NOTE: This story continues with Lester Santos about nine months after the end of Plum Dirty. Pairing will be Lester and my OFC, and yes, there will be smut. Plenty of it. And dirty, dirty jokes, because my OFC has a lot more in common with me than I would ever normally write a character, but you can get away with it in fanfiction. Don't worry, she only shares a few minor points with me, so hopefully she won't come off as Mary Sue. Stephanie and Ranger will be present and their relationship is secure, so no worries there. No clue if Diesel will drop in. Could happen, but who knows?
I'm using Google Maps to choose locations in Trenton and most places and streets I mention will be real if you want to plug them into the internet and get a view. Of course, I can't see the inside of anything, so I'll be making that up, and some locations might describe buildings that obviously aren't the reality.
Can't wait to hear what you think!
SPOILERS: Let's just assume that it spoils everything JE has ever written in the Plum universe, okay?
RATING: Language, mild violence, adult themes. This chapter is pretty tame, but don't get the wrong idea, savvy?
CHAPTER ONE:
I stepped out of the Guatepan Bakery onto the corner of Beatty and Genesee already reaching into my cargos for my car keys and holding a cup of coffee so hot it was burning my hand through the cup and the coffee collar. I scanned the street habitually as my foot hit the step, categorizing vehicles, noting pedestrians. It was mid-afternoon in Trenton and the streets were mostly deserted.
The sun was blazing hot for June. Thankful for my mirrored shades, I headed for the Explorer when I heard a shout. I turned, looking east down Genesee and saw a man running flat out toward me. I moved aside, my eyes sliding past him to spot a woman chasing not far behind.
"Stop!" she shouted but the guy didn't even break stride, hauling across the intersection to continue west on Genesee.
The woman had almost reached me, covering ground with long strides, her arms pumping. A group of chattering bakery customers suddenly piled out of Guatepan, blocking the sidewalk and the woman's pursuit. I saw her eyes doing a quick scan before she dodged toward me, jumped up to plant one foot high on the door of my truck and launched herself past, sliding between me and the Explorer so close I felt her leg brush against me and I fumbled my coffee, swearing as it almost spilled.
"Sorry!" the woman called without looking back, booking across the street.
Curious now, I followed. I was taking a break from surveillance, enjoying an hour of downtime before I'd be back to doing nothing. I didn't have to go far and was able to watch as the woman quickly closed the distance between her and her prey. She launched herself at the man, catching him with her shoulder in the middle of his back and riding him to the pavement.
He hit hard, and the woman had cuffs in her hand an instant later, yanking the man's arms up hard and clanking the bracelets around his wrists. He started struggling, swearing at her and she grabbed the short chain linking the cuffs, pulling up sharp so that the man's face was pressed hard into the sidewalk and his shoulders were yanked painfully in their sockets.
I was close enough to hear her talking at this point.
"Shut the fuck up," she said and her voice was stone cold.
The man struggled again and she pulled a stun gun off her belt, pressed her knee down hard in the guy's lower back and shoved the taser right at his balls.
I winced. I couldn't help it. That was just mean.
"You like the show?"
I realized she was talking to me. "Yeah, actually. I'm wondering what he did to deserve that."
"He's FTA," the woman answered. She leaned down toward the skip. "You going to behave, or should I get out the baton?"
"I'm done," the guy groaned and she nodded, standing up. She bent and grabbed the back of the guy's shirt and hauled him to his feet, lean muscle flexing in her arms.
"Where's your car?" I asked and she slid a look at me. It was the first good look I'd gotten at her and I was enjoying the view.
The woman had eyes the green of a deep, calm river dappled in shade and they were rimmed in black kohl and long black lashes. She had a small nose slightly turned up at the end, high, wide cheekbones and a slightly pointed chin. Her lips were full and looked naturally pink. She had her hair pulled back tight, braided, and bound with a wide piece of leather that wrapped the tail from the base of her neck to its end. It was hard to tell how long it was, but it was a dark auburn color, red and gold highlights catching the sun. She stood about five-five and probably weighed a buck twenty-five. Her arms were toned and she was lightly tanned.
