior of the hotel wasn’t much better than the exterior.  The floors were grimy and the once-elegant wallpaper was faded and peeling.  Lester stopped at the base of the stairs.  “What floor’s he on?”

“Second,” I said. 

“Stay behind me.”

I nodded and followed him up the stairs to the second floor.  We walked down the long hallway.  Most rooms had the doors open, some of them didn’t even have doors.  I tapped Lester on the shoulder and pointed to the last room on the right. Wilkins’ room.

This door was shut.  Just my luck.  Lester pushed me back against the wall and stepped up to the door.  He knocked twice, and didn’t say anything.  This struck me as odd since every time I’ve gone out with Tank or Ranger they always announce who they are and why they’re there.  Lester didn’t announce anything, he just knocked again. 

The door flew open to show Wilkins.  He was big and ugly…and smelly.  He’d probably bathed last when Clinton was President.  “Whadaya want?” slurred Wilkins. 

Lester held both hands out to his sides and gave Wilkins a friendly smile.  “Mr. Wilkins, you failed to appear for your court date, sir, and Ms. Plum here has been authorized to bring you in to reschedule.”  Well, that was certainly a different tact.  I’m pretty sure Lester’s courteousness will be lost on Wilkins.

“Fuck you!”  Yep, definitely lost.

Wilkins went to slam the door but Lester stuck his foot in the way.  “Sir, its understandable that you’re upset.  If you’ll just come with us, I’m sure we can straighten things out that will benefit everyone involved.”

“Piss off!”  He gave Lester a shove to the chest, causing him to step back.  And here was when I made my mistake.  In my own defense, I think I was channeling Lula.

I stepped up to Wilkins.  “Listen, shithead,” I said, poking him in the chest.  “I’m not gonna stand here and dink around with you.  You can come with me now or I can shoot you in the foot and then have the Trenton PD come and pick you up.  Which is it gonna be?”

Apparently neither, because Wilkins reached out and grabbed me by the throat lifting me off the ground.  He leaned into me and his breath smelled like vodka, cigarettes and sardines.  I tried not to gag but my eyes were watering.  I wrapped both hands around his wrists, trying to pry them off of me.  I was waiting for Lester to do his badass Rangeman bit and put this asshole in a world of pain, but it looked like Badass Lester was not in the building.

“Sir, you need to put her down,” Lester said calmly.  I guess he could be calm, it wasn’t him being dangled by the neck several inches above the ground. 

“I’m tired of dealing with bitches.  Bitch ex-wife took all my stuff.  Bitch judge set my bail so high I had to go to that ferret Vinnie Plum to bail me out.  And now, this little bitch thinks she’s going to bring me in.”  He gave me a shake. 

Lester’s voice was still cool and calm.  I wanted to smack him.  “Sir, I can appreciate your position here, but you need to put her down.  Now.” 

A male voice came from behind me, “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing, sir.  Please go back to your room,” said Lester.  I could see him shift his weight almost as if he was getting ready to do something.  About damn time.

“Yo, man.  You don’t need to be bringing in some little bitch and trying to start some shit here,” said New Guy. 

Lester’s voice became a little deeper and even calmer.  If he was any more calm, he’d be in a coma.  “Gentlemen, we’re just here to do a job.  Let’s not get stupid, alright?”

“Stupid?!” yelled Wilkins. He brought me down to the floor, thank God, but didn’t let go of my neck.  If anything, his grip tightened.  Fantastic.

I whimpered as Wilkins fingers dug into my neck. 

New Guy started mouthing off again.  “Take that ‘ho and get the hell outta here, man.  ‘Fore we kick yo’ ass and have some fun wit’ her.”

Lester cleared his throat, “You want to kick my ass, then do it.  But trust me when I tell you that you do not want to mess with her.  That is Ranger Manoso’s woman.  He finds out that you’ve touched her, and seven kinds of Hell are gonna rain down on your head.  You hear what I’m saying?”

I looked up at Lester and recognized the look on his face.  I’d seen that look before.  On Ranger.  That look said that everything might be cool on the outside, but it was Defcon 3 on the inside.  Oh shit.

New Guy was looking a little pale all of a sudden.  He took a step back with his hands raised.  “Don’t want no part of Manoso.  I was never here, man.  You never saw me, understand?” 

Lester cut his eyes to New Guy as he walked backwards away from us, then his eyes returned to Wilkins.  “You’re going to want to let her go now, sir.  If you do, we’ll walk and you can go about your business.”

“And if I don’t?”

Faster than I could blink, Lester had his gun out and aimed to shoot Wilkins right between the eyes.  “Then, I’m afraid, sir, that I’m going to have to kill you.”

OK then.  Mental note:  The calm, polite ones are crazy. 

The gun wasn’t even pointed at me and I was scared.  Not only was I going to owe Ranger $239,000, but I was going to get one of his Merry Men sent to jail for murder.  I’m definitely not making his Christmas card list this year. 

How the hell was I going to get us out of this mess?  I couldn’t let Lester shoot Wilkins.  But I wasn’t exactly in a position to stop him.  Oh wait, maybe I was after all.  I struggled a little in Wilkins grasp, moving my body over more to the left.  My eyes never left Lester and his gun.  Lester’s eyes were fixed on Wilkins, so I’m not sure he saw me move.  But Rangemen rarely missed a trick, so I’m going to assume he did. 

I only had one shot at this so it better work.  I closed my eyes tight and prayed as I reached back and grabbed Wilkins by the balls.  His fingers tightened around my throat, cutting off my air supply.  “Goddamn bitch,” he groaned.  The tighter he squeezed my neck the tighter I squeezed his doodles.  Just as the black dots started swimming in front of my eyes, I twisted my grip.  Wilkins yelped and released me, falling on the floor and writhing in pain.  I’d have to remember to hug Grandma Mazur next time I saw her.  She taught me that right after she found out about me and Joe in the Tasty Pastry.  I’ve never used it on Morelli, but it has come in handy on other occasions – especially this one. 

I tried to take a deep breath and felt myself falling forward but strong arms came around me, hoisting me up to a stand.  Lester leaned me against the doorframe then went to cuff Wilkins.  My eyes were closed, but I thought I heard the sound of a boot hitting flesh.  Maybe not, but Wilkins made a nasty gurgling sound anyway. 

