Crimes Against Stephanie, The Complete Story

by DyanSwan

Stephanie storms out of her parents house after learning that Joe Morelli has been working undercover with Terry Gilman. Babe HEA. This story contains 20 chapters. COMPLETE.

Crimes Against Stephanie

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Disclosures and Acknowledgments:

I am borrowing JE's wonderful characters for fun, not profit.

Thank you to Maggie who is my wonderful content and copy editor.

In To the Nines, Stephanie learns that Joe was doing undercover work with Terry Gilman. That's where this story begins.

Chapter 1 is a retelling of Chapter 6 of To the Nines.

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Chapter 1

It was a quiet June evening in the Chambersburg neighborhood of Trenton, New Jersey. The sky was still light and the air was sultry with humidity. Hydrocarbon laced breezes wafted, stirring the leaves and insulting the sinuses.

In a quaint yellow duplex on Roosevelt Street, the Plum family was sandwiched around the dining room table waiting to begin dinner. Frank and Helen Plum flanked the table. Valerie, the Plum's older daughter, who had just said grace, was sitting at one side of the table with her daughters from her first marriage and her boyfriend, the attorney, Albert Kloughn, Grandma Mazur, Helen's mother, was sitting on the other side of the table, with Stephanie, the Plums' younger daughter, to her right and an empty seat to her left.

Helen had made sausage-and-cheese lasagna. Its heavenly aroma nearly cancelled the heady perfume of the petrochemicals. There was also an antipasto platter and fresh bread from Peoples, the local Italian bakery. Helen would have made a salad, but to the Plums, salad was table scenery. The family was ready to dig in when there was a rap on the front door.

Joseph Morelli, Trenton police officer, plainclothes division, and some time inamorato of Stephanie, opened the door and strolled in. "Is there room for me?" he asked, knowing that there was always enough food for a drop-in guest or twelve.

For years, Helen Plum had been wary of Joe. He was one of those Morelli boys. You've heard of them. Everybody's heard of them. They were known as reprobates and sex fiends. They were the types of boys who would never amount to anything, but who would mount a lot of women and leave them smiling. It was known as the Morelli Male Syndrome. And it was understood by everybody in the 'Burg, as Chambersburg was called, to be a genetic malady.

When Joe started dating Stephanie, who was in her thirties and still single, (we'll forget that she was married to Dickie Orr for all of fifteen minutes before Stephanie caught him boinking Joyce Barnhardt on their new dining room table) Helen saw him as her redemption. Joe was her only chance of getting Stephanie married somewhat respectably and off the streets as a bounty hunter and into a house as a home and baby maker.

Yes, he was a Morelli. But in spite of his bad blood and DNA, Joe had managed to grow up, stay sober and obtain gainful employment. Much to the delight of his own mother, he never hit her up for money and he kept his nose clean. Joe was still a sex fiend. But now he was Stephanie's sex fiend, or so they thought.

"Joseph, you're here," smiled Helen, "I set an extra place, just in case." She immediately served a slab of lasagna on his plate and then passed him the antipasto platter and the breadbasket.

At most dinner tables, in most neighborhoods in America, the conversation centers around the experiences the family had that day. Across the country, reports on the kids' baseball game or tales of rampant recipe stealing at the church bake sale were being shared while the roast was carved and the vegetables served.

It was no different at dinner tables in New Jersey. Family tales were being told. The stories, however, were not quite the same. At this Trenton dinner table, on this day, the talk was about Stephanie's latest bounty hunting adventure.

Grandma Mazur was loading her fork with lasagna when she said, "Give me the four-one-one about the shooting. I need to know what I'm talking about when I go to Stiva's for Mitchell Farber's viewing."

Stiva's was the premier funeral parlor in the 'Burg and the center of Grandma Mazur's social life. Some widows went to bars or on cruises to meet men; Grandma Mazur went to Stiva's.

Between bites, Stephanie said, "Not much to tell. Lula and I were having lunch at McDonald's and the guy at the table across from us was shot. No biggie. It was just one of those things. It happens."

"It happens? It was just one of those things?" Helen snapped. "Stephanie, having someone shot in front of you is not just one of those things."

"It is in that neighborhood."

"What neighborhood?"

Stephanie mumbled the name.

Helen sternly asked, "Why were you in that neighborhood? Joseph, why was Stephanie in that neighborhood?"

Busy forking a piece of lasagna, Joe said, "Not sure. When I got to the scene, she was there with Lula."

"You were at the shooting. Were you in the middle of it?" Albert asked.

"Not in the middle. Near it," said Stephanie

"How near?" asked Albert.

"About three feet," answered Joe.

"Weren't you freaked?" Albert asked Joe. "I mean being in the middle of a shooting?"

"I'm never in the middle of a shooting. I come in after the crime is committed to investigate."

"Huh?" asked Grandma Mazur. "Loretta Beeber told me that you were pert near killed in some big shoot out at Terry Gilman's house last week. Heard you had to jump out of Terry's second floor bedroom window."

Silence enveloped the room like smog on the interstate. Terry Gilman, nee Grizzoli, had been the prom queen. Tall, blonde and beautiful, she was the Grace Kelly of the 'Burg. She was also Joe's girlfriend through high school and beyond. The rumors that swirled around her whispered that she had ties to the mob. She did. That her ex-husband was gay. He was. And that she never stopped seeing Morelli. Hmmm.

Stephanie leaned forward in her chair and stared at Joe. He stared back and cracked his bemused grin.

"You jumped out of Terry Gilman's bedroom window?"

"Yeah. Don't worry. I'm okay. I didn't hurt myself."

"You jumped out of Terry Gilman's bedroom window?" Stephanie stressed.

"I told you."

"No, you did not. If you had said to me, 'Guess what I did? I jumped out of Terry Gilman's bedroom window,' I would have remembered that."

"I did tell you. That was the day that you wanted to go to Pino's for dinner and I said I couldn't because I had to work."

"You told me you had to go to work. Not that you had to go to Terry Gilman's. You did not tell me you went to Terry's. You did not tell me that there was a shooting and that you jumped out of her bedroom window."

"I heard Terry was nearly naked," said Grandma Mazur. "Loretta's sister lives across the street from Terry and she said that Terry was wearing a see-through nightie."

"A nightie? A see-through nightie?" Stephanie fumed.

"It wasn't a nightie," said Joe.

There was a hush and everyone at the table looked at Joe as if he just confessed to organizing the hit on Albert Anastasia in the barbershop of the Park Sheraton Hotel in nineteen fifty-seven.

"It was a camisole and a thong."

"Wow," said Albert, "And you could see right through it?"

Joe replied by grinning a bit too broadly.

Stephanie stood up and went to the kitchen where she relieved the double layer chocolate cake of a large wedge. She wrapped the slice in aluminum foil and announced, "I'm out of here," as she exited through the back door.

Chapter 2

Stephanie hiked through her parent's postage stamp back yard and the alley to get to her yellow Ford Escape. The car was such a bright shade of yellow that it was, as the Temptations sang, sunshine on a cloudy day. Given we're talking about New Jersey, smog central of the east coast, that is quite the statement.

She flopped into the Escape, fired up the engine and drove straight home . . . to Morelli's equally quaint duplex on Slater Street, just a few block from her parents'. Stephanie stayed at Joe's between off cycles in their relationship. They had been in an on cycle, so Morelli's place had been home for the past few months. Tonight's dinner conversation ended that.

Stephanie sat in front of Morelli's and thought, I'm going to escape in my Escape. Her wit was a little dimmer than usual. It wasn't her fault. She had just been blindsided by the visual of Terry Gilman in a sheer camisole and thong.

Stephanie mentally ciphered her open-to-buy. She had been a lingerie buyer a few years ago and she still thought like a shopkeeper. Open-to-buy was Stephanie's retail-ese for figuring out how much spending cash she had. Based on her rough calculations, she was barred from spending. So much for the escape in the Escape.

She looked over at the pathetically small foil package. She should have taken the whole cake. Yeesh!

Stephanie replayed the dinner conversation in her head a few more times. She opened the foil casing and began gnawing on its contents. The chocolate and sugar kicked up her blood sugar level. She began to feel calm and rational.

She wondered if she was being too much of a girl for hating that Joe was drooling at the thought of Terry in her skimpy skivvies. He just couldn't keep that damn grin off his face when Grandma mentioned the nightie. Terry Gilman looked great in real clothes, the type you can't see through. Stephanie was sure that Terry looked even better in sheer, frothy near-nothing clothes. An image popped into her brain of Terry as a porn star named Scanta Lee Clad. Where in the hell did that come from?

And what about Joe? Why was he working with Terry Gilman? Why was he in her bedroom? Why was she in a camisole and thong? A sheer camisole and thong? Why did he know the difference between a nightie and a camisole? Nothing about this made any sense. And did Joe really expect Stephanie to believe that he and Terry were working undercover? Under the covers was more like it.

Then she wondered if she was being a hypocrite. Yes, Stephanie did have an on-going flirtation with Ranger, her Cuban-American mentor and fellow bounty hunter. But, it wasn't like she was cavorting with Ranger while wearing transparent scanties. Okay. Okay! She did have a one-night fling with Ranger, but that was months and months ago during an off period with Morelli.

Any woman with a pulse would have a fling with Ranger, if he asked her. And he asked Stephanie, in his own way. Ranger. He was so Latino, so virile, so hot, so cool, so . . . . tall, tan, and tasty. She absently licked her lips. Ranger had that effect on her.

Stephanie decided that she wasn't being a hypocrite. It happened during an off period. It wasn't her fault.

Then she thought about Morelli again. That lout. This thing was starting to remind Stephanie of Dickie Orr and the dining room table. It had been a nice dining room table: mahogany, oval, with two additional leaves. It was nice, until it was permanently defiled by that skank, Joyce Barnhardt. She stuck her tongue out at Joe's house and drove off to her apartment.

Stephanie checked her mobile phone as she walked into the dingy utilitarian lobby of her generic dark red brick apartment building. There were two messages waiting for her, both from Lula, her bounty hunting buddy and co-witness to the shooting. Both messages asked, no begged, Stephanie to meet Lula and their other office buddy, Connie for drinks. Lula didn't want to be alone after witnessing the shooting. All that blood and gore gave her the heebee jeebees.

Lula had been a 'ho for many years before she went straight. Lula had seen the seamier side of life, but blood and guts disturbed her. Maybe it was because she had been violently raped and beaten by the boxer, Benito Ramirez.

Ramirez had been the biggest thing to hit Trenton since George Washington's little skirmish on Christmas day in seventeen seventy-six before he began making women his personal punching bags. About a year ago Ramirez got his. He's now a resident of the seventh level of hell.

Stephanie decided that a night of drinks with the girls was just the side journey to Denial Land that she needed. She could sip a cocktail or two and avoid thinking about the shooting, Morelli and Terry Gilman's lingerie. She hit the redial button on her mobile.

Lula answered on the third ring. "Stephanie."

"I got your messages. I'm in."

"Good. This whole shooting thing is about to give me hives. I went to Macy's this afternoon, thinking that a new pair of Via Spiga's would calm me, but it didn't. Now I'm thinking that I need to get good and drunk and I don't want to drink alone. Only pitiful alcoholics drink alone and we know I'm not pitiful or an alcoholic. So, I called you and Connie to get together."

"Good thinking."

"Connie's coming to get me in a few. I convinced her to drive. She didn't see the shooting so she won't need to drink as much as me and you. We'll pick you up in a half hour."

"Where're we going?"

"Pino's."

Stephanie froze. Pino's was her favorite. It had the best pizza in town. But it was also the local watering hole for most of Trenton's police department. If she walked into Pino's without Joe on one of his nights off, every cop in the place would figure they were fighting. Being the latest news on the cop rumor mill was not a scheduled stop on her trip to Denial Land. No, not going to Pino's, at least not tonight.

"Can we go someplace else?

"I thought you loved Pino's"

"I do, but not tonight."

"Did you and Officer Hottie have a fight?"

"You could say that."

"Was it because of the shooting?"

"No, it was a disagreement over lingerie."

"Lingerie? You two had a fight over lingerie?"

"Yes"

"Was it something like he likes thongs and you prefer string bikinis?"

"Something like that."

"You two had a fight over lingerie instead of the shooting?"

"It wasn't my fault."

"Okay, fine. How about Mike's Place?"

Mike's Place was a sports bar on Center Street that was frequented by business types. Stephanie hadn't been there in nearly a year. The one and only time she had gone to Mike's was to distract a lawyer named Ryan Perin, while Ranger and his team repossessed his Jaguar. The distraction was going as planned until there was a fistfight and gun play.

