A/N: All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Mia's mine, though! And don't worry...it's still a Babe story. I'm a Stephanie-Ranger fan until the end!

I mean the best with what I say
It doesnt always sound that way
I never learned to work things out
Cause in my family all we ever seem to do to is shout

"Safe Place" by Staind

xXx

There aren't many women in the world who can honestly say they love their jobs. I am one of the select few. I love my job. My name is Mia Marinella and I own a bail bonds agency. My favorite part of that business is hunting down the idiots who think they can cheat me out of my money. It's a little sadistic, I know. That's just the kind of girl I am. Today was one of my better days. I had tracked down a big paycheck, Lee Anthony, and dumped him at the Baltimore Police Department, collecting my money on the way out. He had multiple drug convictions and, hopefully, the bail would be set somewhere no one would bother to post. Not that I would have argued if they did. I could get him back just as easily.

His capture was one of those that just fueled my already ridiculous ego. He'd been hiding out at a friend's house, two doors down from his own. He even had the gall to walk back to his house once night fell. As if no one would notice that. I could have easily snatched him on his way to his house one night. I decided to do it the hard way, though. I like to make a scene. I like to show people what happened when they tried to cross me. I waited until he made it back to his hide out and was successfully locked in the basement. Then, I climbed out of my car and walked to the front door.

A rather large guy with a big scar above his left eye looked me up and down. "Yeah?"

I wasn't a very intimidating woman. I was a little under five and a half feet with just enough muscle to keep me out of the underweight category. My hair was dark, thanks to my Italian heritage, and hung down to my back. I had it pulled back in a tight ponytail today. I'd even had the decency to put on a little make up. Eye liner, mascara, and a dash of blush for my pale cheeks. I probably looked more like a lost puppy in my jeans and tank top than a bounty hunter. That was the whole point. I was sneaky.

"Oh, hi. I was looked for Mr. Anthony." I batted my eyes a little.

The big guy raised an eyebrow, looked around behind him, then shrugged and let me in. As soon as I counted the people in the room, only four, I sprung to action. The big guy went down hard. They always do. The two closer men came out me, but I sidestepped just in time and sent them both into the wall behind me. They went down, too. The last guy looked at me with wide eyes, then made a run for the back door. I caught him easily and sent him to the ground with a knee in his throat.

"Give me the key," I said in a low voice.

The poor guy was shaking as he dug the key out of his pocket and handed it to me. After that, it was a walk in the park. Anthony had heard the scuffle and was waiting on the stairs, hands up. I cuffed him, threw him into my car, and headed to the police department. Piece of cake. I hadn't even brought a weapon with me. Some people called me stupid, I thought I was resourceful. And good.

"Hey, Mia." Jack Harvey, one of the uniforms, stopped me on my way out. "Nice job bringing Anthony in."

I smiled slightly at him. Harvey was one of those guys who thought he could just smile at a woman and her pants would come flying off. It gave me a huge sense of success to turn him down every chance I got. "Thanks."

"How about a drink tonight to celebrate?"

"No, thanks." I opened the back door with my back, still smiling. "I don't date uniforms."

His eyes narrowed as I pushed into the bright sun. It was the middle of June and even Maryland was scorching. I slid my sunglasses over my nose, climbed into my big, black Hummer, and drove off. I'd made enough money in one day to fund my operation for a whole month. Did I mention I loved my job?

I parked in the back of my office, sliding into the back door and lurking in the store room while I listened for voices. I definitely didn't want to walk through to my office if Anna Herling was still there. I smiled when I only heard the quiet sound of my receptionist, Donna Dunby, filing her nails. I walked into the front office and smiled at Donna, slapping the check on her desk.

"Congratulations," she said with absolutely no enthusiasm, not taking her eyes off her nails. "You got your man. What a surprise."

I waved off her attitude and plopped down on the soft, leather couch. "Anyone close to their court dates?" I asked, still running off the high of an easy catch.

"Yes. I called them and they all promised they'd be there. Let's face it, Mia, people are too afraid of you to run anymore."

"Please," I scoffed. "The day criminals grow a conscience is the day I'm out of a job."

"I never said they had a conscience," she clarified. "I just said they were scared of you."

I chuckled, leaning on the arm of the couch and studying Donna. She was pretty, in a high maintenance sort of way. She had wavy brown hair that framed her heart shaped face and a pair of very fake breasts that she insisted on showing off. She paid for them, she claimed, so she ought to be able to flaunt them. It didn't bother me, really. I didn't envy her and I didn't think she was scaring away any customers. My business wasn't the type to be intimidated by big boobs. Big boots, maybe.

"So, how's life?"

She rolled her eyes. "Why don't you go find someone to rough up or something? You're entirely to energetic for me."

I laughed, then glanced out the glass store front. "It's too pretty to just rough someone up for no reason. And too hot."

"Anna said she'd be by later."

"Ugh. I better go, then." Anna was my younger brother, Kirby's, girlfriend and just the sound of her voice drove me up the wall. She seemed to find me amazing, though, and spent every free moment she had trying to emulate me. It wasn't amusing.

Donna smiled victoriously. She was trying to get rid of me and that tactic had worked.

I pushed off the couch and headed for my office. "On second thought, I think I'll stick around. Paperwork and whatnot."

She visibly deflated. I always wondered what she did when she managed to get me away. I had a feeling she was screwing the guy who owned the pastry shop next to my office. Yet another thing I didn't care about. So long as she didn't do it on my desk.

I sat down and frowned at the blinking light on my phone. "Hey, Donna, did I get any calls?"