Warm fingers on my throat made me open my eyes.  I looked up to see Lester looking at me with a mixture of concern and amusement.  “Can you breathe, Ms. Plum?”  I nodded.  “Can you speak?”

“Yes,” I rasped. 

Lester gave me that deadly smile again and chuckled quietly.  “They told me, but I didn’t believe it.”

“What?”

“You never disappoint, Ms. Plum.  And one way or the other, you always get your man.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lester called someone at Rangeman to pick up Wilkins and take him in for me.  We walked out to our cars and Lester popped the hatch on the Cayenne and pulled out a first aid kit.  He took out a gel pack and snapped the tab to activate it.  After a minute he placed the cool bag against my throat. 

“That should help with the swelling a little,” he said.  “I was going to head over to the deli on the way back to the office.  Would you like to have lunch with me?  My treat.”

The Potbelli Deli was a little sandwich and beer shop in a strip mall about a mile from the Rangeman office.  We went in and Lester ordered a pastrami on rye with extra mustard and I ordered a roast beef on a French roll.  He ushered me over to a table by the window and then went back for our sandwiches and beers. 

I studied Lester across the table.  He was definitely different from the other Rangemen I’d met.  I’d say not as intense, but that whole gun to the forehead thing was pretty intense so maybe not.  I couldn’t put my finger on what it was though. 

“I’ve got to ask,” I said.  “Are you always so polite when you pick up criminals?”

“Polite?” Lester leaned back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest. 

“Yeah.  ‘Gentlemen?’  ‘Sir?’  What’s up with that?”

“And when was that?” I asked.  This was the most I’d ever heard any Rangeman talk about himself.  Even Ranger.  I was completely fascinated. 

“Whenever a pretty lady was in danger,” he said with a sexy grin.  Oh boy.  I just figured out what was different about Lester.  He was a world-class flirt.  Sometimes I’m so slow.

Moving on, now.  There was something bothering me about the takedown with Wilkins.  I thought it over and decided to just spit it out.  “What was that crap you gave to Wilkins about me being ‘Ranger Manoso’s woman’?”

Lester took a sip of his beer.  “Wasn’t crap.”

“Ranger and I are not together.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not his woman.”

Huh?  “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

He looked down at his sandwich, then up at me again.  “It’s a guy thing, Ms. Plum.  You don’t have to understand.  Guys get it and that’s all that matters, ma’am.”

“That’s not good enough for me, Lester.  I don’t care that it’s a ‘guy thing’. I want to know what it means.”

Lester leaned back in his chair and tipped it back on the rear legs.  “A man doesn’t have to be married, engaged or otherwise attached to a woman to make her his.  All he has to do is lay a claim and make that claim known.”

“And Ranger’s done this?”  He nodded.  “Everywhere?”

“Everywhere that counts.  Stark Street, mostly, since you spend a lot of time down there picking up skips.”

Wow.  I wasn’t even sure what to say to that.  Part of me was flattered and even a little thrilled that Ranger “laid claim” on me.  The other part wanted to smack him upside his head.  What a Neanderthal thing to do!  I’ll argue that one out with myself later. 

I cleared my throat and decided to change the subject.  “Lester, do you know much about the financial end of the business?”

He gave me a curious look. “Some.  Why?”

“I received a bill from Rangeman for bodyguard services and some other stuff.  It’s for a lot of money.”

“How much?”

“Over 200,000.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise.  “Was it signed by Ranger?”  I nodded.  “Did you talk to Tank about this?”

“Yeah, he said to ignore it.  And I did, but then I got another one about setting up a payment plan.”

Lester looked thoughtful for a moment and then laughed quietly.  “Ms. Plum, do you know the definition of a mercenary?”

“Yeah, it’s somebody that is motivated solely by money.”

“That’s right.  Knowing Ranger, he’s already informed you that he’s a mercenary.  Right?”

I wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but I answered. “Right.”

He laced his fingers together on top of the table and leaned in, lowering his voice.  “If he knew I was telling you this, he’d kick my ass.  

The fact is Ranger’s not really a mercenary, Ms. Plum.  Actually, Ranger cares very little about money.  It buys the cars, and pays the bills but when it comes down to it, it doesn’t mean anything to him.  What motivates Ranger is whatever he wants on any given day.  And frankly, Ms. Plum, what he wants…is you.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In the bathroom, I went through my makeup case.  The benefits of being a Burg girl were that I had every eyeshadow, lipstick and concealer known to mankind.  I looked at my reflection in the mirror again.  It looked like I’d had one wild night and a neck covered in hickies.  Yeah, I wish.  Bruises from Wilkins fingers had made an ugly circle around my throat.  I started dabbing foundation makeup over the marks.  They faded but were still visible.  Crap.  I put a second coat of concealer over the purple marks, then finished it with powder. 

I fluffed my hair around to try and cover the bruises along the sides of my neck.  Better, but if anyone got close enough to me they’d be able to see everything.  It had only been a week since my altercation with Wilkins and my lunch with Lester. 

I stuffed my stun gun and pepper spray into my bag and headed down to the parking lot.  I was stuck with the Big Blue Beast until my insurance company sent me the check for the Honda.  I jammed the key into the ignition and bit my lip when the engine turned over.  This thing got about 5 miles to the gallon.  At $3.00 for a gallon of gas, I’m going to be eating Top Ramen just so I can drive this sucker around to catch my skips.

Ten minutes later I docked the boat in front of my cousin’s bond office.  Vinnie is a perverted slimy ferret and I wouldn’t even claim him as my cousin except that he signs my checks.  I walked in to the office to see Connie putting fire engine red polish on her 2-inch long nails. 

“Hey Connie,” I said as I handed over my body receipts from the previous day. 

“Hi Steph, there’s a few new ones for you here,” she said as she waved her hand toward a small stack of files. 

The office was unusually quiet. “Where’s Lula?”

“She said she wouldn’t be in today. She’s got an appointment down at the Curl A’Whirl.  Says she’s going to have orange tips done to match the manicure she got yesterday.” 

Which will probably match the neon orange mini dress she bought on Monday.  Only Lula. 

I picked up my files and headed for the door.  A quick glance at my watch told me it was about time for lunch. 