"Ur . . . uh . . . yeah, Mike's is fine. See you in thirty."

Chapter 3

Stephanie tugged her tee shirt off as she walked to her bedroom. She needed a shower before she met Connie and Lula. She had showered earlier to rid herself of the shooting, but now Joe Morelli needed to be exfoliated from her system. Her top caught on the ring that Joe had given her for Christmas.

As she yanked the ring off her finger, Stephanie remembered what Joe said when he gave it to her. It's a friendship ring. We tried the engagement thing and that didn't work. Damn right the engagement hadn't worked. How could she trust a marriage proposal that came with an erection?

She looked at the three sapphires set in entwined gold and platinum. Stephanie imagined hurling the ring in Morelli's face or smashing it with a hammer. She mentally reviewed the etiquette of the situation. When a woman breaks an engagement or friendship, she's obligated to return the ring. Ha! What if the woman was forced to break up with the man because he's a lying, cheating ass? What if the man gave the woman good cause to break up with him? What if the man was a Morelli? What if it wasn't the woman's fault? Then the woman was duty-bound to keep the ring in a safe place and take it to the pawnbroker when her rent was due.

Joe showed up as Stephanie was angling into Connie's Camry. He grabbed her elbow and gently pulled her away from the car. "Cupcake, we need to talk."

Stephanie mentally ground her teeth. When she liked Joe, she liked when he called her cupcake. When she hated him, the last thing she wanted him to call her was cupcake. Stephanie growled, "No, we don't."

"Yes, we do. Why are you here?"

"Because I didn't like the way you looked when you were talking about Terry Gilman's camisole."

"Damn. You are such a girl."

Stephanie's eyes narrowed to slits. "Huh!"

"Is it that time of the month?"

Stephanie's internal pressure cooker was ready to explode. She extended a stiff arm and said, "Go."

Joe looked at her hand. "Cupcake-"

"Go."

"Why aren't you wearing your-"

"Friendship ring?" Stephanie snapped. "Go. Now."

"Okay, Cupcake. I get it. Have fun with the girls. We'll talk later." Joe pulled her to him and placed a kiss on her lips, then walked to his SUV.

Stephanie wiped the kiss from her lips.

Connie and Lula, who had been watching the scene between Stephanie and Morelli from the Camry like it was the halftime show at the Super Bowl, were anxious to hear the details.

Lula said, "I cannot wait to hear about this one. I'm gonna ask her about it as soon as she gets in this car."

"We won't have to ask. She'll tell us as soon as she gets in the car." said Connie.

"You think?"

"I know. This is Stephanie we're talking about."

"True. No questions." Lula motioned that she was zipping her lips.

"No questions. Agreed?" asked Connie. She held her hand up to Lula.

"Agreed," said Lula as she high-fived Connie.

Stephanie pulled the door open and flopped into the car.

"What in the hell?" asked Lula.

"It's not my fault," said Stephanie.

"There's a story here," said Connie. "Do tell."

"Later."

Fifteen minutes later Connie, Lula and Stephanie were being ushered to a semi-circular booth not far from the bar. The place looked the same to Stephanie. She was sure no one recognized her. When she did the distraction job, she was tarted up with a short skirt, push-up bra, shirt unbuttoned to there and FMPs. Her curly hair had been smoothed and she wore more make up than her drag queen pal, Sallie Sweet. Today she was wearing jeans, a stretchy black top and two coats of mascara. By Trenton standards, she was naked.

After the waitress took their order, Stephanie surveyed the joint. She remembered drinking a large shot of Sapphire in one gulp and getting Bombayed. She could see Benito Ramirez decking Perin. She heard Perin shooting his gun. Stephanie cringed when she looked at the bar. It all happened right over there, by the bar.

She looked around again and saw Ranger and Tank, his second in command, at the bar. They saw her and nodded. She gave them a finger wave and a weak smile. Stephanie slouched into the booth as Ranger and Tank walked toward them.

After he said his hellos, Ranger introduced Tank to Connie and Lula. "Private party?"

"Are you buying?" asked Connie.

Stephanie sank deeper into the booth.

Ranger gave his version of a grin and cocked his head a millimeter to indicate that he would cover the tab.

Lula, took one look at Tank and couldn't wait to get her hands, ahem, get to know him, said, "Then you're invited."

The waitress served the round of vanilla-chili Sidecars that Connie, Lula and Stephanie ordered and noticed that Tank and Ranger had bookended the booth.

Connie held up the martini glass rimmed with sugar and stared at it. "This is a sexy looking cocktail." She drank a bit and said, "Yummy."

Stephanie and Lula took sips and agreed.

The waitress looked at Tank's nearly empty bottle of Corona and asked, "Want another, Hon?"

"Sure."

The waitress looked at Ranger. "Another bottle of water?"

Lula's eyes widened. "Water. Is that all your drinking? This here's a . . . it's not a party, but it is a get together. Order yourself something more interesting than water."

"Pellegrino."

The waitress nodded. "One Corona and one Pellegrino coming up."

"Pellegrino. Now that's what I'm talking about. That sounds tasty. What is Pellegrino?"

"You'll see," said Ranger.

"Okay. I'm gonna want a sip."

The corners of Ranger's mouth curved upwards, but just slightly.

The conversation had just started, when the waitress came back with the beer, the Pellegrino and a glass. She opened the bottles and poured a few bubbly drops of the Pellegrino into the glass.

Ranger ordered another round and the waitress left. He handed the glass to Lula. "Here."

Lula tested the Pellegrino and pursed her lips. "What is this? Some kind of fancy club soda?"

"It's water."

"Water? I told you to order something, you know festive, cause this here is a get together."

"It is. It's sparkling water."

Connie snickered and Lula rolled her eyes.

Stephanie stepped in and said, "Ranger's body is his temple. He doesn't pollute it with sugar or alcohol." She immediately felt warm, because she thought Ranger's body was a temple, too. A temple as solid and sculpted as the Parthenon or the New Jersey State House on West State Street. A temple she wouldn't mind visiting again. She gave herself a mental head slap and said to herself, Stephanie, Stephanie, Stephanie. You're still mad at that swine Morelli. Take a breather before you jump Ranger.

Stephanie and Lula talked about the shooting. Connie and Tank wanted all of the gory details and they obliged.

As Stephanie was draining her second Sidecar, Connie, said, "Where's your ring?"

"Home."

"That's right. You and Morelli had a big fight," said Lula.

"You and Morelli had a fight?" asked Ranger.

Stephanie shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah."

"You're supposed to be telling us about it," said Lula

"That's okay. Some other time." Stephanie said, trying to avoid the subject.

Lula said, "It must have been a doozie cause Officer Hottie was talking with his hands."

"Officer Hottie?" asked Tank.

"That's what Lula calls Morelli," said Connie. "Lula's right, you did promise to tell us about it." Connie pointed to Lula and herself. "These inquiring minds want to know." Then pointing to Ranger and Tank, she said, "And maybe those inquiring minds, too."

"Really?"

"Really," said Lula.

"Really," said Tank, "I want to know."

"Okay, but I need another drink."

"See, I told you it was a doozie," said Lula.

Ranger held up his hand and ordered another round. "Babe, I want to hear this."

Chapter 4

Stephanie took a swig of her Sidecar, her third Sidecar. She hemmed and hawed. She folded and refolded her beverage napkin a dozen times. She avoided eye contact with her drinking buddies.

"You have your drinky-poo. You've origamied your napkin to hell and back. Start talking." said Connie.

"Yeah," said Lula, "I want to hear this story while my ears are still sober."

Tank and Ranger said nothing. They just stared.

"Well," said Stephanie as she took another gulp. "Last week Joe jumped out of Terry Gilman's bedroom window."

They all waited a beat before Connie and Lula started to pummel Stephanie with questions.

"My, my," said Lula. "Uh huh. Undercover huh? Guess that explains why I saw Officer Hottie and Terry coming out of the Dew Drop Inn a few weeks ago."

"The Dew Drop Inn? The one on Route One?" asked Stephanie.

"Is there another Dew Drop Inn?"

"Not in Trenton," said Tank.

They looked at him for a moment not knowing what to make of it. Was Tank well traveled or was he well traveled?

Lula gave him a sly grin and squeezed his cast iron bicep. Silently she said, My, my. I wonder if he's that hard everywhere? She fanned herself and blotted some dew that dropped in her cleavage.

"The one that uses paper sheets?"

"Uh huh. They were looking kinda chummy."

"Kinda chummy? What in hell does that mean?"

"You know. Chummy."

"No, I don't know."

"They were walking real close together and they were laughing."

Stephanie seethed. She folded and refolded the napkin a few more times.

"I bet they were doing police business. Seein' how they're working undercover and everything."

Stephanie tossed her napkin to the center of the table. "Damn that Morelli," she muttered. "He's been a pain in my side from the day I played choo-choo with him in his father's garage."

Connie bombarded Stephanie with questions. "You played choo-choo with Morelli? In his father's garage? Didn't your mother tell you not to play with the Morelli boys?"

"Yeah. She told me to stay away from the Morelli boys."

"And?"

"I was curious," Stephanie offered weakly.

Connie shook her head in disbelief.

"What's choo-choo?" asked Lula. "We didn't play that game in my neighborhood."

Stephanie remembered the Morelli's dank, dark garage that smelled of old tires and motor oil, the little pink skirt she was wearing and the glint in Morelli's eyes. She explained that she was the tunnel and that Joe's forefinger was the train. She didn't get the chance to explain that she wanted to be the train.

"We had a name for that game in my neighborhood and it wasn't choo-choo," interrupted Lula. "Back when I was a ho-" Damn. She let that slip. Oh well. Lula cleared her throat and forged ahead, "I'd charge fifty dollars for that type of play."

"Fifty dollars?" asked Tank. "I thought the going rate was seventy-five." Maybe Tank was well traveled.

Lula looked at Tank and batted her heavily mascaraed lashes. "Might be with inflation and all. I've been out of the game for a few years."

Ranger kicked Tank under the table.

"That's what I hear. You know, word on the street." Tank said as he rubbed his shin.

"Hmm. Guess your parents never found out-"

"My Mom found out," said Stephanie. She told them how their neighbor, Mrs. Herrell, ratted her out. She also explained that her mom never told her father for fear her dad would beat Joe to a pulp, then Mr. Morelli would come after her dad, blah, blah, blah.

"Babe, if Morelli played train with one of my sisters and my mom found out, he'd be dead."

"Same here," said Tank.

"My mother wouldn't have killed him, she'd have maimed him so that he'd be in misery for life," said Connie.

"We only played train once." Yeesh! Stephanie thought, why are they acting like it was a big deal. Everybody played choo-choo, didn't they? "I didn't talk to him again until I was working at the Tasty Pastry."

Whiffs of fresh cookies, pies and doughnuts filled the nostrils of Stephanie's memory. Some people liked to use scented candles and incense as mood enhancers. For Stephanie, the Tasty Pastry was her aromatherapy of choice. She needed some happy, so she lingered in her mental bakery for a few more seconds.

"When did you work at the Tasty Pastry? And why don't we get former employee discounts?" asked Lula.

"All through high school," said Stephanie. "I was able to work fifteen hours a week and still graduate in the top ninety percent of my class."

"Impressive," said Connie. "So you see Morelli after what, like ten years, when you're working at the Tasty Pastry, and . . ."

"And?" asked Stephanie.

"You brought it up, I figure there has to be an 'and'."

"Yeah," Stephanie said meekly. "There is. But I need another drink."

"Babe, sure about that? You're not a drinker."

"I am tonight."

Ranger motioned for the waitress and ordered another round.

By the time Stephanie downed the last drops of her fourth drink, she had told them about losing her virginity to Morelli behind the éclair case, breaking his leg with her dad's Buick and being handcuffed to the shower curtain rod.

Connie played mental connect the dots and said, "You're that Stephanie! The 'Stephanie is sweet, good to eat' Stephanie!"

Stephanie groaned and nodded while Connie told Ranger, Tank and Lula about the graffiti on the stadium wall and in the men's room at Mario's Sub Shop.

"Morelli wrote that about you?" asked Lula.

The room was swaying and it was making Stephanie dizzy. She stared at the table.

"And he's not a dead man?" asked Tank.

"I didn't know that Joe wrote the graffiti until a few years ago. He apologized."

Lula tsked and said, "I am surprised that Morelli hasn't been arrested, tried and executed for crimes against Stephanie."

"You got that right," said Connie.