She was dressed in jeans tucked into knee high black leather boots with low, Vibram soles. A black v-neck t-shirt was tucked into her jeans and she had a shoulder holster on with a Glock snugged up to her ribs. I'd already noticed the Tom Brown blade at the small of her back hooked to her belt, along with a can of defense spray, a cell phone, her stun gun, a collapsible baton and a few small compartments, one of which I'd seen her pull her cuffs out of. The woman was strapped.
She tipped her chin back the way she'd come. "About four blocks east."
"Want a ride?"
She looked me up and down and I wasn't unaware of the way her eyes lingered on my torso before moving to my eyes. I was dressed in RangeMan black from top to bottom. The heat was making my shirt stick between my shoulder blades and I didn't even want to think about what parts of me were sticking to other parts in my too-warm black cargos. I had my usual armament strapped in place and my size thirteen combat boots laced up with my pants tucked into the tops.
No flak vest, but I still managed to look intimidating enough that most people pretended I wasn't around or stared.
"What are you?" she questioned, raising her brows. Not intimidated.
"I work for a private security company. That's my work truck that you jumped off of."
"Can we get this over with?" the skip grumbled and the woman did something behind the man's back that had his knees buckling. She didn't let him slide to the ground but he shut up.
"Sure, what the hell."
We walked back to the Explorer and I held the door for her to shove her skip into the back seat and then opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in, buckling her belt as I came around to the driver's side and got in next to her.
"Lester Santos," I introduced myself, holding out my hand to her after dropping my coffee into the cup holder.
A small smile touched her full lips. "Mallory," she returned, taking my hand. She was wearing fingerless, black leather gloves and her firm handshake was accompanied with a direct gaze.
"Mallory what?" I asked, maybe holding her hand a moment longer than necessary.
"Just Mallory," she answered and her little smile turned cold.
Brr. "Alright, Just Mallory. Let's get you to your car." I started the engine and u-turned to head east down Genesee.
"It's a forest green Pathfinder," she said, checking on her skip who was studiously staring at the floor boards, mouth clamped shut. "On the left." A pause. "There." She pointed and I turned around so I could park behind her SUV.
I got out and helped Mallory load the man into the Pathfinder, although it really didn't seem like she needed my assistance. She had a cage divider between the back and front seats of the vehicle and she shut the guy in.
"I can see that you've got questions," she stated and I raised a brow at her.
"Can you?"
"Absolutely. And I would too. You say you work for a private security company, I'll bet you guys do some bond work and I don't want to step on any toes. I'm new in town and I'm freelancing for a couple of different bond offices." She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a slim wallet, removing a business card and handing it to me.
"I've got to drop this guy at the PD, but if you'd like, you can call me and we could grab a bite. Then you can drill me." My eyes widened slightly of their own accord before I could slam the blank face into place at her choice of words. Something in her expression told me she'd used the words deliberately before she added, "For information. I'll tell you what I can."
I couldn't get a handle on her. Her word choice had been what I would have considered a blatant come-on in most circumstances, but she'd said it with zero inflection in her voice to indicate that's what it had been. Her expression was completely neutral now; whatever I thought I'd seen gone.
Glancing down at the card I saw that it had three lines of information.
Mallory
Bail Enforcement Agent
609.555.7267
"Thanks for the help, Lester Santos." One corner of her mouth kicked up slightly and she circled the Pathfinder to climb behind the wheel. The truck started and she eased onto the road and drove away.
I glanced down at the card again, flipping it over so I could see the back, but it was blank.
She was right. I was curious. It didn't hurt that she was smokin' hot. More than that, Ranger liked being informed of any new players in certain industries, both legal and illegal, that came to town. Bounty hunting was one of those industries.