Five minutes later I wedged the Buick into a slot in Pino’s parking lot.  When I walked in, the smell of marinara and pepperoni made my mouth water.  I waved to Carl and Big Dog and I went up to the counter to place my order.  I picked up my beer and looked around for a table.  My eyes automatically traveled to the back booth and lo and behold there was a black-clad buff body in the seat against the wall. 

I walked over and smiled, “Hi Bobby, can I sit with you.”

Bobby smiled at me. “Ms. Plum,” he said with a nod, “please have a seat.”

I’d only met Bobby on three other occasions.  The first was a redecorating job that Ranger brought me in on where Tank dropped a drug dealer from a third story window.  The other two were when Tank brought him along to help me out with a skip.  We didn’t talk much either time, but he seemed really nice. 

For a Rangeman, Bobby was on the shorter side, maybe 5’10”.  His skin-tone wasn’t as dark as Tank’s, more coffee and cream than espresso.  His head was shaved but he had the beginnings of a 5 o’clock shadow.  He also had a tattoo, which is something I hadn’t seen on any other of Ranger’s Merry Men.  It was a large scrolling design that went from his shoulder down to the wrist of his right arm.  Like all of the other Rangemen, Bobby was built.  He wore an Army green t-shirt that stretched across his massive shoulders and clung to his washboard abs.  His pants were jungle camouflage cargos and he wore black steel-toed military-style boots. 

“Are you just here for lunch, Ms. Plum or were you in need of assistance?”

I had to smile.  The Rangemen were always willing to offer me a hand.  I wasn’t sure if that was under Ranger’s orders, but if it was, they didn’t seem to mind at all.  They were always pleasant to talk to. 

“No, I just stopped in for lunch.” 

Bobby leaned back in his seat and smiled, “Well, I’m feeling pretty lucky then to be having lunch with you, ma’am.”

I groaned. “Please don’t call me ma’am, Bobby.  It makes me feel like my mother.  Steph would be great, really.”

“My apologies, Ms. Plum.”

“Steph,” I said again although I knew it was a lost cause.  They all called me Ms. Plum – except Ranger.

Bobby just smiled at me again.  The waitress brought my order and Bobby and I ate in silence for a few moments. 

“Bobby, do you know when Ranger will be back in town?”

He shook his head, “Sorry Ms. Plum, when Ranger’s in the wind the only one who knows where he is at any given moment is Tank.  And, in case you haven’t figured out, Tank doesn’t talk about anything Tank doesn’t want to talk about.”

I laughed.  “Yeah, not like anyone’s going to MAKE him talk.”  I took a sip of my beer.  “I was just wondering about Ranger because he’s been gone so long.”

Bobby nodded, “Six weeks is a long time for him, but it must’ve been something important.  He doesn’t do much long-distance traveling anymore unless there’s a good reason.  Is there something going on that you need help with, Ms. Plum?  You haven’t picked up another stalker or anything, have you?”

I shook my head.  “No, nothing like that.  I just have something I need to ask Ranger about.”

“Is it something I can help you with?”

Well, hell. I’d talked to the other Merry Men, maybe Bobby would have an alternate theory.  I pulled out the Rangeman letters from my bag and slid them across the table to him.  “I’ve been getting these in the mail.  What do you make of them?”

Bobby pulled both letters out and read through them quietly.  His handsome face grew serious as he studied the letters then he looked up at me.  “Have you spoken with Tank about these, Ms. Plum?”

“Yes, when I got the first one.  He said to ignore it; that Ranger wasn’t charging me.  But, a few weeks later, I got the second one.  I showed them to a few friends of mine and they seem to think that Ranger’s got an ulterior motive in sending me these.”

Bobby looked thoughtful for a moment.  “Have you talked to anyone else from Rangeman about these?”

“Just Lester.”

Bobby chuckled, “I can imagine he was a font of information.”

“He seemed to agree with my friends.  He said that Ranger wants me.”

“I can agree that he wants you – has for a long while now, but I don’t think I can agree with your friends.  This isn’t Ranger’s style, Ms. Plum.  He’s not above a game of cat and mouse when it suits him, but not when it’s something this important.  Unless….”

I folded my hands on the table and leaned in, “Unless what?”

Bobby shook his head. “No, nevermind.”

“Spill it, Bobby.  Unless what?”

“Unless he wanted to set it up so that you were guilt-free.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Ranger makes it like a deal, so that you look at it as payback rather than a romantic thing.  This way, he gets to be with you and you’re not steppin’ out on the cop, you’re just paying your debt to Ranger.  Therefore, no guilt on your part – and no strings on his.  Kind of fucked up, in a way, but also very much Ranger logic.”

Kind of fucked up?  Yeah, just a little and also just a little too familiar.  I am so clueless sometimes it’s a wonder I can put my underwear on straight. 

I finished up my lunch and thanked Bobby for his input.  Tossing my wrappers in the trash I headed out to Big Blue.  I needed a hot bath and some time to think. 

I pulled into the only open slot in my parking lot which was next to the Dumpster.  Once I made it into the lobby, I checked my mailbox.  More bills and a letter from Rangeman.  Part of me was dying to open it, the other wanted to toss it on the floor and stomp on it a few times.  Being the mature individual, I chose to open it.  But not in the lobby.  I hopped on the elevator and made it up to my apartment.  I’d barely gotten the door shut before I was ripping open the envelope. 

I read the letter again and I still couldn’t believe it.  Ranger was threatening me!  I wasn’t so concerned with him garnishing my wages, since I made diddly-squat most of the time.  If he was planning to take money from my checks, he wouldn’t be getting paid off until we were both dead and dust from old age.  Taking my assets?  I owned a Honda Civic that was currently 60 feet under water and a hamster. Rex was an incredibly smart and cute hamster, but he wasn’t worth $239,000. 

That only left one possible way to pay him back. 

The thought of sleeping with Ranger gave me a low-down tingle.  Under normal circumstances, I’d be all over it.  But, this was anything but normal and the fact that he was strong-arming me into it made me feel slightly ill.  And thoroughly pissed off.  How dare he threaten to “proceed with legal action” in an attempt to scare me into sleeping with him!  Oh!  But it will be OK because it will be guilt-free and with no strings.  I picked up a pillow off of the sofa and flung it against the wall.  The soft “pffumf” sound didn’t do a whole lot to validate my mood.  I wanted something to crash. I wanted some declaration of the anger I was feeling. 