Stephanie continued to look at the table. The room was still moving about. The table looked nice and comfy. Maybe if she put her head on it for a while and closed her eyes, the room would stop turning.

Stephanie looked at her glass. It was empty. She heard the others dissecting her history with Joe. They wouldn't notice if she put her head on the table for a few seconds. They were too busy talking.

Ranger tucked a curly strand behind Stephanie's ear and patted her cheek. "Babe. Time to go."

Stephanie slowly opened her eyes and looked up at two Rangers. She didn't know he had a twin. No, there couldn't be two Rangers. Stephanie focused and saw one hot hunk before her. "Wha- Did I miss last call? I wanted another drinky."

"You missed last call. I'm going to drive you home."

"No need. Connie drove."

"Tank drove Connie and Lula home."

"Why? Why did Connie leave me? Is it because of-"

"She was too drunk to drive."

"Connie never could hold her liquor," Stephanie sloshed.

Neither can you, Ranger thought. He gathered Stephanie from the booth and then poured her into his Porsche Turbo. As he started the car, he remembered the last time Stephanie was at Mike's. She got drunk and was very flirty, then she passed out.

"Ranger-poo, where's your earring?" Stephanie pointed at Ranger's ear lobe. "You used to wear a stud right there."

"I don't work the streets anymore, so I don't wear it."

"Too bad."

Ranger put the car in gear and started driving. Stephanie curled up in her seat and turned toward him. He thought she looked adorable. He also knew that she would be asleep before he got to her apartment.

"I liked when you wore the earring. Cause you were a stud with a stud." Stephanie sighed.

"Babe."

Ranger heard shallow breathing and knew that she passed out.

Stephanie weaved about when she and Ranger walked to the door of her apartment. She rummaged through her purse for her keys. By the time she found them, Ranger had picked the lock and checked the apartment.

"Here they are!" Stephanie gave herself a mental head slap that made her wobble. Of course she didn't need the keys. She was with Batman, as she called Ranger, and he could unlock anything, anything. She staggered into her apartment and tripped over her feet.

Ranger caught her before she fell.

"Oopsy. Ranger-roo to the rescue. Oopsy, I said Ranger-roo. I meant Ranger-poo." Stephanie immediately had a vision of Ranger in his underoos, his Batman underoos, and started to giggle.

Ranger walked her to her bedroom and sat her on the bed. He began unlacing her Doc Martens.

"Ranger-roo, I mean Ranger-poo, when you were a little boy, did you have underoos?" Stephanie asked though waves of giggles.

"Babe."

"Did you have Batman underoos?"

Ranger flipped her over his shoulder, put her in the shower and turned on the taps.

"Ow! Damn you, Ranger!"

"It's good for you."

Stephanie tried to get out of the shower, but Ranger barred her.

"Stay there."

A few minutes later Ranger reappeared with towels and a fresh pair of pajamas.

Stephanie tottered out of the bathroom, rubbing her forehead with her thumb and fingers. She dropped onto the bed.

Ranger handed Stephanie a large glass of water and made her drink it. He tucked her in and kissed her aching brow.

"Ranger. Is Joe really that bad?"

"Yes." Ranger thought Morelli might be a smart cop, but he's a fool as a man.

"You're just saying that because you like me."

"Babe."

Stephanie kissed Ranger's cheek. She said, "Thank you Ranger-poo," and passed out.

Chapter 5

"We had a name for that game in my neighborhood and it wasn't choo-choo."

"My mother wouldn't have killed him; she'd have maimed him so that he'd be in misery for life."

Stephanie tossed and turned in her sleep.

"Babe, if Morelli played train with one of my sisters and my mom found out, he'd be dead."

"They were looking kinda chummy."

Stephanie put a pillow over her head, but she could still hear the voices.

"You're that Stephanie! The 'Stephanie is sweet, good to eat' Stephanie!"

"I am surprised that Morelli hasn't been arrested, tried and executed for crimes against Stephanie."

Stephanie jumped out of her bed and started to run down a long corridor, a very long corridor. The hallway was harshly lit by fluorescent tubes. The concrete brick walls seemed to be dipped in stark white paint. The linoleum floor shined like a new pair of patent leather shoes. Stephanie squinted to reduce the glare of the corridor's glow. She ran to the double doors at the end of the hall and pushed them opened.

Stephanie stood at the back of one of the courtrooms in the Mercer County Courthouse. The room was bustling with noise and activity. The furor died down for a few beats when Stephanie entered the room. Was she still in her jammies? She looked at herself and found that she was wearing a navy blue coatdress and navy kid pumps. She thought, Whew! Dodged that one.

She looked around. The room was filled to capacity. There were many familiar faces about. Alexander Ramos and Harry the Hammer were sitting in the first row, behind the bar. They motioned for Stephanie to come and sit with them.

She walked down the aisle. It felt like a wedding. Morelli's family and friends were on the left side of the aisle and her crowd along with Ramos and Harry the Hammer were sitting on the right side. She inched from the aisle and found a seat between the two thugs. Her immediate family was sitting in the second row, so she turned around to give them finger waves.

Alexander Ramos tapped Stephanie on the shoulder. "The DA wants to speak with you."

Stephanie turned around to see Connie Rosolli, in a charcoal grey suit that was altered to mold her many curves. Her hair was gracefully pulled back into a chignon. She looked tasteful, professional, bordering on refined. If it wasn't for the red lips and nails, and distinctive voice, Stephanie would have guessed that the woman before her was one of Connie's cousins, a distant cousin.

Connie leaned over the divider that separated the gallery from the legal theater and whispered, "I'm so glad you're here. I was concerned that you might not appear. There's been a change of plans. Instead of calling you first, I've decided to call you last. I figure I would end my case with my strongest witness. Okay?"

End her case with her strongest witness? Stephanie mentally slapped herself on the cheek to wake herself up, but nothing changed around her. She was a witness? To what? "Okay. You know best."

Stunned, Stephanie took some cleansing breaths to get back to center. She looked around the room again. Was that Morelli sitting at the table for the defense? She looked around some more. Was that the aroma of freshly baked cookies mixed with a little bit of Christmas?

Stephanie eyes followed her nose and saw Diesel walking from the bench to the defense table. He sat in the chair next to Joe. He leaned over and huddled with Morelli. Diesel flipped through the pages of a yellow legal tablet and pointed to item after item. Joe nodded or shook his head.

The Bailiff called, "All stand," and announced the arrival of the judges.

oOoOoOo

Lula stood in front of the courthouse in a muted spandex outfit that was only one size too small instead of her usual two to three sizes too small. A young woman was fussing with her hair and make-up. A man was holding a light meter to her face and conferring with a camera man. A sound guy wired and miked her.

Lula cleared her throat and did a sound check. "I'm a brick house, I'm might-tee, might-tee. Got that Manuel? Are we good to go?"

The crew nodded and Lula took her place.

"This is Lula for Court TV, your eyewitness to justice. I'm standing in front of the Mercer County Courthouse in Trenton, New Jersey, where what promises to be a sensational trial, The State of New Jersey v. Joseph A. Morelli, begins today. As you may know from my earlier reports that Joseph Morelli, a Trenton plainclothes detective, was arrested a few months ago for a boatload of charges, mainly crimes against women in general and, in particular, against Stephanie Plum, his one time girlfriend. This case has become a rallying cry for women everywhere who have been mistreated by good looking, smooth operating Lotharios like the accused."

The camera cut to a crowd of women chanting, 'Justice for Stephanie! Justice for Stephanie! Justice for Stephanie!' and carrying placards that read Morelli's Scum!, Never trust a Morelli! and Did he do IT to you 2?. The camera cut back to Lula.

"As you will recall, Joseph Morelli was arrested at his home after the police investigated allegations of his crimes and found enough evidence to warrant the arrest."

Tapes from the film archive of Morelli's arrest were rebroadcast. Joe was walking his dog, Bob, when his fellow detectives wrestled him to the ground to cuff him. When he was read the list of charges and Mirandized, Morelli was heard to say, "What? Are you crazy? That was years ago. Hasn't the statue of limitations run out? Hell, there probably weren't any statutes of limitations." His former co-workers shook their heads in disgust as they pushed him into the blue and white.

"Detective Morelli's arrest sent shockwaves through Trenton's police community and the neighborhood of Chambersburg that he has called home since birth. Interviews revealed that Joseph Morelli was a man of a thousand faces. Colleagues described him as a smart, tough, but fair cop. Their go to guy on difficult cases. His Mother described her youngest child as an angel, a gift from God. His grandmother said he was the only man in the family worth his salt. And women from Chambersburg, throughout Trenton and the whole State of New Jersey said . . . well, what they said he was and did is the subject of this trial. I'll be reporting the news on this trial as it happens. I'm Lula for Court TV and I'm your eyewitness to justice."

Tank, the segment producer and Lula's latest love, called, "Cut."

The camera stopped and the mike was killed. Lula smiled.

"Baby, tha-"

Lula glared at Tank. Baby? Had he lost his mind? No one called her baby. She was a big, beautiful, black woman. Just because he was her sexual fantasy incarnate did not give him permission to call her baby. She was nobody's baby, not even her Mama's . . . anymore.

"Er, I meant, Sweetness, that was a damn good report. This trial is going to make you a superstar reporter." Tank walked up to Lula. He was grinning, winking and making nice. She turned her face and permitted him to plant a kiss on her cheek.

oOoOoOo

Three judges entered the court. It was unusual to have a panel of judges, but this was an unusual case. Judge Lucille Plum entered the court followed by fellow judges and Jersey native sons, Frankie Valli and Frank Sinatra. Every woman needs good back up . . . singers.

Stephanie's jaw dropped when she saw Sinatra. Wasn't he dead? Maybe? Maybe not? If Connie was the District Attorney and Diesel was Morelli's defense attorney, anything was possible.

Harry the Hammer noticed Stephanie staring. He nudged her side and said, "Isn't my baby girl beautiful. Smart and beautiful. Did you notice the robe? I had Mr. Chen, my tailor, whip it up for her. He did a good job."

Stephanie had to agree, the robe looked good. When did Lucille go to law school? When did she become a judge? Did her father buy the election to get her the job? Smart move. Most gangsters got judges in their hip pockets through bribery and extortion, but Harry grew his own. Very smart move.

Stephanie nodded and looked at Harry's suit. She couldn't remember the last time she saw a dark gray suit with French blue pinstripes.

"He made this suit. He makes most of my clothes." Harry unbuttoned his jacket.

Stephanie held her breath. Was he going to show her that he was carrying concealed?

"Mr. Chen has real class. See how he lined my jacket with the same fabric that he used to make my tie and pocket square." The workmanship was excellent Hong Kong tailoring. The fabric, a loud and busy paisley, was pure Jersey.

Lucille struck her gavel and called the court to order.

Harry looked at his daughter the same way that Stephanie looked at a Boston cream doughnut, with pure love. "Shhh," he said to everyone around him. "My daughter, the judge, is ready to preside."

Lucille motioned for the defendant to stand. Morelli and Diesel stood as the charges were read. They looked like a pair of salt and pepper shakers. Both were the same height and had similar builds, but that's where the similarities ended. Morelli was the picture of his Southern Italian heritage with olive skin, dark eyes and a toss of dark brown curls. Diesel was a surfer dude type with sandy blond hair, honey brown eyes and a perpetual tan.

Judge Plum read the extensive list of charges, which included playing premeditated choo-choo with innocent young girls, hit and run deflowering, and reckless abandonment of women.

The Defendant smiled when some of the charges were read. The smile said, yeah, I did that. I'm a bad boy, but I'm so irresistible that you'll dismiss the charges.

Alexander Ramos, looked at Stephanie with sympathetic eyes and asked, "He did those things to you?"

Stephanie sighed. She straightened her legs and looked at her shoes.

"Rat bastard."

Harry the Hammer nodded in agreement. He leaned over to Stephanie and whispered, "You want I should make him disappear?"

Lucille asked, "Mr. Morelli, do you understand the charges?"

"Yes, your honor."

"How do you plead?"

"Not guilty."

Stephanie sighed again and rolled her eyes. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Babe. Are you sure you don't want Harry to make him disappear?

Chapter 6

Lula stood in front of the main entrance of the Mercer County Courthouse and shifted her weight from one high-heeled foot to the other. Some on-air talent's outfits looked like they suffered from multiple personality disorder, casual on the bottom and business proper on top. Not Ms. Lula, she was dressed from top to toe in one of her best on-air, business-fabulous outfits, should they need to do a full body shot. She was never the type that went for a pair of flats and Levi five-o-fives. Flats? When there was a whole world of stilettos just waiting to be worn? Jeans? When there were all types of fabulous outfits to coordinate? Please. Lula was a photo op waiting to happen at all times. Her fans deserved that much from her.