"Oh, yeah." She spun around in her chair to look at me. "Some man called."

Sometimes, I wasn't sure why I paid Donna. She really wasn't a very good receptionist. Then, I remembered. It was out of pity. And a small amount of guilt. It was my fault, after all, that she didn't win that pageant so many years ago. And of course, that was the down fall of her modeling career. I had tried to justify the whole thing to myself, but I was a softie at heart. Plus, it wasn't hurting me to have her around. I pretty much ran my business on my own.

With a sigh, I picked up my phone and listened to my voice mail. As soon as I heard the deep voice, a smile spread across my face.

"Marinella, it's Manoso. Call me."

Ah, the man of many words. I'd known Manoso since the good old days, back in the Army. I'd helped his ass more than once out of a tight situation, and it looked like he was in need again. I'd kept up with him and his close-knit group after I was freed of my contract. Ranger, as most people called him, owned a very profitable security company in Trenton, New Jersey. Only a couple hours from my little piece of Baltimore. I strummed my fingers across my desk and thought about the implications of his call. Certainly, something had to be pretty bad for him to call me. Ranger wasn't one to admit that he needed help. Especially from a woman. And especially from me. Let's just say we hadn't parted on the best of terms last time.

That wasn't my fault, as much as he tried to pin the whole thing on me. Remembering that particular fight brought back bad memories, though so I pushed it away and stopped stalling. I picked up the phone, dialing a number that hadn't changed since I'd known him.

"Yo," he answered abruptly.

"Manoso," I greeted with a smile. "You called?"

"Marinella." He shuffled with something, then I heard a door close. "I need your help."

"So I gathered." I leaned back in my chair and studied the painting on the opposite wall. "Go ahead. Tell me what's going on."

After a second to compose his thoughts, he dove in. "I had one of my guys undercover in a gang here in Trenton. He's gone silent."

"What's the plan?" I asked, brain switching to military mode automatically.

"I'd like to get him out as quietly as possible. I have a feeling something went wrong."

I glanced at my computer. I could book a flight. It would probably take less time to drive, though. "I'll be there in two hours."

"I'll tell them to watch for you," he said before hanging up.

I picked up the spare bag I kept packed for situations just like this one, and headed for the door. "I'm out for a few days, Donna. I'll call you if something changes. Make sure people make it to their court dates."

"Yeah, yeah." She waved me off with a small smile. "Have fun catching the bad guys."

"Not catching a bad guy, this time." I took a deep breath, then moved toward the back door. "I'm saving a good guy."

The two hour drive took entirely too long, in my mind. I kept cursing myself for not asking Manoso who was in the shit. Not that it would have changed my reaction. I would have helped had I known the guy or not. But, if it was someone I knew...if it was him... I took a deep breath and focused on the road. I was navigating the streets of Trenton, my GPS barking orders every few minutes. When I finally turned into the parking lot under his tall office building, I was bursting pent up energy.

A large man I didn't recognize was standing at the elevator, waiting for me. I clicked the button to set the alarm on my Hummer and got into the elevator with a small nod in greeting. He had a tattoo across the top of his head, I noticed with a small smile. I liked him.

"I'm Mia," I introduced myself as the elevator climbed.

"Cal," he said quietly.

Who would have thought the guy with the balls to get his head tattooed was the silent type? I waited impatiently as the elevator continued to ding, finally following Cal onto the fifth floor, where I ran into a few faces I actually recognized. Apparently, Manoso hadn't bothered to tell them I was coming, because they looked pretty stunned to see me.

"Mia?" Bobby Brown took a tentative step forward. "What the hell are you doing here?" He asked with a huge, white smile, pulling me into a hug.

"Well, you know. I was getting bored." I laughed and pinched his dark cheek. "And I missed my favorite guys."

Tank was behind Bobby, with a small smile on his very large face. Tank was a big guy, even for someone like me who'd met their fair share of big guys. He had his massive arms crossed over his chest, watching me.

"Well?" I mirrored his stance. "Are you just going to stand there or are you going to hug me?"

He broke out into a full smile and took a step forward, picking me up off the ground easily and slinging my body around. When he put me down, his smile had actually grown. "How are you?"

"Never been better, big guy." I pat his arms and looked around the room. A few guys were looking at me with confused faces, but I didn't see the one I was looking for. "Who is it, Tank?"

His face sobered immediately. "Come on. Ranger's probably waiting. I didn't realize he'd called you." He sighed and led me through the room. People snapped back to work when Tank and I passed, trying their hardest not to let curiosity take over.

I caught sight of a woman and that almost stopped me in my tracks. She was in a little cubicle in the corner, hunched over a stack of paperwork, apparently oblivious to the world. Her brown, curly hair was in a messy bun and she was chewing on a pencil. "Tank," I pointed toward the woman. "Who's that?"

Tank glanced in the direction I pointed, then smiled slightly. "Don't worry. You'll meet her soon enough." He pushed me into Ranger's office, scowl back in place. "You could have told us you were calling in back up."

Ranger looked at Tank with narrowed eyes, then noticed me standing behind him. That was his queue to get down to business. "Meeting in five."

Tank nodded and left.

I moved to a chair opposite Ranger and sat, smiling slightly. "Who is it?" I asked again.

He sighed. "Santos."

My heart fell into my stomach. I had a feeling. I tried to think positively, though. Lester was a big boy. He knew how to take care of himself. He'd proved that to me before. It still broke me somewhere, deep inside, to know that he was probably in a lot of trouble and I was sitting around talking tactics. I needed to get him out. I needed to know he was safe. And I was going to do just that.