I looked around my apartment and short of smashing in my pathetic 19-inch Toshiba TV or one of my windows, there wasn’t anything I could crush.  I cursed my hand-to-mouth lifestyle that didn’t allow me to splurge on glassware.  Sadly, plastic cups weren’t that impressive when thrown against the wall.  In an effort to work off some of my anger, I stomped around the apartment.  Three laps later, I wasn’t feeling any better.

The more I thought about it the more I wanted to smack him.  I might wake up in the middle of Somalia the next day, but it’d be worth it.  I’ve always held Ranger up as the Gold Standard for knowing right and wrong; for living to his own moral code.  The fact that his moral code was turning out to be somewhat deficient disappointed me.  Lula and I joked about him being Batman, but I never thought I’d held Ranger up to that Superhero status.  I reminded myself all the time that he was a man, a gorgeous Sex God of a man, but still a man.  The reality of it is I’m mostly disappointed in myself for viewing Ranger with rose-colored glasses. 

The Opportunist.  The Mercenary.  He warned me…he did.  But I didn’t think it would ever be directed at me.  You think it would have sunk in after The Deal, but again with the rose-colored glasses.  I never saw Ranger as a bad guy.  I never saw him as someone who would push me into something I didn’t want.  Three more stomping laps around the apartment and I was madder than ever.  I stopped in the middle of my living room and heard the “thump thump” of Ms. Karwatt tapping on her ceiling with the broom handle.  My stomping around must have been rattling her whole apartment. 

I flopped down on the couch and picked up the TV remote.  Maybe a little television would help me calm down and think about this rationally.  News – I had enough bad news in my own life.  I don’t think I could stand any more right now.   Cooking with Celebrities – Do I really care if David Hasselhoff can make quiche?  American Idol – I’ve got Simon beat in the snarky bitch routine right about now.  Nope, television isn’t going to help.   

I jumped up and went into my kitchen, opening cupboards and looking for something – Tastykake, doughnuts, potato chips.  Empty.  Empty.  Empty.  Damn, looks like I’m going to have to go out.  I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door.

I swung the door open and Ranger was leaning against the door frame, looking as hot as he ever has.  The black leather jacket fit his shoulders perfectly, the tight black t-shirt showed off his hard body and the black Levi’s hugged his thighs like they were airbrushed on.  His eyes were warm and his smile was sexy.  At this point though, it wasn’t having its usual effect on me.

“Babe.”

I could feel his gaze burning into my back.  I bit my lip and turned around slowly to see Ranger standing in my doorway.  His feet were planted shoulder width apart and his arms were folded across his chest.  My gaze wandered up to see his dark eyes honed in on me.  One eyebrow was raised but I doubt he was amused, more like contemplating how much it would cost to FedEx me to Somalia.  He had no other expression on his face.  He just studied me quietly. 

Do you ever notice how loud silence can be?  It was deafening.  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from filling that silence. Truthfully, I was afraid of what would come out of my mouth.  I’d already called him an asshole.  That was like a 2.0 on the Richter scale of my male name calling repertoire.  There were so many other things I could have chosen…yep, best to keep my mouth shut until he talks first. 

Although, knowing Ranger, that could be quite a while.

Surprisingly, he didn’t make me wait too long.  “Mind explaining that?”

“What part of asshole did you not understand, Asshole?”  OK, guess my brain had other ideas.  I wonder what they wear in Somalia this time of year?

“We’ll get to that in a minute.”  He stepped into the room and slid off his jacket, draping it over the arm of my couch.  “Why’d you slam the door in my face, Stephanie?”

“Because I didn’t want to hurt my hand by punching you?”  I walked into the kitchen to get some water.  Being in the same room with him was stringing my nerves tight.  He looked completely edible and I hadn’t seen him in 6 weeks.  I didn’t know whether to kiss him or kick him.  The letters and the things his friends had said made me lean toward the kicking scenario.  I had a strong visual of racking Ranger’s balls.  Somehow I didn’t think I’d get that far.  He’d probably catch my knee and toss me on my ass before I could blink.  Scratch ball racking off the list. 

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that you’re upset with me.”

“No, I’m not upset.  I passed by upset 6 weeks ago.  Now I’m into MAJORLY PISSED OFF!”  I tossed my plastic cup into the sink and headed for the bedroom.  Man, I really need a bigger place.  It’s hard to storm off in a huff with just 750 square feet. 

Despite my head start, I never made it to my bedroom door.  Ranger grabbed a handful of my t-shirt and yanked me back against him.  His arms came around my waist and he rested his chin on my shoulder.  His voice was very soft as he said, “You are going to sit down and calmly tell me what this is about.  Then, whatever it is you think I’ve done we’ll work it out.  But this tantrum stops now.”

Tantrum?  TANTRUM?!  I’ll show him a goddamn tantrum!  I stomped down on his toe as hard as I could and Ranger yelped in surprise and released me.  I ran over to my bag and pulled out the Rangeman letters.  “You want to know what my problem is with you, Ranger?” I stalked over to him and slammed them against his chest.  “Here’s my problem!”

He pulled open one of the letters and unfolded it.  “I don’t know why you’re bothering to read the damn thing.  You wrote it!”  I turned on my heel and went into the bathroom, slamming the door.  I slumped down on the floor with my back to the wall.  I couldn’t hear a sound in the living room.  Not that Ranger was noisy or anything. 

Several minutes went by and still there was no sound.  Just when I thought he’d left there was a light knock on the door that made me jump.  “Come on out, Babe.”

“No!” 

His voice took a warning edge. “You want me to bring you out?  Because I can.”

“What, more threats?”

“You know better than that.  I don’t make threats.”

“Yeah, well the letter I got today says differently!” 

“We need to talk about the letters, Steph.  Come out.”

“Go to hell!”  There.  That should do it.  Now, he’ll toss the letters on the table and walk out.  I waited to hear the slamming of my front door but again, just silence.  The lock on the doorknob began to turn.  Fabulous.

The door opened slowly and Ranger leaned against the frame and looked at me.  He shook his head slightly and stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.  My bathroom is not that big.  There might have been about two feet between us.  He reached down and grabbed the front of my t-shirt and hauled me to my feet.