Hal could continue filling in for me for the rest of the day. I'd been pulling some long hours for the past seven months, padding my bank account so I could buy a condo I'd been eyeing not far from RangeMan. Another two months of pulling double duty and I'd be able to buy it cash as well as pay for someone to step in and decorate it.
Mind made up, I flipped open my cell and dialed Hal.
"Talk," he commanded.
"I've got a situation. Can you finish my shift?"
"Affirmative." He was all business.
"I'll inform the boss." I disconnected and headed to Vinnie's. Maybe Connie knew something about Mallory.
#
"Yeah, I saw her. It was about three months ago. She came in and said she was looking for work, but Stephanie covers all the mid-range these days and this lady didn't look like low-level bonds to me." Connie flipped through her rolodex and came up with a card identical to the one Mallory had given him.
"She told me to call her if we had more work than our regular BEA's could handle and left. I haven't needed her and she hasn't stopped by since then."
My face was blank, but I was thinking. Three months. That's a while for a BEA to be in town, making apprehensions, without word reaching RangeMan.
"Check with Sebring at True Blue. Burrows hasn't been back, so maybe he hired Mallory."
I handed the card back to Connie and left the office. Standing on the sidewalk, I dialed Ranger.
"Yo."
"You heard anything about a new BEA in town? Female, goes by Mallory."
"There was some static about someone new in town, but it's been quiet and I've been busy. I heard something about a pimp getting shot that might have been related."
"I ran into her today. Or she almost ran into me, chasing a skip. Took him down without breaking a sweat. Hal's going to finish my shift on the surveillance gig and I'm going to take her up on a meeting. See if there's anything to worry about."
"She wouldn't happen to be attractive and packing heat, would she?" I could hear the smile in Ranger's voice. There was a lot more of that going around now that he and Stephanie were 'official'. It wasn't too hard to admit I was happy for them.
"Didn't notice," I lied.
Ranger's voice was still smiling when he answered. "Find out what you can. Don't get shot." He disconnected.
I checked my watch. It had been about forty-five minutes since Mallory gave me her card. I pulled it out of my pocket and dialed the number.
"Yo."
I froze for a second, wondering if I'd dialed the wrong number. 'Yo'?
"This is the part where you say something back, mouth breather." Her voice was even but bordered on irritated.
"It's Santos. Thought I'd take you up on that meet-and-eat offer."
"What was with the silence?" I heard a car start in the background and wondered if she was just leaving the TPD.
"Your greeting. It's common with some people I know but not many. Threw me off."
"Wouldn't want to do that." Her voice had warmed up a tad. There was a beat of silence before she continued. "I just finished with my skip. Where do you want to meet?"
"There's a deli at 63 Butler in the 'Burg. The Italian Peoples Bakery." I'd noticed she had GPS in her Pathfinder and figured she could probably use it.
I heard her shifting in her seat. "Got it. I'll meet you in..." there was a pause, like she was checking her watch. "Ten. Fifteen tops." She disconnected.
This was almost eerie. She could have been a RangeMan employee with her phone etiquette. I couldn't wait to tell Stephanie about her and the thought made me laugh.
If Mallory was just leaving the TPD it would probably take her more like forty minutes to get to the 'Burg, so I sat in my car and dialed Stephanie.
"Yo." Déjà vu.
"I want you to run a search for me, Beautiful."
"Lay it on me." A beat. "Don't be dirty."
I'm grinning as I tell her what I want her to look for. "New BEA, you might have heard of her. Goes by Mallory and so far I haven't gotten another name out of her. Connie said she came in about three months ago, but they didn't need the extra help." I give her a detailed physical description and the make and license plate number of her SUV.
"Sounds hot," Stephanie commented, and I could hear the sound of keys being punched as she took notes.
I decided to let that fly under the radar. "I'm going to meet her for lunch. I should get going if I'm going to beat her."
"Don't hurt her," Stephanie joked and hung up.
It took me fifteen minutes to get to the IPB and Mallory was leaning back against her Pathfinder, arms crossed over her chest, looking less than pleased. Fuck.