It was a very warm late September day, what they used to call Indian summer in less politically correct times. Lula was glowing in the midday heat. The make-up girl ran up and blotted out the glare.

The make-up girl backed out of frame as Tank counted, "Three, two, one, we're on-air."

"Good afternoon this is Lula, from Court TV, your eyewitness to justice." Lula put a well-manicured finger under her eye as she recited her introduction. That was her new signature gesture for her introduction. She had spent days rehearsing and timing the gesture with the introduction. Now that the gesture was as choreographed as the Pips' back up moves, she went live with it

Tank scrubbed his hand over his face when Lula placed a finger under her eye. They hadn't discussed this tacky little flourish. He wondered if Lula really expected to be taken seriously as a reporter when she did these cutesy moves. They would talk about this after the segment was done.

"The opening session of the Morelli trial has been eventful. The judges read the list of crimes that the defendant was accused of doing. The list included playing choo-choo with underage girls, irresponsible deflowering of virgins and reckless abandonment of women. Mr. Morelli appeared to have a callous disregard as to the severity of the charges levied against him. In fact, I believe that I saw him smirking when some of the charges were read, as if it was all too amusing. Let me just tell you that if any man, including my current hunk of burning love, treated me the way that Mr. Morelli is accused of treating his women, he wouldn't be wearing a smirk, he'd be wearing a black eye."

Tank made a slashing motion in front of his throat and mouthed, "Stop editorializing."

Lula paused a half a beat and continued, "The prosecution's opening statement basically promised to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mr. Morelli was guilty of the whole laundry list of accusations and that he was scum. The defense, in their opening statement, refuted the prosecution's position that the defendant was guilty and stated that he was not scum.

"The defendant's victims will be on the stand this afternoon as witnesses for the prosecution. The list includes Sister Mary Immaculata of the Holy Mother of God Convent and one time girlfriend of the defendant, Stephanie Plum.

"I will be back later to report on this afternoon's session. Until then, I am your eyewitness to justice; this is Lula for Court TV." Lula held her finger under her eye until Tank called 'cut'.

oOoOoO

The prosecution called witness after witness who attested that the defendant, one Joseph Anthony Morelli, did in fact, play train with them in his father's garage, relieved them of their virginity, promised to call and didn't, and left them dressed up with no place to go after cancelling a date at the last moment. Each witness told her personal tale of woe and shame. Many said that they only found the strength to rebound from their years of private hell with the love of her husband, boyfriend, puppy . . .

After laying her groundwork, District Attorney Rosolli called Sister Mary Immaculata to the stand. The crowd hushed as the sister, a diminutive woman with large brown eyes and a humble bearing, walked to the witness box clutching her rosary.

"Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?

"No, I do not swear, but as God is my witness, I will tell the truth."

Alexander Ramos leaned forward and said to Harry, "He's done stuff to a nun?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing's sacred anymore. Morelli's scum."

Connie approached the bench. "Please tell the court your name and profession."

"My name is Sister Mary Immaculata. I'm a sister in the community of the Holy Mother of God whose motherhouse is located in Hoboken, New Jersey.

"Were you always known as Sister Mary Immaculata?"

"No, before I took my vows, I was known as Sherrilyn Rose Genovese."

"Do you know the defendant?"

Diesel raised his hand and said, "Objection. Leading the witness."

"Your honors, I was not leading the witness. Where would I lead her? I was merely establishing that the witness knows the defendant."

"Overruled," chorused the judges.

Judge Plum nodded to Sister Immaculata to answer the question. She looked at Morelli and fear and panic covered her face. She nodded.

"Sister, can you identify the defendant by name?"

Sister Immaculata tightened her grip on her rosary and whispered, "He's Joseph Anthony Morelli."

"Your honors, for the sake of brevity, may we ask that the District Attorney not ask all of the establishing questions of this witness? I'm sure that she will establish that the witness knew the defendant from their school days." Diesel could see the handwriting on the proverbial wall and wanted to keep this type of testimony to a minimum.

Judge Plum peered over the bench. "District Attorney Rosolli, are you able to dispense with the establishing questions?"

"Your honors, may counsel approach?"

Lucille nodded and Connie and Diesel approached the bench. She flipped on the white noise machine so that they could confer in private.

"Your honors, by asking these questions, I am establishing the defendant's long term history of abuse of innocent young-"

"Your honors, the DA is looking to prolong this trial by attempting to paint my client as-

"Your honors, I'm trying to establish a pattern."

"Attorney Diesel, your request has been denied. Ms. Rosolli, proceed." chimed Judge Valli.

Sister Immaculata answered each of the DA's questions truthfully and in detail. It was obvious that recounting Joseph Morelli's seduction of her sixteen-year-old self on a rainy Tuesday, after school, in the high school library, behind the stacks was devastating for her.

In his cross-examination, Diesel asked. "Is it true, Sister Immaculata, that you were known as Sherry Baby?"

She barely whispered, "Yes."

"And when did you become Sherry Baby?"

Sister Immaculate turned her head from the jury. "In high school."

"So you were known through high school as Sherry Baby?"

"Your honors, Counsel is badgering the witness."

"Sustained. Defense will refrain from badgering the witness."

"Sister Immaculata, why were you known as Sherry Baby to all of your classmates?"

"Not to all. Just to Joseph Morelli and his . . . his friends. He started calling me that name after the incident. He'd sing it to me."

"Sing it to you?" asked the Defense with great disbelief.

"Yes."

"How?"

"How?"

"Yes, Sister Immaculata," Diesel said stretching out her name. "How did he sing it to you? Show the court what you mean. Sing it for us."

Sister Immaculata's cheeks flushed and she looked at the judges with dread in her eyes. "Mus-, Must I? I only sing to praise God."

Judge Valli said, "Perhaps I can help. Did it go like this? 'Sher-er-er-er-ree Ba-ay-bee'."

"Yes, like that, but he added some lyrics."

"Which ones Sister?"

Judge Valli turned on the white noise and Sister Immaculata explained.

"So, Sister, to continue to assist, did the Defendant sing 'Sher-er-er-er-ree Ba-ay-bee, can you come out tonight?'"

"Yes, that was it. Thank you again, your honor. He sang it every time he saw me. Then his friends would make catcalls."

"Surely the Defendant and his friends did this as a friendly gest-, I mean in jest."

"It was embarrassing and demeaning. It made me feel that everyone knew about the incident."

"Surely not everyone."

"It felt that way."

"Did the Defendant ask you out again? He paid attention to you. He appeared to like you."

"Like me? No, I don't think that he did. He never asked me out. He just used me."

"Used you?"

"He had his way with me and then he tortured me with that song."

"Tell me, Sister Immaculata, why did you become a nun? Was it out of faith? Or was it to atone for your sins and indiscretions in high school? Do not object, Ms. Rosolli, I know that you're going to say that I'm badgering the witness."

"How do you know that?"

"I know it the same way that I know that you're wearing a black lace push up bra under your blouse. Very nice, by the way. Perhaps we can have an after session discussion about the case?" Diesel asked as he winked at Connie.

Judge Sinatra rang out, "Counsel, for heavens to jurisprudence! Stop before I find you more contemptible than you are." To the witness, he cooed, "Sister, please answer the question."

"I chose to devote my life to the church, mostly out of my love for God, but also out of shame and to atone for my sins. I give credit to Shakespeare for helping me to make my decision to become a nun."

"Shakespeare?" Diesel asked. "How so?"

"In my senior year, we studied Hamlet in English class. When Hamlet told Ophelia to 'Get thee to a nunnery', I knew that God was speaking to me."

Ramos said, "What a beautiful story. So touching." He patted his chest. "It gets you right here."

Harry agreed. "I know. I know. It restores your faith in the Man upstairs."

They both made the Sign of the Cross. Their motions were mirror images. Harry being Catholic made his cross as all Catholics did, ending it on the right side of his chest. Ramos, who was Eastern Orthodox, ended his cross over his heart, as all Orthodox Christians do.

"Your honors, I have no further questions." Diesel turned and wearily returned to the defense table. A nun as a witness. He wondered what he did to deserve this case. Then he remembered. Didn't every man have a Morelli moment or two in his past?

As the sister walked out of the courtroom, Harry pointed to the ceiling as he said to Alex, "That defense guy's gonna need to do at least ten rosaries, a couple of acts of contrition and a few Stations of the Cross to make nice to God for what he done to Sister Immaculata."

Sister Immaculata overheard Harry as she was passing by and said, "Amen to that."

Chapter 7

Stephanie's eyes fluttered. She was sure that she was having the strangest dream. She dreamt that Joe was on trial for crimes against women and that Connie was the district attorney and Lucille, her cousin Vinnie's wife, was one of the judges.

She looked across the room and saw her navy blue suit hanging on the paneled door to the dressing room. Wait. She didn't have a dressing room. Stephanie eyeballed the room. This wasn't her bedroom.

Stephanie gave herself a mental head slap and got a sense of her surroundings. She realized that she was sleeping in a king sized bed with high thread count sheets and that a well-toned mocha latte arm was draped over her. Was she in bed with Ranger? She was. She felt a bulge pressing into her back. Stephanie snuggled into the warm body behind her and it snuggled back. Maybe she could have another helping of Ranger. One just wasn't enough. Hell, a thousand wouldn't be enough.

The alarm went off and Ranger reached over Stephanie to turn it off.

"What time is it?"

"Six."

Stephanie groaned. She had never met a morning that she liked.

"I thought that you'd like to go running with me before we go to court."

"Court?" So it wasn't a dream.

"Yes. Remember? You're on the witness stand this morning."

Stephanie groaned again. That explained the navy suit. "I don't want to go running. You run. I'll stay here and keep the bed warm."

Ranger nuzzled Stephanie's neck and nibbled her earlobe. "Babe. If you stay here, you'll go back to sleep."

"Maybe."

Ranger gently nudged her.

"Probably."

"I think you should workout with me this morning."

Stephanie turned and snuggled into Ranger's arms. "Maybe," she said as she fondled him.

"Babe. You're distracting me."

She felt his package harden. "Hmmm, what was your first clue?" Stephanie said as she licked Ranger's neck from its base to his jaw line. Maybe, there was another type of workout they could do together?

Ranger kissed her lips and then continued to kiss her everywhere. Ranger liked kissing Stephanie. And Stephanie liked his kisses.

Ranger, who was a skilled practitioner of the bedroom arts, was not one to be rushed and Stephanie was not one to hurry him. Why would she?

It came as quite a surprise to them when they noticed that it was seven thirty. They rushed and just made it to the courthouse by eight thirty so that Connie could review her statements before Stephanie testified in today's session.

oOoOoOo

Lula waved to the crowd of demonstrators standing behind the police blockade across the street from the courthouse. They were giving her the eye, actually they had their fingers under their eyes, but you get the point, and they were chanting, "Lula! Lula! Our Eyewitness to Just-tice, Lula! Lula!"

Lula motioned to the crowd and called out to Tank. "They get it. They get my eye gesture. They love me. I'm gonna be a superstar!"

Tank grimaced. "Yeah, Sweetness, they love you. You are a superstar."

"Tankie, you are sooo right!"

"Right. Now back to work."

Lula smoothed her outfit and waited for her cue.

"On three. One, two, three."

"This is Lula, your eyewitness to justice." When she put her finger under her eye, so did the crowd across the street.

Tank had the cameraman cut to the crowd to catch them signing back to Lula. This is the way you make a superstar and graduate from the local beat to doing national coverage.

"This morning in the 'Adam versus Eves' trial, as I'm calling it, Stephanie Plum, the now former girlfriend of the jerk, I mean scumbag-"

Tank held up a placard that read STOP EDITORIALIZING.

Lula continued. "I mean the defendant, Joseph Morelli, is scheduled to testify as the last witness for the prosecution. The defense is expected to begin presenting their case, as if they actually have a case, this afternoon."

Tank and the crew shook their heads. The crowd cheered in agreement.

Lula then quickly recapped day one and told her viewers that after the commercial break, she would be doing a very special interview and that an important announcement would be made.

The cameras stopped. Lula, Tank and the crew, set up the next shot and the cameras started to roll again.

"This is Lula of Court TV, your eyewitness to justice, and I'm standing in front of the Mercer County Courthouse with the star witness of yesterday's session of the Joseph Morelli trial, Sister Mary Immaculata of the Holy Mother of God Convent of Hoboken."