I tried to slap his hands away but it was useless.  Ranger wasn’t going to let me go until he was good and ready.  He pulled me in close.  There might have been room enough for a piece of paper to slide between us, but not much else. 

I put my hands on my hips and glared at him.  I couldn’t believe he was trying to intimidate me after all of the crap he’s pulled the last 6 weeks.  Ranger raised an eyebrow at me, then gave me a little shove up against the wall and pressed his body against mine.  He put a hand to either side of my head.

“Now,” he said, “you are going to tell me what this is about.”

“Fuck you.”

He chuckled and it was a warm rumble against me. “Maybe later, but apparently we have some issues that have to be worked out first.”

Excuse me?!  “You cannot be serious,” I said.  “You sent me a bill for $239,000!”  I poked a finger into his chest.  “No price for what we give each other, isn’t that what you said?”

He grabbed my finger in mid-poke and caressed the back of my hand with his thumb.  “Yes, that’s what I said.  No price.”

“Two hundred and thirty nine THOUSAND dollars.”  I pulled my hand back.  “If there’s no price, then what the hell is that?”

Ranger leaned in closer and put his mouth just below my ear. “What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know what to think!”  I tried to shove him back a few steps to get a little space between us.  I might as well have tried to move Mt. Everest.  “I talked to your Merry Men, Ranger.  I talked to Lula and Morelli.  And, with the exception of Tank, they all seem to think that this is some kind of plan to get me into bed.”

A warm shiver went down my spine as Ranger whispered in my ear, “If I wanted to get you into bed, Babe, I wouldn’t need a plan.”  He ran his lips lightly down my neck to my shoulder.  Suddenly it felt like the temperature in the room jacked up 20 degrees.  He brought a hand up and traced the outside curve of my breast with his fingertips.  My knees started feeling a little weak.  Ranger slipped his hand under my shirt and traced little patterns on my belly as he suckled on my earlobe.  I leaned up against the wall for support and Ranger moved in closer, leaned down and kissed me.  It started out soft, just a light brush of lips, but that didn’t last long.  He slanted his mouth over mine and slipped his tongue in, rubbing it against mine.  I tried to hold in the whimper as he deepened the kiss, but he heard it anyway.  His hands came up to cradle my face as he slowly gentled the kiss and then pulled away just a fraction of an inch.  “Now that I have your attention, let’s go in the living room and talk.”

I was trying to relearn how to breathe when his words sunk in.  “You wouldn’t need a plan?  What the hell is that supposed to mean?!  You think I’m just going to fall into bed with you whenever you want?” I shoved him hard and he took a step back and leaned against the sink.  “You think that because I owe you all of this money that I’m your whore now?” 

Uh-oh.  The look on his face was one I hadn’t seen directed at me before.  Usually, Ranger regarded me with affection and amusement; occasionally exasperation.  But I had never seen him angry at me before.  His eyes were flat and cold and there was a ticking muscle in his jaw.  His hands were slowly clenching and unclenching into fists.  Now I know why drug dealers wet their pants when they were faced with Ranger.  He was damn scary when he was mad.  I tried to step back but the wall was behind me; there was nowhere to go. 

Ranger reached down and opened the bathroom door without a word.  He grabbed my arm above the elbow and pulled me out of the bathroom and into the living room where he shoved me down to sit on the couch.  He picked up the letters off of the coffee table and read them silently as he paced in front of me.  After a few minutes of this, he dropped the letters back on the table and turned to face me. 

“When did you get the first letter?” he said calmly. 

“When did you write it?” I asked.  And OK, so I was a little snotty about it.  Ranger just stared at me.  I sighed, “Six weeks ago.”

“Hmm.   And the second?”

“Two weeks after that.  Why are you asking me this?  You wrote the things; or don’t you remember?”

“And the final one was today?”

“Yes. I found it in my box when I came home.  What’s with the questions?”

“I’m an asshole, Babe.  Remember?”  I was a little embarrassed by that.  I guess I shouldn’t have called him an asshole, but still…

Ranger looked me over thoughtfully.  “Two hundred thirty nine thousand and some odd dollars, right?”  I nodded.  “Hmm.  I figure 3 to 5 ought to cover it.”

“Huh?”  Ranger slipped off his leather coat and pulled the t-shirt over his head.  My mouth went dry at the sight of all that mocha latte goodness.  “What are you doing?”

“Collecting.”

Collecting?  He pulled off his boots and unbuckled his belt.  I just stood there and stared like an idiot.  I couldn’t believe this was happening.  I sucked back some drool as he undid the top button of his pants.  Just watching him slowly strip was making me sweat in unusual places.  I wasn’t sure whether to be pissed off or turned on.  Or maybe pissed off that I was turned on. 

“What do you mean, collecting?  And what’s with the 3 to 5 thing?”

“You said you owe me $239,000.  You don’t own anything you can sell to cover it.  DeChooch was 12 hours.  Two hundred thirty nine grand is gonna be about 3 to 5...years, depending on if it’s every day or not.”  He walked slowly toward me, eyeing me like a starving man at a lunch buffet. 

He stopped in front of me and slipped his hands under my t-shirt, drawing me in closer.  His tongue flicked my earlobe and he placed soft kisses down my throat as he reached behind me and unsnapped my bra.  Whoa, hang on!  I put a hand on his chest and pushed him back a little.  “Wait just a damn minute!  Three to five YEARS?!?!  Are you out of your freakin’ mind?  You think I’m going to be your whore for five years of my life?  No way…no fucking way.”  I stepped back and turned away from him.  “You want your money?  Sue me.”

Ranger came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me back against him.  “I never said I wanted the money.  You aren’t my whore or anyone else’s.  You’re the one who said you owed me $239,000.”

“I didn’t say it!  You sent me a bill, dammit!”  Ok, I was getting totally confused by this. 

“No, I didn’t.”

Huh?  I pulled away from him and picked up the first letter, turning it around so that he could see it.  “Isn’t that your signature?  Doesn’t that say Rangeman?”

“Yes, that’s my signature and yes, it’s from Rangeman.  But I didn’t send it.”  He hooked his finger in the waistband of my jeans and tugged me closer.  “When I said no price, I meant no price.  You could blow up every car I own and my building besides and I wouldn’t expect you to pay me back.”  He leaned down and kissed me lightly. “I love you, Steph.”