"I told you fifteen minutes tops. That was thirty minutes ago." I couldn't read her expression behind her mirrored aviators, but the set of her mouth and her tone were clear. I fucked up. "I'm busy. This meeting is a professional courtesy, not a social call. I would appreciate it if you were on time."
She's right, but I have no idea how the hell she made the forty minute drive in fifteen. The streets had been dead near the Guatepan, but it was nearing four in the afternoon and traffic was definitely making its presence known.
"My apologies. I miscalculated." I gestured toward the front door and I could feel the intensity of Mallory's glare before she moved away from the Pathfinder, walking beside me into the deli. I noticed that she scanned the room and moved away from the door when she entered.
"We just sit," I said when she hesitated and we headed for the back. There's was a corner booth, much too large for two people, but Mallory took that and I knew it was so we could both watch the door without being pressed against each other on a bench. A woman aware of her surroundings, obviously.
Mallory snaged a menu and scaned the sandwich choices. She decided on a roast beef sandwich on sourdough with extra horseradish and I got up to order for us both. I figured I could pay for the meal to make up for leaving her waiting in the parking lot.
"On me," I told her, placing the red plastic basket in front of her. There's a dill spear next to the sandwich that she ate first. Her glasses were hooked on the neckline of her shirt and she closed her eyes for a moment as she took the first bite.
Her eyes were considering as she turned her gaze to me. "I'll let you pay for being late." I liked that for some reason. "And I'll even drop the issue since I'm starving."
"Didn't grab lunch?" I asked, being conversational while we took the measure of each other.
"This is lunch," she answered and I wondered if it was lunch for her because she didn't eat at lunch time or, like me, she didn't start her work day until late. I figured it was a toss-up.
About half-way through our sandwiches, Mallory got up and ordered two bottles of water. I should have thought of that. She payed with a couple bills out of her wallet and sat next to me again, shoving a bottle my way.
After taking a long draw from hers and wiping the bottle's condensation across her forehead she turned to business while I tried not to stare at the little droplets of sweat that had collected just above her breasts.
Be late, ogle the lady, get shot. Sounded like a great plan for the rest of my day.
She was watching me intently but I couldn't read her expression. She had the blank face down so pat I wondered if she's ex-military. She was still wearing her gloves and I didn't know how she'd managed to eat that much of her sandwich without them being covered in mayonnaise. I was wiping my hands on a napkin at that moment.
"Tell me about RangeMan," she said and I was a little startled. I hadn't told her I worked for RangeMan. I told her I work for a security company.
"I've heard of RangeMan, Santos," she said and I lifted a brow. "I am in bond enforcement. I hear things. The all black get-up gave you away."
Oh, good, I thought. She's not a mind reader. No wonder the RangeMan ESP had Steph so on edge sometimes. It's a little disconcerting to have something similar turned on you by a stranger.
Since the cat's out of the bag. "You've heard of Carlos Manoso?" I asked, figuring Ranger is the easiest way to start this. His rep usually covers a lot of ground.
"Street name Ranger," she confirmed. "I've heard of him but we've never met, as I'm sure he's told you by now."
I'm pretty impressed with her. She's aware that I would have started running some sort of check on her and I'm not the only one that's been doing their homework. I wondered if she started researching RangeMan previous to our meeting.
"Ranger is co-owner and President of RangeMan. We do security for properties, individuals, and occasionally we take large contracts and fill in for towns that are experiencing problems with affording adequate police presence. We also do high-ticket bond enforcement and we often work with LE agencies on cases." That about summed it up.
"What do you want to know about me?" She just took all that in without so much as a blink, taking another bite of her sandwich.
"What's your name?" I asked. It's really eating me and I don't know why.
"My name is Mallory. I have no doubt that you've got someone looking me up and you'll know more soon."
"Last name or first name?" Stephanie would be eating this up right now. A Merry Man, eaten by curiosity caused by a mysterious woman. It was funny if I put myself out of the situation.