The camera cut to Sister Immaculata.

"Sister I, just between us . . . and my viewers, what it was like to confront Joseph Morelli so many years after he . . . well let's just put it out there, took ad-"

"Advantage of my youth and innocence?"

"Yeah, right Sister I, something like that."

"It was harrowing. When I was giving my testimony, I relived my shame all over again."

"Can I have an 'Amen' to that?" Lula leaned her mike to the crowd.

The crowd hollered, "Amen."

"How did you feel when the defense asked you about that scu-, I mean, Joe's nickname for you, Sherry Baby?"

Sister Immaculata closed her eyes tightly and pursed her lips. "It was humiliating. "

"I hear you." Lula asked the crowd, "Do we hear her?"

The crowd said, "We do."

Lula said, "I used to love that song. Especially the part that went, She-er-er-ree Bay-a-by."

Sister Immaculata clutched the large crucifix that she wore around her neck, cringing at the memory.

Tank threw up his hands and walked away from his camera crew. Not smooth, Lula.

"Sorry Sister I." Lula choked up. "I'll never be able to hear that song without thinking of you on that witness stand."

The crowd went, "Ah."

"Sister I, please continue."

With an obvious effort, Sister Immaculata continued, "When I heard the testimony of the other victims of Joseph Morelli, I was touched by their stories and their pain."

"Uh huh."

"I spent the night in prayer and asked God for guidance. During my prayers, I realized that Joseph Morelli was a serial seducer of innocent young women. How many young women had he led astray with his good looks and easy charms? We heard the stories of a few of his victims, but how many more are out there? How many women were victims of men just like Joseph Morelli?"

"Tell it, Sister."

"I prayed and God told me that my mission was to help these women. I would like to announce that I have founded Morelli Anonymous. It is a twelve-step program to help women who were victims of Joseph Morelli, any male member of the Morelli family or any Morelli-type male to overcome their suffering and rebuild their self-esteem so that they can live a rich and fulfilling life. The first meeting will be tonight at seven in the basement of Saint Anne's."

"Did y'all hear that? You didn't? Don't worry; we'll post the information on the Court TV website. Thank you, Sister Immaculata, for your moving story and your good works. The women of New Jersey need you. Hallelujah! This is Court TV and I'm Lula, your eyewitness to justice."

The camera caught the crowd chanting, "Go, Sister! Go, Sister! Go, Sister!", before it stopped taping.

oOoOoO

"Stephanie Plum, please come to the stand."

Stephanie rose from her seat, smoothed her skirt and made the long walk to purgatory, the witness box. Her stilettos clattered loudly on the wooden floor. Tat-tle tell. Tat-tle tell. Tat-tle tell. She felt the sting of animosity being hurled at her from Grandma Bella Morelli's venomous eye. She swore to tell the truth and hoped she had the courage to do so.

Ranger sat behind the district attorney's desk between Harry the Hammer and Alexander Ramos. He appeared passive as Connie began gently questioning Stephanie.

"Ms. Plum, can you identify the defendant?"

"Yes."

"Please state his name for the court."

"His name is Joseph Anthony Morelli."

"Do you know the defendant?

"Yes."

"How do you know the defendant?"

"I've known him most of my life. We grew up in the same neighborhood."

"Is that all?"

"No. He was my boyfriend."

"Was your boyfriend? Why did you sever your relationship with Mr. Morelli?"

Diesel jumped up. "Objection! We don't know that she ended the relationship. We need to determine who broke up with whom."

"Sustained."

Diesel tugged smugly at his lapels before sitting down again.

"I'll rephrase. When did your relationship with Mr. Morelli end?'

"A few months ago."

"Thank you. Ms. Plum, can your recount for the court your earliest recollection, your first encounter of the defendant?"

"Objection! The witness's first encounter with my client was when she was an infant. How could she possibly recount that?"

"How do you know that her first encounter with the defendant was when she was an infant?"

"I know these things," Diesel said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Connie rolled her eyes. She took a few beats to compose herself. "Your Honors, I asked for Ms. Plum's recollection of her first encounter with the defendant, not her actual first encounter."

"Overruled."

"Objection. Hearsay."

"Your Honors the witnesses perception and reactions to the defendant is crucial to the case."

"Your Honors, the-"

"Your Honors, the court allowed the other witnesses for the prosecution to respond to similar questions."

"Objection overruled. The court will allow this line of questioning."

"Ms. Plum, please tell the court of your first meeting with the defendant, as you recall it."

Stephanie told the court of how Joseph Morelli, age eight, lured her six-year old self to his father's garage to play a new game.

"What was the name of the game?"

Stephanie cleared her throat. She quietly said, "Choo Choo."

"Your honors, I did not hear the witness's answer, could you have her repeat it."

"Your Honors, for the record, the witness said 'Choo Choo'.

Judge Sinatra sang, "Tell us once, and tell us twice and tell us once again, did you say 'Choo Choo?"

Judge Plum batted her eyelashes and smiled at her brethren.

Stephanie nodded.

"Let the record show that the witness agreed that she stated that her response was 'Choo Choo'."

Connie led Stephanie through a series of questions that fully explained what happened in Joseph Morelli's father's garage.

Stephanie became tearful during the questioning. Her mother had a freshly pressed hanky passed to Stephanie. Mrs. Plum patted her own tears with another freshly pressed hanky, the twin to the one passed to Stephanie. Everyone knows that paper tissues are for wiping one's nose, but tears need to be daubed with a handkerchief, preferably one made of fine Irish linen with handmade lace trim.

Ranger clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Ms. Plum, is it fair to say that the defendant digitally penetrated you when you were six years old?"

"Objection! The prosecution is asking the witness to make a legal determination."

"Your honors, may we approach the bench?"

The judges nodded and the white noise machine was turned on. Connie argued that she was just asking the defendant to re-label the activity of the game from sticking his train in her tunnel to digital penetration. The judges allowed the description.

"Ms. Plum, were Mr. Morelli's actions, in your opinion, premeditated?"

"I guess so. He knew what the game was about and I didn't."

The Bailiff gave Stephanie a glass of water. Diesel conferred quietly with Joe and scribbled notes on his legal pad. Mrs. Plum's sobs grew louder and her husband put his arms around her for comfort. Ranger clenched his fists again.

"Ms. Plum, what is your recollection of your next encounter . . . I mean, meeting with the defendant?

Stephanie told of Joe smooth talking her into surrendering her virginity to him behind the éclair case at the Tasty Pastry. The Plum side of the gallery gasped. The males in Morelli side of the gallery had self-satisfied looks of pride on their faces as did Grandma Bella. Harry and Alex restrained Ranger in his seat.

"Ms. Plum, is it true that Mr. Morelli wrote of your sexual encounter on the walls of the men's room of Mario's sub shop and the walls of the high school stadium?"

"That's my understanding."

"Your Honors! Objection. Hearsay."

"Your Honors, I am simply asking if Ms. Plum is aware of the graffiti."

The judges agreed and Stephanie told them what she knew of the graffiti and how she knew it. There were more gasps from her side of the gallery and more looks of familial pride on Joe's side.

"Ms. Plum, is it true that Mr. Morelli illegally entered your apartment, while you were in the shower, accused you of hiding the distributor cap of his car and then handcuffed you to the shower curtain rail?'

"Yes."

"Ms. Plum, were you naked at the time?"

"Yes."

"Objection. Hearsay. Does the prosecution have pictorial evidence that Ms. Plum was naked when she was handcuffed to the shower curtain rail?" Diesel winked.

"Your honors, the defense knows that if there was pictorial evidence that I would have disclosed it in the discovery process. The witness does know if she was handcuffed naked to the shower curtain. We can provide a corroborating witness if needed."

"More hearsay."

"Overruled."

"Ms. Plum, did Mr. Morelli leave you in the embarrassing position of being handcuffed to the shower curtain while you were naked?

"Yes. But he did give me my portable phone before he left so that I could call someone for help."

"Ms. Plum, did the defendant wrap a towel around you before he left?"

"No."

"Is it fair to say that the defendant left you in an embarrassing situation and a way to get out of that situation in an equally embarrassing manner?"

"Yes."

"Ms. Plum. You're here in court today. How did you get uncuffed from the shower curtain?"

"I called a colleague."

"You didn't call nine-one-one to have the police help you?"

"No! I know most of the police force. It would have been humiliating. I called someone that I knew could help me and would keep the matter quiet."

"Who did you call?"

"Ranger, I mean Ricardo Carlos Manoso."

Ramos patted Ranger on shoulder.

Harry leaned toward Ranger. "You done that for her?

Ranger nodded.

"And you didn't tell no one?"

Ranger nodded.

"Good man"

"Ms. Plum, did you tell anyone about this incident?"

"No."

"Yet this story is common knowledge in Chambersburg, Mr. Morelli's neighborhood. How do you account for that? Please, Counsel, do not object. I'm asking for Ms. Plum's opinion."

"Eddie Gazzara told me that Joe was circulating the story."

"Who is Eddie Gazzara?"

"He's a childhood friend. He's married to my cousin Shirley, the whiner. He's a Trenton policeman."

"A Trenton policeman? Does he work with Mr. Morelli?"

"Yes, they work at the same precinct."

"Do the defendant and Officer Gazzara know each other?"

"Yes."

"Do you know this first hand?'

"I do."

"Your Honors, I'm done with this witness and the prosecution rests its case."

Ranger's body clenched.

Harry whispered to Ranger, "Don't worry. I have it on good authority that Morelli will get his."

Ranger looked at The Hammer.

"Lucille's a fair judge. She knows how to deal with scumbags. She was married to Vinnie for years before he had that unfortunate accident."

Alexander Ramos cocked his head toward Morelli. "That rat bastard, he damaged her. That explains why she didn't accept my proposal to marry me."

Harry and Ranger stared at Ramos.

Harry said, "Yeah, Alex, that's why she didn't say yes to becoming the sixth Mrs. Ramos."

"It's true. I woulda made her happy."

"Believe what you want."

"What you mean, 'believe what you want?' I know what I know."

"Yeah, right."

Ranger stopped the repartee by elbowing each man.

"Sorry, Ranger. Forgot you were here for a sec."

"Ranger, accept my apologies. I meant no disrespect. But if you ever make her unhappy, ever, I'm taking her on a one way trip to Greece and to the altar."

Mrs. Plum, who was sitting behind them gasped and crossed herself. Mr. Plum, who was sitting behind Ramos, thunked the back of Alex's head with his forefinger.

Chapter 8

Diesel sat at the defense desk during the lunch recess and poured over his notes. His lunch was a few Tagamet and a chaser of Pepto-Bismol. This case was going to gnaw an ulcer in his stomach the size of a DVD.

Diesel sat back in his chair and hissed in disgust. He thought about his dumb luck in getting this case. Morelli could not find a private attorney to take his case. He had contacted seven attorneys and they all turned him down. He had few assets outside of his retirement plans and those assets were untouchable. Because this case wasn't a police matter, Joe's union wouldn't provide counsel. The court appointed counsel in such instances and Diesel, who was the next name on the roster of court appointed lawyers, got the case.

Diesel continued to look over his notes. All of the witnesses for the prosecution were credible, especially Sister Immaculata. He needed extra Tagamet after that cross-examination. Now he was going to cross-examine Stephanie Plum, whom he personally liked and thought was as cute as can be.

He gave himself a pep talk. Diesel reminded himself that Morelli was entitled to due process, that Joe was innocent until proved guilty and crap like that. He also reminded himself that the legal process had nothing to do with the truth or justice. It came down to which lawyer presented the case that the Judges and jury bought. Right now, Connie Rosolli had the better case. Diesel thought Connie was as cute as can be, too.

He said to himself, Diesel if you can't dazzle them with your brilliance, dazzle them with your bullshit. Diesel took another Tagamet. He'd be graduating to Zantac soon.

Stephanie was called back to the stand after the lunch recess. She felt calmer. Lunch with Ranger had helped.

Diesel looked at Stephanie and gave her a small smile. "Ms. Plum, you testified that you played choo-choo in Mr. Morelli's garage when you were six years old. Did you go into the garage willingly?"

Stephanie looked at Connie, who nodded her head. "Yes."

"You went into the garage willingly. Why?"

"Joe told me that he was going to show me how to play a new game."

"Did you question why you had to go to his father's garage to play the game?"

"Your Honors, objection. Defense is asking the witness to speculate."

"Overruled."

"But your Honors, how could-"

"Overruled. The witness will answer the question."

"No."

"Why?" asked Diesel.

"Why?"