That was nice to hear and I filed it away for future reference.  Who knows when I might be blowing up something else?  “Ok, so if you didn’t send it, why were you trying to collect?”  

Ranger gave me a sexy grin and shrugged, “I told you before, I’m an opportunist.  If you feel the need to pay me back by letting me make love to you, you think I’m going to walk away from that?  I’m a mercenary, I’m not crazy.”

He leaned down to kiss me again, but I put my hand to his mouth.  “So if you didn’t send them, and there’s no price, and you’re not going to make me your sex slave for the next 5 years, then who in the hell sent them?”

“Sex slave?” he grinned and raised an eyebrow.  His hands started to slide up the front of my shirt. 

“Focus, Ranger.  Who sent me the letters?”

He gave a little sigh and sat down on the couch, pulling me into his lap.  I could feel the warmth of his body through my t-shirt.  He reached over to his jacket on the back of the couch and pulled out his cell phone.  He hit #8, and turned on the speakerphone so I could hear.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Manoso,” said a pleasant male voice. “What can I help you with today?”

“Put Lowell on the phone.”

“Yes, sir.  Just one moment.”

“Hello Carlos, what I can I do for you?”

“I want you to look up the account for Stephanie Plum and tell me what you find.”

“But Carlos, there is no account for Stephanie Plum – as per your orders.”

“Not according to the collection letters she’s been receiving.  I supposedly signed a letter dated yesterday, threatening legal action if she didn’t pay $239,000 within 10 days.”

“Oh dear.”

“Look it up.  I’ll wait.”

I could hear some clicking as Lowell typed some information into his computer.  “There is an itemized file for Stephanie Plum that we keep for tax purposes, but all funding for that comes from line item 13.”  I heard some more typing.  Then it was quiet for a moment.  “It appears that someone has accessed Ms. Plum’s file without authorization.”

Ranger’s eyes went dark.  Uh-oh, looks like somebody else is heading to Somalia.  “Give me a name.”

More clicking and then he said, “Our billing service recently outsourced some of it’s workload to a private contractor.  It appears that the password protection on the file was compromised.  The tracking notation says that it was modified by a JEB.  I am not familiar with that person.”

“I am,” said Ranger carefully.  “Thank you.  I’ll be in touch.”  He closed the phone and tucked it back into his jacket pocket. 

“JEB?” I asked. 

Ranger looked thoughtful for a moment.  “Jeanne Ellen Burrows.”

Ranger shook his head. “Those are her initials, but it’s not her style. If Jeanne Ellen wanted to cause a rift between us she’d have been a lot more creative than this.”

“How creative?” 

“She would have been naked in my bed and found a reason for you to show up and find her there.”

“And is she in your bed a lot?”

“Babe.”

“It’s an honest question.”

“Jeanne Ellen has never been in my bed.”

“I thought you two…never?”

“You should know better than to listen to gossip.”

“I know but you two seem so much alike.  Were you partners or something?”

“Or something.”

“What does that mean?”

Ranger was quiet for a moment.  “Making love to Jeanne Ellen would be like getting intimate with a tiger.  Cool and beautiful on the outside, but wouldn’t hesitate to slash your throat as soon as you weren’t looking.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ranger dialed his phone with practiced ease.  “Hello, Jeanne.”

I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but I watched Ranger’s face as he spoke.  There was no flirting, no smiles, no warmth in his eyes.  If he and Jeanne Ellen had had an intimate relationship at one point, it was pretty clear that was no longer the case.  He wasn’t rude, but he wasn’t polite either.

“We need to talk.  My office, 3pm.  No.  Today.”  He frowned for a moment.  “Just be there,” he said and he hung up.

*~*~~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I’d heard a lot about Jeanne Ellen Burrows – even semi-worked with her once.  She was the female equivalent to Ranger in skill and stealth.  And when she walked into the office, I had the strange urge to scratch her eyes out.

At 5’9” she had a few inches on me.  I was no slouch when I put my mind to it, but JEB looked fantastic and also as if she didn’t give much of a damn about her looks.  How in the hell did she manage that? 

Her long flame-red hair flowed over her shoulders in corkscrew curls.  The fact that she wore a cream silk camisole under a low-cut black leather vest just accented how bright her hair was.  Her makeup was flawless and understated; setting off her peaches-and-cream complexion.  She had legs up to her tits; encased in black leather pants that left nothing to the imagination.  She wore low-heeled black ankle boots that had silver chains around them with tiny padlocks that clicked when she walked.  A 9mm Beretta was strapped to her thigh.  She looked like the BarbieSlut pin-up for Soldier of Fortune.  It occurred to me that she was dressed to impress.  No way was she hunting bounty in that get-up.  She wore it to get to Ranger and THAT’S why I wanted to scratch her eyes out. 

He said they had been “or something” but the look on her face said that they’d been a hell of a lot more than that and she was looking to do it again.  I glanced at him and he looked amused but not particularly interested.  He offered her a seat across from us.  She sashayed into the room and folded herself into the seat, crossing her legs.  She gave me an assessing look with her hazel-green eyes. 

“Stephanie,” she said coolly. 

“Hello, Jeanne Ellen,” I replied casually.  See?  I could be a grown-up…sometimes.

Ranger didn’t waste any time, he just handed Jeanne Ellen the letters from Rangeman.  She leaned back in the chair and quietly reviewed the pages.  When she was finished, she tossed them on the table and gave Ranger an assessing look.  “Feel free to fill me in on how this involves me.” She looked over at me and then back to Ranger.  “Well?”

Ranger stared at her for a full minute before answering.  I fidgeted and resisted the urge to jump in with my own comments.  He’d asked me to let him handle it…so I was letting him handle it.  For now.  “Records show that a “JEB” let herself into my accounting system and accessed Steph’s file.”

“And you think that’s me?”  She laughed with a toss of her glossy curls.  “Really, Ranger…you should know me better than that.”  She smirked at me, “What did you think Stephanie, that I was after your man?”

“Crossed my mind,” I said. 

She laughed again.  “I hate to disappoint you, sweetheart, but I’ve been there, done that and what he’s got no longer interests me.”  She turned back to him again.  “If I wanted to hack your security system, and we both know how easy that would be for me, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave my initials behind.”