She sighed through her nose. "Last," she answered. "But it's all I go by. Ever." That sounded final.
"What brings you to Trenton?"
"I needed out of my environment. This is about as far as I could get without leaving the country and I have a thing for coast line."
"Any specific reason you wanted to get away?"
"Yes." She didn't elaborate and I gave it up. Know when to push.
"How long have you been in town?"
"Four months. I want to finish this sandwich. Let's shut up for a minute."
I laughed and let her dig in. Maybe she's not having a veritable orgasm over her food, but she was enjoying it, licking a dab of spicy mustard off the corner of her lip, eyes hooded. I felt like an idiot because I had a hard-on watching her you could declaw a cat with.
We packed away the rest of our meal and the silence was comfortable. Mallory obviously wasn't intimidated by the gear or my size. In fact, she seemed to be mostly ignoring me, which I'm not used to from women. They notice me for one reason or another.
Sandwiches demolished, Mallory took another swig of her water and leaned back into the booth, settling into the corner and crossing her arms over her chest. "Continue," she invited.
She's nothing if not direct, I think as I order my thoughts. "Where'd you originate from?" I could do a regional search for her if necessary based on her original location.
"Circumstances of my birth, or do you mean prior to ending up in Trenton?" There was humor in the slight tilt of her lips and her eyes were smiling.
"Listening to the circumstances of your birth might be interesting, but I'll settle for the previous to Trenton part," I answered. I couldn't tell if she was flirting with me. I felt like I was asking weird personal questions about one of the guys at work. But hot. And with tits.
Mallory tilted her head to one side and then to the other. "West coast," she answered finally. "I took my time getting here." That explained the non-regional accent. The west coast is about as unaccented as it gets.
"How long have you been a BEA?" She didn't look any older than twenty-two. Maybe twenty-three.
"Eight years."
I raised a brow. "You don't look old enough for that much experience," I pointed out.
"I'm much older than I look." A dark shadow crossed her green eyes like the specter of a bad memory, gone an instant later. I wanted to ask how old she as, but my momma taught me better than to ask a lady her age.
"Who are you working for in town? You said you're freelancing?"
"I started making rounds to the various offices when I got into town, but didn't take any work until after I got settled. I'm working for a few of the different offices. The skip you saw me take in was for True Blue."
"I heard you checked out Plum Bail Bonds."
"I heard you do work for them," she returned.
"We handle their high level skips. Anything over a hundred gees. You do mid-range?" Now I was fishing.
"I prefer to work with my partner so I'm taking it easy until he gets here. I haven't taken anything over twenty-thousand and I'm staying away from the violent ones. Chasing some douche bag down the street is one thing. Taking a bullet doesn't interest me."
"You have a partner?"
"Yes, and now that I'm settled, he'll be relocating."
"He just drops his life to come to you?"
"Of course," she answered without hesitation, her voice matter-of-fact.
"Sounds like a good partner."
"He's the only person I trust with my life."
I could understand this, and although I'd trust any of the guys and Stephanie with my life, Bobby had been my partner for the last six years and I trusted him first of all.
I was about to fire off another question when Mallory scooted out of the booth. I followed, watching her pull her shades out of her shirt and slip them back over her eyes, effectively blocking most the top half of her face. The aviators were big enough to completely cover her eyebrows.
She held out her hand and I shook it, aware that my hand almost completely enveloped hers. Her handshake is firm and she pulled away while I was tempted to hold on.
"Thanks for the sandwich. I'm sure we'll be running into each other. Call me when you come up with blanks."
Blanks? I'm about to ask her what she means, but she's already moving toward the door. By the time I followed her out to the parking lot she'd already hopped into her Pathfinder, pulling the door shut behind her.
I watched her pull out of the lot when my cell chirped.
"Talk."