"Why didn't you question why you had to go into his father's garage to play the game?"

"I don't know. I guess because I thought there were toys in the garage."

"Hmmm. When the defendant taught you the game, did enjoy the game?"

"No."

Diesel went back to the desk and checked his notes. "You didn't like playing choo-choo with the defendant?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Your Honors, objection," Connie interjected. "Ms. Plum stated that she didn't enjoy the game. Do we really need to know the reason?"

"Overruled."

"Why didn't you enjoy the game?" Diesel continued.

"Because he was taking advantage," said Stephanie. Connie nodded. Stephanie had wanted to say that Joe wouldn't let her be the train, but Connie told her not to say that, ever.

Diesel cleared his throat. He thought, That went well. What should I do next? Challenge another bit of testimony. "Ms. Plum, you stated that it was ten years before you had another encounter with the defendant. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"You stated that you lived in the same neighborhood, yet ten years went by before you saw or spoke to Mr. Morelli again."

"Not quite."

"Hmmm. Not quite. What does that mean? You either saw and talked to the defendant or you didn't."

"I'd see him in the neighborhood or in school and I'd say hi, but that was about it."

"When you would see the defendant in the neighborhood or in school, did he say hello? Ask how you were? Things like that?"

Stephanie scrunched her nose.

"Ms. Plum, we're waiting."

"No. I think he waved once. But no, it was like I wasn't there."

Diesel glared at Joe, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Ms. Plum, you stated that at age sixteen, you were seduced by Mr. Morelli behind the éclair case of the Tasty Pastry."

"Yes."

"You hadn't talked or socially interacted with the defendant for ten years, yet you had sex with him after a few minutes conversation in a public place. May I suggest that you were-"

"Objection."

"Sustained. The defense will proceed . . . carefully."

"Ms. Plum, you stated that the defendant seduced you. How do we know that? How do we know that you didn't seduce him?"

"Your Honors, objection! The prosecution has shown through the testimony of many witnesses, including a Catholic nun, that the defendant had a pattern of seducing innocent young girls. Do we need to put another witness through the emotional wringer?"

"Sustained."

Diesel attempted to ask questions about the graffiti and the shower curtain rod incident, but Connie shut him down with her objections. Diesel liked her style and made a note to ask Connie out for a date after the trial was over. He wouldn't have any objections if she wanted to interrogate him.

"Ms. Plum, is it not true that you were romantically involved with the defendant? That you lived with him?"

Stephanie took a few calming breathes. "Kinda."

"Kinda? Ms. Plum, answer yes or no."

"Yes and no."

"Ms. Plum–"

"Yes, I was romantically involved with Mr. Morelli."

"And did you live with him?"

"Upon occasion."

"Did you live with the defendant?" Diesel repeated.

"Sometimes."

Diesel walked up to the witness stand. He leaned toward Stephanie, lowered his voice and asked, "Did. You. Live. With. The. Defendant?"

Stephanie hissed, "Yes."

"Finally, an answer! Ms. Plum, did the defendant ask you to marry him?"

Stephanie crossed her arms and looked away from Diesel. She didn't answer.

Diesel huffed, "Your Honors, please instruct the witness to answer the question."

"Ms Plum, please answer the question," instructed Judge Plum.

"Yes."

"Did you accept the proposal?"

"Yes and no."

"Ms. Plum, yes or no again? You're confusing me and the court. I'm sure that you confused my client. How are we to know what your answer is to any question? I maintain that even you don't know what your answers are. Don't object counselor, I'm finished with this witness."

Diesel returned to the defense table and sat down. He nodded to Morelli. Diesel felt the acid rise and searched for a Tagamet.

oOoOoOo

"Lu-la! Lu-la! Lu-la!", the crowd called as the crew prepped Lula to tape her spot.

"Tankie-Wankie, they love me and I love them, too. My fans! My crowd! My peeps!" Lula waved to the crowd.

"Yeah, whatever you say. On three."

"This is Court TV and I'm Lula."

"Our eyewitness to justice," the crowd responded while they put their forefingers under their eyes.

Tank made sure that the crowd was caught on tape. The eyewitness to justice bit was gaining momentum and rating points. Tank hated it, but the viewers liked it and they paid his mortgage and bought kibble for his cats.

"Well, it has been one exciting day in the Adam versus Eves trial. Stephanie Plum, former girlfriend to the scu-, I mean the defendant, Joseph Morelli, took the stand today as the final witness for the prosecution." Lula inventoried Joseph Morelli's history with Stephanie. "Let me just tell you if the defendant did to me what he did to Ms. Plum, he would be missing his manhood, if you know what I mean. I think that Ms. Stephanie Plum should get herself to St. Anne's tonight and become a charter member of Sister I's Morelli Anonymous group. Lord knows after what happened to her, she could use a support group or two."

The crowd cheered and started chanting, "Lu-la! Lu-la! Lu-la!" again.

"Tomorrow, the defense will start presenting its sorry ass case. I hope that counsel for the defense, Diesel, is ready to be served on a platter. The District Attorney, Connie Rosolli, out womanuevered , get it, Out WOMAN-uevered instead of out MANuevered, the defense at every turn of the prosecution's case. I expect Ms. Rosolli to do the same while the defense presents its case. This is Lula of Court TV and I'm your eyewitness to justice."

Chapter 9

On day three of the Morelli trial, before the morning session began, Harry the Hammer and Alexander Ramos sat in their usual spots behind the district attorney's seat. Harry felt he was looking especially dapper. His tie and pocket square matched the lining of his suit. Harry felt, that as the father of the chief judge, that his appearance should mirror his daughter's position and the solemnity of the proceedings. Why Harry felt that wearing a robin's egg blue shirt and a fuchsia paisley tie and pocket square with a light gray suit matched the solemnity of the proceedings was between him and his mirror.

Harry and Ramos were watching Lula give her pre-session report on Ramos' handheld device.

This is Lula for Court TV and I'm your eyewitness to justice.

Ramos sighed, "What a woman!"

"Yeah," said Harry. "I love her. She tells it like it is."

They both put fingers under their eyes and said in unison, "Eyewitness to justice."

"Eyewitness to justice. Clever. Eyewitness to justice," said Ramos.

"Damn Skippy. Her interview with Sister Immaculata was somethin' else. It got me right here." Harry placed his fist over his heart.

"Me, too. Right here." Ramos placed his fist over his heart, too. "I heard that there was a huge crowd at the first Morelli Anonymous meeting last night."

"Caused a traffic jam in the neighborhood. I'd heard that those Morelli boys got around, but damn, didn't anyone ever tell them to keep their pants zipped?"

Ramos raised his eyebrows. "You know that no one ever treated Lula like Morelli treated Stephanie."

They both shook their heads and tsked.

"You got the supplies?" Harry asked.

Ramos retrieved a plastic bag from underneath his seat "I got 'em." Ramos rummaged through the bag. "A box of tissues, smelling salts, eye drops, to get the red out, and Swedish fish."

"Swedish fish?"

"For me. Sometimes I need a nibble."

"What? No popcorn or sno-caps?"

"This isn't the movies."

"You should have gotten sno-caps."

Ramos looked at Harry.

"I like sno-caps."

"I like sno-caps, too," said Connie as she walked past them to the prosecution's desk.

"District Attorney Rosolli is it going to be another action packed day?" asked Ramos.

"Should be interesting."

"Who's the defense going to call as witnesses?" asked Harry.

"Anyone they could find under a rock to say something nice about Morelli," chortled Ramos.

"You got that right," said Connie.

"Are you going to carve the defense's witnesses up?" asked Harry.

"Uh huh. And serve them on a platter for dinner." said Connie.

Ramos sighed and said, "What a woman!"

oOoOoOo

Diesel called many of Joe's co-workers to the stand to act as character witnesses. They all said the same thing. That Joe was a model police officer. That he was hard working and reliable. That his combination of brains and street smarts often helped him to solve cases quickly. That his good looks and easy charm helped him to pry information from the most reluctant witnesses. That, in general he was a good cop and a great guy.

Connie's cross-examinations forced the witnesses to state that their character assessments of the defendant were based on their knowledge of him at the workplace and not in his private life. None of his colleagues could swear that they knew for sure what Joe was like after hours. All admitted that they had heard the rumors that abounded throughout the police department that Joe was a womanizer. Yes, they knew that he was dating Stephanie Plum. Yes, they heard that Joe was seeing other women on the side. Yes, they had heard the stories about Joe and Terry Gilman. Yes, Joe was a good cop, but was he a good man? They couldn't answer.

After Connie was done filleting the first round of witnesses for the defense, Diesel asked for a fifteen-minute recess to regroup and medicate his growing ulcer. He hoped his next witnesses could make his case. He also knew that Connie could break his witnesses and his case with the arch of an eyebrow and a snap of her fingers. What a woman!

oOoOoOo

Diesel stood up, straightened his tie and smoothed his lapels. While he was looking quite lawyerly in his navy pinstripe suit, white shirt and red foulard tie, he noticed that he couldn't match the sartorial splendor of one of the spectators sitting in the row behind the district attorney's desk. The man, an older man, was wearing a light gray suit, blue shirt and fuchsia paisley tie and matching pocket square. Now that was style. Diesel ran his hand through his blond locks and cast a glance at Connie. "Your honors, I call Anthony Joseph Morelli to the stand."

Anthony Morelli, older brother of Joseph, swaggered to the witness box. When he was asked to tell the truth and the whole truth, he said, "Yeah, whatever."

Diesel cringed internally. He had coached Anthony for hours on his testimony and he says 'Yeah, whatever', when he was being sworn in.

Harry murmured to Stephanie, who was now sitting beside him, "This oughta be good. Pass it on to Ramos."

Stephanie passed it to Ranger, who was sitting beside her, and Ranger told Ramos. Ramos passed an 'Uh huh' back to Harry through Ranger and Stephanie.

Mrs. Plum, who was sitting behind Harry, tapped him on the shoulder. "Shhh. There's a trial going on and I don't want to miss a word, not one single, solitary word."

"Yes Ma'am. Sorry. Not another word from me. I'm zipping my lip." A few seconds later, Harry received a text message from Ramos that read, Busted.

Anthony Morelli sat in the witness box prepared to do what he had to do: save his little brother's bony ass and keep the Morelli family reputation intact.

Diesel stood in front of the defense's desk and stared at Anthony. He was prepared to do what he had to do. Diesel had to erase the 'whatever' from the judges' minds and make Anthony appear to be a credible witness for the defense, not the prosecution.

"Mr. Morelli, when you took the oath, instead of saying 'I will'. You said, and I quote, 'Yeah whatever'. What did you mean by that?"

"Nothing. That's just how I talk. I was supposed to say I will? Nobody told me. Okay, okay, I will."

"So when you said 'Yeah whatever', you didn't mean that you would say whatever popped into your head when you answered a question. You meant that you would answer truthfully."

"Yeah, whatever."

Diesel ran his hand through his hair. "So for you, 'Yeah, whatever' is just a figure of speech and you intend to answer questions truthfully."

"Yeah, wha-"

"A simple yes or no will suffice."

Anthony said, "Yeah," and under his breath he said, "Whatever."

Harry typed a quick text to Ramos that said OMG, what an idiot. Ramos replied, You text the truth. WAJ. Harry scrunched his nose and showed the text to Stephanie.

Stephanie took a quick glance over her shoulder and gave a quick finger wave to her parents. She leaned over to Harry and whispered, "W-A-J means what a jerk."

"Mr. Morelli, do you know the defendant?"

"Know the defendant? Are you shi-, I mean, are you kiddin' me? Of course, I know him. He's my kid brother. I've known him his whole life."

Anthony told the court a tender tale. He told them that as Joe's older brother, he took it upon himself to watch over his kid brother, to protect him when their Dad had a bit too much vino, to show him the ropes and the way of the world and to teach him to be a man.

When Anthony said that he taught Joe how to be a man, Ramos immediately sent a text that had Harry laughing out loud.

"Daddy! This is a court of law."

"Sorry, Button."

"Dad-dy!"

Ramos leaned in front of Ranger and said "Button?"

Harry leaned in front of Stephanie and said, "When Lucille was a little girl, she was as cute as a button, so I started calling her 'Button' and it stuck. Now look at her. She's beautiful and brainy. Such a catch. And what did she do? She fell in love with that slime ball, Vinnie Plum and eloped."

"Daddy!"

"Button, you're breaking your father's heart."

"Button, I mean, Judge Plum," said Judge Sinatra, "Should we take a short recess?"

"Not needed, Frank. Daddy, one more outburst and I'll hold you in contempt."