“That’s debatable.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, “Don’t go there.  It’s not somewhere you want to be.”  She shoved her chair back and stood up.  “Next time you want to go fishing, Ricardo, you should use better bait.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he responded coolly.  We both watched as Jeanne Ellen spun on her heel and stalked out of the room.  Somehow, I’m feeling like I’m missing some really important backstory. 

“Ok…..what was that about?  And, ‘been there, done that’?  I thought you said you and Jeanne Ellen weren’t lovers.”

“I said she’d never been in my bed.” 

“So you two were lovers?” I asked, even though I really didn’t want to know the details.

“No.” 

“Ranger,” I said.  He was dodging the damn question.  “Did you or did you not sleep with Catwoman?”

The corners of his mouth twitched and he reached out and pulled me into his lap.  He rested his chin on my shoulder with a sigh.  “Jeanne Ellen has never been in my bed.  Truth.  Since I’ve been divorced, the only woman that’s been in my bed is you.”  I turned to look at him in surprise.  “Doesn’t mean I’ve been a monk; just means that I don’t necessarily trust the women I have sex with.” 

Ok, I guess that made sense. 

“When I came into town, Jeanne Ellen and I were paired up on a case together.”

“So you seduced her?” I asked. 

“No.  Seduction was not on the table that night.  Jeanne Ellen is a stone-cold bitch when she wants something and she made it clear what she wanted from me.  And I gave it to her – exactly how she wanted it.”

“OK, so you guys were what?  Fuck buddies?”  I know I was pushing but I really wanted to pin this down. 

“Babe, Jeanne Ellen is a lesbian.”

I felt my eyes get big.  Holy cow.  “So, more Batwoman than Catwoman.  OK, um, if she’s lesbian what did she want with you?”

“To get her pregnant.”

I nearly fell over onto the floor.  Say what?!  “And?”

“It didn’t happen.  She said she wanted me to drill her into the mattress.”  He shrugged, “I hadn’t had sex in a few months, she’s beautiful, I figured what the hell.  It was only afterwards she told me that she hoped the resulting baby had my skin color.”  He shook his head at the memory, “I thought she was going to shoot me when I told her I’d had a vasectomy after my daughter was born.”

“Oh, boy.”  It was all I could think of to say.

He chuckled humorlessly, “Yeah.  Anyway, we know Jeanne Ellen didn’t send you the letters.  You still want to find out who’s behind this?”

I chewed on my lip.  Did I really want to find out?  Damn skippy.  “Yeah, I do.”

He nodded, “OK, first thing tomorrow we’ll start on it again.”

I looked at my watch.  It was only 4:00pm.  “What are we going to do until then?”

I woke at dawn to find myself covered in naked Ranger.  Not that I’m complaining, just an observation.  I was flat on my back and Ranger was lying on top of me; his cheek pillowed against my breast, his arms snug against my sides with his hands curled around my body, his well-defined torso was pressed against my abdomen (and lower things) and his legs were between mine.  What had started in his office quickly moved to the elevator, then the living room of his penthouse and had ended up in his King size bed with the 1000 thread count sheets. 

His face looked different when he was sleeping, softer somehow, and allowed me to see shades of the little boy he once had been.  His eyelashes were dark against his cheek, his lips were full and soft – he looked peaceful which was something I never saw on him.  Ranger was always on full alert, even at rest.  This was the second time I’d seen him like this; the first being our first time together.  Then, I’d been afraid to go to sleep in case he disappeared and I discovered it had all been a really hot dream.  His silky dark hair fell across his shoulders and I traced a finger along one of the dark strands.  Ranger took in a deep breath and turned his face up toward mine as he opened his eyes.  He gave me a lazy, sexy smile.  “Morning, Babe.”

“Hi,” I whispered.  I don’t know why I was whispering since it was just the two of us, but with the gray light of dawn and the apartment so quiet, whispering seemed the right thing to do.

He nuzzled the inside curve of my left breast and then kissed it gently.  “Ready to run?” he asked.

“You’re kidding, right?”  He grinned at me and shook his head.  “The last twelve hours was exercise enough for me.  But you go ahead.  I’ll just stay right here until you get back.”

He chuckled and then propped himself up on his arms, leaned over and kissed me.  “OK, I can see that I wore you out last night.” The grin was back now. “Maybe I’ll have to help you with some more exercise when I get back.”  In a quick movement he rolled off of me and over to the edge of the bed.  He patted my thigh. “Go ahead; rest.  You’re going to need it.”

Oh boy!!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After my morning workout and shower, Ranger and I headed out to the Bonds office to see if anything new had come in.  When we walked into the office, Connie was putting the clear top coat of polish on her manicure, Lula was sitting on the sofa against the wall flipping through the Brangelina issue of People. 

I could feel Ranger at my back as we stepped into the room.  Normally, he doesn’t leave a lot of space between us.  Today, if he’d been any closer we’d have needed the Jaws of Life to separate us.  I felt his fingers trail across my lower back and I couldn’t keep the grin off my face on pain of death.  I looked up at him over my shoulder and smiled.  He smiled back and Lula practically did an old-fashioned Hollywood swoon. 

“Day-am!” Lula said breathlessly.  “Girlfriend, you are my hero!”  I looked back at her not quite sure what she was talking about. “You laid Batman!!” You can say a lot about Lula, but subtle is not one of her talents.

I closed my eyes as I felt the blush creep up my neck and over my face.  I don’t know what it is but people can always tell when I’ve had a night of great sex.  Maybe I should just get a sign that says “Yes, I got laid, so what?”  I glanced over my shoulder to see Ranger’s reaction.  The look he shot her wasn’t friendly even though his fingers never stopped moving against my skin.  Ranger did not like his personal business broadcast in public. 

Lula’s eyes tracked from Ranger to the front window.  She made the sign of the cross, “Look out, here comes the Anti-Christ.” 

Joyce Barnhardt stormed into the office.  She was about my size but…more.  More makeup, more hair, more boobs, more ass…and definitely more attitude - all bad.  She stopped short when she saw Ranger and I standing so close together.  Her eyes narrowed on us as she looked from me to Ranger and back.  “No way,” she said, shaking her bleach-blond head.  “No fucking way.”

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked.