"Les, Mallory's Pathfinder is registered to a bonds office in Portland, Oregon that only exists on paper. I called the number and got what sounded like a fax machine. I looked up the company, Mariner Bail Bonds, and got nothing more than an EID. There's some other property, but it's harder to access. I'll keep checking, but bonds offices like to keep their assets private." Stephanie sounded perplexed over the phone and I couldn't blame her.
I was beginning to get a whiff of what Mallory meant by 'blanks'. Still no name and no connections. Maybe I could hunt her down and lift her wallet. She would be required to keep a valid ID as well as her credentials on her at all times. Somehow, that seemed shady. If there's anything we understand at RangeMan, it's valuing our privacy and anonymity on the streets. Mallory didn't know me and was likely protecting herself.
"Thanks, Steph. Keep an ear to the ground for me."
"Wilco."
After Stephanie disconnected I pull the phone away from my ear and looked down at it. Too soon to call her already? I wavered. Yeah. Probably.
Now I had the whole damned day and not a clue what to do with myself. Great. Since I was already playing detective, I decided to check out the only other lead I had on Mallory.
It didn't take me long to get to True Blue Bail Bonds and a quick drive by told me that Mallory's Pathfinder wasn't around, so I climbed out and strolled through the front doors and made my presence known to the woman sitting behind the counter.
"May I help you?" she asked, not batting so much as a lash at my SWAT-style uniform and gun belt.
Turn on the charm. "Hi, there," I began, flashing her a grin that made little old ladies love me and young women's panties fall off. I was reaching though, and I knew it. The grin didn't do shit to Mallory as far as I could tell. Maybe I was beginning to lose my touch.
The lady at the counter was probably in her forties and she didn't react to the smile either. I wondered if I had sandwich crap in my teeth and wished I'd checked in the visor mirror in the truck before coming in. She had her eyebrows raised at me, waiting for me to get to business.
"I was wondering if you had any information about a new BEA that's been working for you. A young woman, goes by Mallory?" Might as well get to the point since my charm seemed to be on the fritz. And now I was feeling a little self-conscious about my mystery-status teeth.
Recognition crossed the woman's face at the name, but she still wasn't looking forthcoming.
"Yes," she answered warily, her eyes resting on the RangeMan logo on my shirt. "Has there been a problem?" She was probably wondering if Mallory pissed off Ranger.
"No problem," I immediately clarified. "I met her while she was apprehending an FTA earlier today and thought I'd get in touch with her, see if she'd be interested in a business proposition." That felt safe. Mallory obviously had skills and everyone knew Steph was working for RangeMan, so it wouldn't be a stretch that Ranger might be interested in hiring another pretty bounty hunter to make the rest of us muscle heads look good.
Lie must have worked, because Buckshot Betty behind the counter was looking less likely to pull the trigger on me. "Mallory has a very specific contract with Mr. Sebring: We're not allowed to discuss any of her personal information or share her contact information with anyone less than a law enforcement agent in the course of their duty."
What? "I don't understand." Not a fucking bit.
"Mallory had Mr. Sebring sign a contract prohibiting the sharing of her personal information."
"I have a hard time believing Mr. Sebring would consent to such a contract with a BEA with no prior history in Trenton."
"You'd have to bring that up with him. I can tell you that, when she was here a little over an hour ago, she said she'd be doing another take down. You might be able to catch her at the PD after she collects her body receipt."
Ah, so that's how she beat me to the deli. She wasn't at the TPD at all, she was at the bonds office.
"Has she caught her FTA already?" I wasn't interested in sitting in front of the police station without knowing if she'd get her man and show up.
"If she hasn't yet, she will. They never get away from Mallory."
#
YO: Don't worry, Mallory isn't a Ranger copy and you'll get to see a lighter side of her in the next chapter. Which, is mostly done now. Biggest problem: I haven't written in first person in a very, very long time. This is a writing exercise for me, but I'm struggling with tenses so these might come a little slower while I edit out the fuck ups. Should have chapter two up in a day or two. Hope you enjoy it ;)