"Button, you'd do that to me? Your father?"

"No. But could you keep quiet? I'm trying to try a case here."

"Sure, anything for you, Button," Harry said as he blew his daughter, the judge, a kiss.

Ramos blew Lucille a kiss, too. What a woman!

Anthony Morelli stomped his foot and said, "Yo! I was talkin' here."

"That's okay. I'm done questioning this witness," said Diesel.

Anthony started to get out of the chair, when Connie said, "Not so fast, Mr. Morelli. As the prosecuting attorney, I have the right to cross-examine you. I have some questions."

Anthony leered at Connie and muttered, "You can examine me all you want. Anytime. Any place. Any way."

"Mr. Morelli, you testified that you took it upon yourself to teach your younger brother to be a man."

"That I did."

"Did that include teaching him how to play train?"

"Train?"

"Choo-choo."

Anthony cracked a smile. "Guilty as charged."

"How old was your brother when you taught him to play choo-choo?"

"'Bout six or seven."

"Six or seven. Wasn't that a bit young?"

"Yeah, but he was smart kid and what you call a . . . a . . . ," Anthony grinned, "A fast learner."

"And just how did you teach your younger brother this game?"

"First I explained it to him and then I had him hide in a corner of the garage when I played 'choo-choo' with Mary Anne Del Vecchio."

Diesel scrubbed his face with his hands. He thought about knocking his head on the desk. Then he thought about bouncing Anthony's head on a hard surface. Diesel liked that idea and proceeded to mentally dribble Anthony's head. "Objection. Relevance?"

"Your honors, I am demonstrating that Joseph Morelli was taught at an early age to molest and take advantage of women."

"What? Are you kiddin' me? Takin' advantage? We weren't takin' advantage. We were just playin' a game," said Anthony.

"Your honors, the district attorney, is demonstrating my defense. Mr. Joseph Morelli was culturally predisposed to behave toward women in a certain manner. His behavior, in his family environment, was considered acceptable. His behavior was, just, 'boys being boys'. When he learned that his youthful behavior was not acceptable in the wide world, he ceased and desisted and became a model citizen." Diesel exhaled.

"That remains to be seen," said Connie.

The judges flipped on the white noise and conferred for a few minutes. "Counselor," crooned, Judge Sinatra, "You make an interesting point. You're overruled. You got chutzpah, kid. District Attorney Rosolli, please proceed."

Connie peppered Anthony with questions for another twenty minutes before he was dismissed. His answers clearly showed that he did not teach his brother to be a man, but that he taught him to be a reprobate. Anthony would forever refer to Connie as The Nutcracker.

Chapter 10

Stephanie ran down the long white corridor and pushed on the double doors.

Her eyes popped open and her bladder propelled her to the bathroom. She turned on the lights and the Partridge Family color scheme of orange and brown swirled around the room. Having a hangover was one thing. Having a hangover and a psychedelic experience was too much. Stephanie turned off the lights. She would make do in the dark.

Stephanie groped back through her bedroom and plopped onto the bed. Where were the cool, crisp, high thread count sheets? Where was Ranger?

Stephanie started to remember a dream she was having before Mademoiselle Bladder had so rudely interrupted it. She was living with Ranger. They were going to court for a trial. She was a witness. Morelli was the defendant. Lucille, Frankie Valli and Frank Sinatra were the judges.

Stephanie laid her head on the pillow and massaged her temples as she looked at the nightstand. The digital alarm clock's large red numbers screamed five fifteen. There was a glass of water and bottle of aspirin on the nightstand. Propped against the bottle of aspirin was a Rangeman business card with Babe scrawled across it. Stephanie tried to grin, but it ached. She thought, Ranger-roo, please tell me I didn't call him Ranger-roo, can be so thoughtful.

Her head was starting to pound, so she took a few aspirin and a large swallow of water. Where was she in that dream again? Anthony Morelli had just testified and Connie . . . Connie? Connie was cross-examining him. Stephanie wondered what happened next. It was only quarter past five. It was Saturday. She definitely needed more sleep and she definitely wanted to see what happened next.

Stephanie closed her eyes and searched for the white hallway. When she found it, she walked its length to the double doors.

Chapter 11

Ranger and Stephanie were heading back to the courthouse, when they saw Lula doing a broadcast. Lula had been hounding Stephanie for days to do an exclusive interview. She had seen Lula's interview with Sister Immaculata and didn't want the same to happen to her.

Lula couldn't understand why her friend Stephanie, a woman who had known Lula since she was a 'ho on Stark Street, a woman who she had worked with at Vincent Plum Bail Bonds, didn't want to be interviewed. As Lula told Stephanie, "It'll be just like we're having a chat. You know, girl talk, just between us."

Stephanie had rolled her eyes, yes; she had rolled those blue eyes at Lula and said, "Yeah, Just between you and me and your viewing public. No. Not going to do it. No way. No, thank you."

Lula really couldn't understand why Stephanie didn't want to do the interview. But then, when they were interviewed by the local television station after Howie got shot at the McDonald's on Lincoln Avenue, Stephanie was as stiff as could be during her portion of the interview. When Lula was interviewed, she knew that it was a breakthrough moment for her. The camera loved her and she loved the camera. The station received so many calls about her that they offered her a job as on air talent. Court TV also saw Lula on the local broadcast and made a counter offer and here she was, Your Eyewitness to Justice.

Stephanie saw Lula first. She pulled on Ranger's arm and said, "There's Lula. Damn it."

Ranger took a second to assess the situation. "Babe. Does Lula still want you to do an interview with her?"

"Yes."

"Worried she might spot you and stick a mike in your face."

"Well, yes."

"Then we'll go into the courthouse through the back entrance."

"There's a back entrance?"

"Babe, there's always a back entrance."

"Good to know."

As they changed direction to walk around the block, they saw Harry the Hammer and Alex Ramos in the front line of Lula's fans. Harry was taking a picture of Lula with his mobile phone. Ramos had his hands clasped over his heart. He looked like Pepé Le Pew swooning over Penelope Pussycat.

Stephanie said, "Look. There's Harry and Alex," and gave them a finger wave. "Court's going to start soon. They should get back to the courthouse or they'll lose their seats."

"Babe. No one will take Harry and Alex's seats."

"They might."

"Babe. The Hammer and Ramos are connected."

Stephanie mentally clunked her head. The Hammer and Ramos were senior figures in the Trenton mob. No one would take their seats.

Harry elbowed Ramos. "Time to get back to court."

"Just a few moments. I want to see her do the eyewitness to justice move."

"Yeah. I want to see that, too, but then we leave. I don't want to miss one second of this afternoon's session."

"Who's up next?"

"Terry Gilman."

"Terry Gilman?" said Ramos. "Terry Gilman? Why is that name familiar?"

"Cause she was Terry Grizolli."

"Vito's niece?"

"Yeah, her."

"Why's she being called?"

"She and Joe Morelli go way back."

"Did he do to Terry what he done to Stephanie?" asked Ramos.

Harry shook his head. "Morelli's still alive."

oOoOoOo

Stephanie and Ranger sat in their usual places behind the district attorney's desk. Stephanie kept craning her head to look for Harry and Ramos. It was nearly time for the court to start the afternoon session and they hadn't arrived. Stephanie had made sure that their seats were saved. She knew that this was pointless. Harry would have ousted anyone who sat in their places. But Stephanie felt she needed to do this little courtesy for them.

Harry and Ramos sat in their seats flanking Stephanie and Ranger. They looked like a very modern family in their pew at church: father, daughter, son, father.

The air smelled of Christmas cookies and the atmosphere crackled with tension. Diesel rose and said, "The Defense calls Theresa Gilman to the stand."

There was a hush as Terry Gilman, tall, blonde and elegant, strode to the stand. Terry had been a New York Giants' cheerleader and she was accustomed to playing to a crowd. Everything about her, from her discretely cut taupe silk suit to her matching kidskin pumps said, I'm available, but only to certain men. She gracefully sat in the witness' chair and waited for Diesel to proceed with his direct examination.

Ramos took a good look at Terry. She looked familiar to him, and not as Vito Grizolli's niece. Alex decided he needed to sit near Harry for Terry's testimony. He got up and had Ranger and Stephanie slide down so that he could sit beside Harry.

Ramos settled in his seat. He leaned over to Harry and said, "I know her."

"Of course you know her. That's Vito's niece."

"I know. But that's not how I know her. I can't place it, but I've seen her somewhere else."

Diesel started with the usual questions: name, address and occupation. Then he asked, "Do you know the defendant?"

Terry answered, "Yes."

"How long have you known the defendant?"

"For most of my life."

"How well do you know the defendant?"

"Well."

"How well?"

"We're close. Very close."

Diesel shot Joe a look.

Joe shrugged.

Diesel sighed. He knew that he had to follow up. He had to ask Terry to define close. Terry put it out there. Diesel knew he had to address it before Connie did.

Diesel looked over at Connie. Diesel anticipated her objections and prepared for them. He noticed that she was wearing a white lace push-up bra with matching panties. Being an unmentionable had its advantages.

"Ms. Gilman, define very close."

"We're involved."

Diesel glared at Joe and mouthed, "What the fuck? Why didn't you tell me?"

Joe shrugged again.

"Involved, how?"

Terry smoothly answered, "We're dating."

"How long have you and the defendant been dating?"

Terry smiled. "On and off since we were fifteen."

"On and off since you were fifteen?"

"Yes."

Diesel looked over at Connie. She was passing a note to Stephanie Plum. Diesel proceeded. "Define on and off."

"We dated through high school. That was an on period. After high school, Joe went to the navy and I moved to New York City for a few years. Then I married Billy Gilman and moved back to Trenton. That was an off period. I divorced Billy about a year later. Joe had returned from the navy and we started seeing each other again."

Diesel rubbed his temple. "Since your divorce from Mr. Gilman, have you and the defendant had a continuous relationship?"

"No."

"What kind of relationship have you had with the defendant since your divorce from Mr. Gilman?"

"We have cycles. We're on for a while, then one of us gets busy at work, or we want to explore dating other people, so we take a time out. Then we get bored and find each other again. It works for us."

"So currently what part of the cycle are you in?"

"We're on."

"How long have you been on?"

"For about six months."

Stephanie gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. She was still with Morelli six months ago.

"Ms. Gilman," said Diesel, "witnesses for the prosecution have testified that the defendant took advantage of them and treated them with careless disregard. Has the defendant treated you with careless disregard? Has the defendant taken advantage of you?"

"Objection-"

"Overruled. The witness will answer the questions."

"No. Mr. Morelli has always treated me with regard and respect."

"Thank you. No further questions."

Terry stood up.

Connie said, "Ms. Gilman, please stay on the stand. I have some questions for you."

Terry took off her suit jacket, revealing a white lacy top that looked like a camisole. She carefully folded her jacket, sat down and draped the jacket over her lap. "I'm sure you do. As you can see, I was just standing to take off my jacket."

Ramos gasped. He leaned over to Harry and said. "Now I know who she is. She's Scanta Lee Clad."

"Who?" asked Harry.

"You know. Scanta Lee Clad. She was a big sensation a few years ago."

Harry peered down his nose and said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Mrs. Plum tapped on Harry's shoulder. He looked back at her and nodded.

Ramos whispered in Harry's ear.

Harry shook his head as Ramos whispered and said in spurts, "Couldn't be." "Probably someone who looks like her." "Vito would never allow it."

oOoOoOo

"Ms. Gilman, you testified that you and the defendant have been involved with each other in recurring relationship since you were fifteen years old," state Connie.

"Yes. That's correct."

"You also testified that there have been periods when you and the defendant were not involved. That you both dated other people and explored relationships with them."

"Yes."

"And you testified that you were married to Billy Gilman during one of those off periods as you described it?"

"Yes."

"Ms. Gilman, witnesses for the prosecution testified that Mr. Morelli had sexual encounters with them from his childhood until the recent past. You mentioned that you and the defendant began dating when you both were fifteen years old"

"Objection. Your honors, will you please instruct the district attorney to ask her question and not waste the court's time with this unnecessary exposition?"

"Your honors, I need-"

"Enough," said Judge Plum, "the defense is making a valid point. Ms. Rosolli, forget the frills and ask your question. Mr. Diesel, please do not presume to know what is or isn't wasting the court's time. My brethren and I will make that determination."

Connie and Diesel muttered, "Yes your honors."

"Ms. Gilman, based on the testimony of witnesses for the prosecution, Mr. Morelli wasn't faithful to you during your on periods. Would you agree to that statement?"

"Objection!"