“You two are NOT together.”  It was more question than statement.  I didn’t quite know how to answer her.  Ranger and I were standing together, and we’d certainly been together in the Biblical sense a few hours earlier, but I think she meant relationship-together and I just didn’t have an answer for that one.  I looked up at Ranger to see if he had any idea how to answer her.   He looked down at me and then her and nodded once.  Well, there you go, efficiency at its best.

The color came up in Joyce’s cheeks, her eyes narrowed to beady slits and I swear to God I thought her head was going to spin around like that kid in “The Exorcist”.  She stalked right up to me and I felt myself lean back against Ranger’s chest in case she started spewing pea soup.  “You!” she snarled, poking her finger in my chest, “you couldn’t leave him alone, could you?!  One just wasn’t enough for you.  First it was Morelli sharing his goddamn cookie with you in 2^nd grade, then you let him nail you in high school.  You were all he could talk about until graduation.  ‘Stephanie’s so sweet.  Stephanie’s got a body that could stop traffic.  Stephanie’s got eyes like the night sky.’  It made me want to heave the way Morelli talked about you.  Then he went into the Navy and I thought when he got out and became a cop, things would be different.  But no, it wasn’t.  He still acted like you were the goddamn Madonna.  When you married The Dick, I caught Morelli at the Blue Cue on a bender.  I almost had him on the pool table, but he was sloppy drunk and babbling about his ‘beautiful Stephanie” marrying that asshole.”

I was getting a little worried about Joyce, she was starting to froth at the mouth.  I also could not believe what I was hearing.  Joyce had the hots for Morelli all those years?  Joyce was jealous of me and Morelli?  Joyce and Morelli on a pool table.  Boy, wouldn’t that have been a bad morning-after?

“What, you think I screwed The Dick because he was a stud in the sack?  The guy could barely find his own prick with both hands and a compass.”  I felt Ranger chuckle silently behind me.  I’m glad someone was finding this amusing.  “I screwed him because I hate you, Plum.  I’ve hated you since the first day of 2^nd grade and I’m going to hate you until you die of old age.”   She poked me in the chest again for emphasis.  One more poke and I was going to deck her.  That was really starting to bug me.  “Morelli got popped for an FTA and I thought he hated you for turning him in.  Next thing I know, the two of you end up screwing like bunnies!” 

“So, this is all about Morelli?” I asked.

“No, you stupid bitch,” she snapped.  “This is all about you.  What the hell is it about you that attracts gorgeous men?”  She looked me over like I was dog crap on the bottom of her shoe.  “First Morelli, now him,” she said pointing at Ranger.  “You snap your fingers and he jumps.  He loans you cars and has his goon squad guard you.  This wasn’t how it was supposed to work out.  You should hate his guts right now.  Instead, you both look like you can barely stand not to jump each other.”

I nearly did a physical forehead smack.  God, sometimes I’m so slow.  “JEB,” I said.  “It was you!  You sent the letters from Rangeman!”

“No shit, Sherlock.  Of course, it was me,” she said.

Lula, who along with Connie had been silently gaping through this whole thing, stood up.  “Wait a minute,” she said, “Joyce sent the letters?  Joyce?  OK, I get the J is for Joyce and the B is for Barnhardt but what the heck does the E stand for?”

I smiled because I knew Joyce hated her middle name.  “Eugenia,” I said on a snicker.  Both Connie and Lula burst out laughing. 

Joyce pointed her finger at them. “Shut up, you cows!”

Ranger laid a look on Joyce that made most smart people check their pants.  “How’d you get into my computer system?” he said quietly and a shiver went down my spine at the menacing note in his voice.  

Joyce was not known for being the brightest bulb in the box.  “Yeah, how did you get into the Rangeman computers?  You flunked typing in 11th grade.  Do you even know how to turn on a computer?”

She gave Ranger what I’m sure she thought was a seductive look.  Personally, I thought she looked like she just ate a lemon.  “I have my ways,” she purred. 

Somehow I don’t think Ranger was all that impressed.  He slid his hands forward and hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of my jeans, tugging me backwards against him.  “I have the same security on my system that they use at the Pentagon.  So, whatever your ‘ways’ were, I want to know.  I’m just a small-time security firm, but if you’ve got the capability to hack the US Government then I’m going to have to notify my friend at the Secret Service.”

Joyce paled a little under her makeup, which is just as scary-looking as you might think.  She got over the look of shock on her face and then she was pissed again, but apparently not at me anymore.  “That little piss-ant!  If he thinks I’m taking the fall for this, he’s out of his fucking mind!”  She snatched her cell phone off the holster at her hip and started punching numbers in while she muttered.  “Monster cock or not, that little fucker is not going to hang me out to dry!” 

Me, Ranger, Lula and Connie just stared at her in amazement as she rattled on.  Evidently she got the piss-ant’s answering machine. “Answer the phone you little shit!” she paused for a moment, “Fine!  I know you’re there Randy.  You said that they wouldn’t be able to trace anything back to me and that she’d never figure it out.  Well she did and freakin’ Rambo-boy is threatening me with the goddamn Secret Service.  You better get your miniaturized ass in gear and straighten this shit out.  This wasn’t part of our deal!”  She punched the end button so hard I thought I heard the phone crack.

Suddenly everything was clear.  Randy?  Miniaturized ass?  I looked at Joyce in stunned disbelief.  Joyce Barnhardt and Randy Briggs.  Wow, there was a match made in Hell.  “You got Randy Briggs to help you break into Ranger’s computer system?  Randy hates everybody.  How did you get him to help you?”  Joyce smiled at me and it was an evil smile.  I had a really nasty visual of Joyce and Randy together.  Man, I SO didn’t need that.  I held up a hand to stop anything she might say. “Forget it.  I really, REALLY don’t want to know.”

“I do!” said Lula and Connie in unison.  Of course, Joyce was more than happy to tell them the nasty, sordid details. 

Before she could begin, I just had one thing left to say.  I cuddled into Ranger’s embrace and gave Joyce my best Miss America smile.  “By the way, Joyce, I just wanted to thank you for what you’ve done.  Without you sending me the Rangeman letters, Ranger and I probably wouldn’t have gotten together.  So, thanks.”  I turned my face up to Ranger’s and he leaned over and kissed me.  Tongue and everything. 

And, just as I knew it would, it sent Joyce into a screaming hissy fit and she stormed out of the office in a huff.