"Overruled."

"I would agree to that statement," Terry answered tersely.

"Ms. Gilman how did Mr. Morelli's infidelity make you feel?"

"Your honors, objection! Counsel is asking for an opinion."

"We'll allow it," trilled Judge Valli. "Overruled."

"Well Ms. Gilman, how did Mr. Morelli's infidelity make you feel?"

"It didn't bother me. Ours has always been an open relationship."

"Hmm, when you were married to Billy Gilman, were you in an open relationship with him?"

"No. We were exclusive with each other."

"Why? Why when you had been in an open relationship with the defendant?"

"Because Mr. Gilman and I discussed the matter and agreed to become mutually exclusive when became engaged."

"Ms. Gilman, did you honor your agreement with Mr. Gilman?"

"Yes."

"Did Mr. Gilman honor the agreement?"

"Your honors!"

Connie said, "Your honors, these questions are being asked to illustrate a point."

"What point is that, counselor?" intoned Judge Sinatra.

"That Mr. Morelli's behavior toward Ms. Gilman has hurt her too. That she too is a victim of his behavior and actions."

"Proceed," said Lucille.

"No."

"No? What happened?"

"Mr. Gilman was unfaithful to me."

"How did you learn of your husband's infidelity?"

"I found him-, I found him having sex with another person in our bed."

"Interesting. Ms. Gilman, you said another person, not another woman. Was your husband in bed with another woman?"

There was silence for a few beats. Terry cleared her throat. "No. He was in bed with another man."

"What did you do when you found your husband, the man that you pledged to be faithful too in bed with another man?"

"I chased them out of the house."

"I have a police report that states that you brandished a firearm at them. Is this true?"

"Yes."

"Did you reinstate your relationship with the defendant after you discovered your husband's infidelity?"

"Yes. Joe was there for me during my separation and eventual divorce."

"But he continued to see other women."

"Yes."

"And that didn't bother you."

"I've always known about Joe's dalliances because he tells me about them. It's part of our open relationship. Joe has his dalliances and returns to me, always."

"Dalliances. Is that how you describe Mr. Morelli's relationships with women other than you?"

"Yes," Terry repaired. "That's what they are. Insignificant diversions. Dalliances."

"Ms. Gilman, did you know that Mr. Morelli told Stephanie Plum that he was in love with her and asked her to marry him a few times?"

"What?"

"Mr. Morelli declared his love to Stephanie Plum and proposed to her on several occasions. Didn't you know that?"

"No I did not."

"I thought that you and Mr. Morelli had an open relationship, that he was candid and forthright with you."

"So did I," Terry fumed. "That lying, cheating bastard. That son of a bitch. I believed his lines. "I love you Terry. No one understands me like you do Terry. There's no one like you.' You bastard. You rotten bastard. You're a lying cheat, just like Billy Gilman. I'll make sure you that you get yours, just like Billy Gilman got his."

"Your honors, I had no further questions."

Chapter 12

"Viewers, this is Lula, your Eyewitness to Just-ess. Yesterday was another excitin' day here at the Mercer County Courthouse. Lord! Terry Gilman, love interest to that scumba-, I mean the defendant, Joseph Morelli, found out that he was playing her for a foo'. And she was supposed to be a witness for the defense."

The ever-present crowd of Lula's Witnesses chanted. Scum-bag! Scum-bag! Mor-el-li is a Scum-bag!

Lula looked into the camera and pointed at the lens. "Not smart, Joey, boy. Ms. Thing, I mean, Ms. Gilman, has an uncle named Vito. Uh huh, you know the one. I'll be surprised if he doesn't put a whoppin' on your well-defined buns for doing wrong to the niece he thinks of as an extra daughter. Child, don't be thinking that you're safe in prison. You aren't safe anywhere. Got it?

"Gotta give props to Ms. Gilman. She handled the news that Joe Morelli proposed to Stephanie Plum with dignity. She did not cry. She vowed revenge and with her family, she could get it. She wore her big girl pants with pride." Lula stopped for a moment. "Big girl. Didn't cry. What does that remind me of? I know! I know." Lula began singing. "Big-ig Girls don-ooh-ooh-n't cry-i-i."

As Lula began dancing, she saw Judges Plum, Sinatra and Valli walking out of the courtroom. "Hold it. Let's see what Judge Valli has to say about Terry Gilman's testimony." Lula ran up to Judge Valli. She took mincing steps in deference to her four-inch stiletto heels and kept her ample bosom from jiggling to and fro by pressing a hand to her chest. Lula thrust the microphone in front of Judge Valli's face and said, "Judge Valli? Judge Frankie Valli?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to comment on Terry Gilman's testimony?"

"Sorry, I'm obliged not to comment."

"But, Judge Valli, would you say that Ms. Gilman was dignified when confronted with Mr. Morelli's infidelity and didn't shed a tear?" Lula cocked her head to one side and smiled.

"Sorry, but I can't comment."

"Would you say that Ms. Gilman acted mature when her testimony was disputed by the District Attorney?"

Judge Valli remained silent.

"Would you say that Ms. Gilman acted like a big girl?" Lula winked at the camera and the crowd.

Judge Valli took the microphone from Lula and said, "I can make this comment. Big girls don't cry." Then he began singing, "Big-ig Girls do-ooh-ooh-n't cry-i-i. Bi-ig girls, do-ooh-n't cry."

Lula joined in and sang, "They don't cry." Harry and Ramos joined Lula to do back-up vocals while Judge Valli sang lead.

Tank scrubbed his face. He thought, Lula's out of control. Out of control, but in a way that was racking up the ratings points.

Judge Sinatra stood with Judge Plum on the sidelines, tsking and shaking his head. "I got songs. Why doesn't anybody bring up my lyrics in conversation? It's all 'Sherry baby' and 'big girls don't cry'."

"Frank, how many times has Twyla Tharp choreographed dances to your songs? Her last Broadway production used only your songs. It was a hit."

"Jersey Boys won a Tony."

"Yeesh, Frank! You're a classic. Get past yourself."

When the song was over, Tank called "cut" and they went to a commercial break. Lula was winded and needed her make-up refreshed before they went back on air.

Tank said, "You're on in three … two … one."

Lula said, "Wasn't that fun? Let's give Judge Valli, Harry the Hammer and Alexander Ramos a big hand."

The crowd roared. The camera cut to the three men, who bowed and waved. Then it cut to the crowd and finally to Lula.

"Today, the scumba-, I mean Joseph Anthony Morelli, Officer Hottie himself, will be taking the witness stand to defend what the viewers have voted is the best ass in New Jersey, even if it's attached to a . . . scumbag. There, I said it, scumbag. Give me an 'Amen'!"

The crowd roared, "AMEN!"

oOoOoOo

The courtroom was hushed and ready for the business of the day. The court officials assembled and took their places. The spectators settled into their seats, prepared for the next act in the drama. Harry and Ramos took their usual places in the front row flanking Stephanie and Ranger.

Helen Plum, sitting in the row behind her daughter, leaned forward and tapped Harry's shoulder. Mrs. Plum put her head between Harry and Stephanie's and whispered, "I saw you on Lula's Eye Witness to Justice report."

"Yes, Ma'am," answered Harry.

"You and Mr. Ramos sing well together."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"The singing was nice, but you need to add choreography, like the Temptations or the Pips do, to add a little flair to the act," offered Mrs. Plum

"I'll take that under advisement," said Harry.

Mrs. Plum patted Harry's shoulder, "You do that." She sat back and righted herself. Helen Plum was ready to hear what Joseph Morelli, a man who had sat at her dinner table many times, had to say for himself and his disgraceful, no, criminal behavior towards her daughter and the other women of Trenton.

Diesel stood, smoothed the front of his jacket. He had taken the precaution of taking a Tagamet as a chaser with his breakfast. He knew he'd need it. He had also taken extra time grooming today, since he expected that all the eyes in the courtroom would be on him and Joe Morelli for most of the day. Diesel expected that the Court TV artist would be making a ton of sketches of him today. He had been purchasing her discards since the trial began to send to his mom and planned to buy today's discards as well.

Diesel made sure that Joe was looking his most neat, clean and respectable. About a week ago in a pre-trial dress rehearsal, Diesel had had Joe model the two suits that he owned. Joe looked like a casino pit boss. Morelli's taste in suits ran to the shiny.

After the rehearsal, Diesel drove Morelli straight to the Brooks Brothers outlet at Franklin Mills and got a few courtroom outfits for his wayward client. The somber suits, conservative ties and oxford cloth shirts helped to make Morelli look like a button down guy.

Diesel cleared his throat. "The defense calls Joseph Anthony Morelli to the stand."

Joe Morelli rose from his seat at the defense table and strutted the short distance to the witness stand. The preppie clothes toned down his swagger a notch. Joe looked at the courtroom while taking the oath.

Diesel went through the usual litany of name, age, residence, occupation and personal history.

"Mr. Morelli, you've heard the testimony of your accusers."

"Your honors," Connie said. "Defense's choice of the word accusers is prejudicial."

"We'll allow it," chirped Judge Valli. "Overruled."

"I want my objection to the word accusers noted," said Connie.

"So be it," said Lucille.

Diesel said, "I'll repeat. Mr. Morelli, you heard the testimony of your accusers?"

Joe leaned forward. "Yes, sir."

Yes, sir, Diesel thought, nice touch.

"Mr. Morelli, does your recollection of events match those of your accusers?"

"Objection."

"Overruled."

Connie glared at Diesel then straightened the papers in front of her.

Diesel grinned in response to Connie's glare. Diesel thought Connie was looking mighty fine today.

"No, sir. My recollection of events is different than those of the women who testified against me."

"How does your recollection differ from theirs?"

Joe colored and gave a shy smile. "I remember the events as pleasurable; as intimate moments between willing participants."

oOoOoOo

Connie looked up from her notes when Morelli said, "as intimate moments between willing participants." She shook her head, wrote Smooth Operator or Lying Bastard? on her legal pad and underlined Lying Bastard, three times.

Alex Ramos, texted Smooth to the Hammer. Harry nodded when he read the text and showed it to Stephanie, who scowled.

Diesel went on to dissect the prosecution's case by asking Morelli to dispute each of its witnesses' testimony. The process was tedious and mind numbing. Morelli, who, as a police detective, had been an expert witness in many cases, held up well. The judges discretely covered yawns. Connie diligently took notes. And Harry took a nap. When his soft snoring became noticeable, Mrs. Plum had Stephanie elbow him awake.

oOoOoOo

Connie spent the lunch recess reviewing her notes and preparing her cross-examination. She felt that there were enough holes in Morelli's testimony to drive a Mack truck through.

Connie rose and directed her gaze toward Morelli. "Mr. Morelli, you testified earlier today that you described your many-"

"Objection. What is 'many'? The prosecution should be made to define the term 'many'."

"Sustained," said Judge Sinatra. "The prosecution will define 'many'."

"Your honors, the Oxford English Dictionary defines 'many' as great in number, numerous."

"Your honors, with all due respect, the prosecution should be made to be more specific."

"Six," Connie snapped. "I would say that six constitutes 'many'. Would your honors and defense counsel agree?"

"Six, is acceptable to the court," said Judge Lucille.

"But your honors, I would l think that ten would constitute 'many' since it is the first double digit number."

"Attorney Diesel, thank you for your opinion of the definition of 'many' and double digit numbers, but the court has accepted six as the definition of 'many'. Attorney Rissoli, proceed."

"Mr. Morelli," Connie continued, "you said that you thought of your many encounters with the women of Trenton as intimate moments between willing participants, did you not?"

"I did," answered Joe.

"Were the participants willing?"

"To the best of my recollection."

"Is it possible that the participants were flattered? Coerced by your looks and manner?"

"Perhaps."

"Is it possible, that the participants were flattered and/or coerced? Yes or No?"

"Maybe."

Connie looked at the judges. "May I ask the court to instruct the witness to answer with a simple yes or no?"

The court instructed Morelli to answer the question as asked and he replied yes.

"Mr. Morelli, describe intimate?"

Joe blushed. "We had, uh, we had sex."

"So, to be clear, you describe intimate as having sex."

"Yes."

"Mr. Morelli, did you have sex with Ms. Plum behind the éclair case at the Tasty Pastry? Yes or no?"

Helen Plum gasped. Her husband drew her near for support. Stephanie looked down at her shoes. Ranger grasped her hand and squeezed it.

"Yes."

"Based on your definition, that was an intimate moment."

"Yes."

"You had an intimate moment behind the éclair case at the Tasty Pastry."

"Yes."

"The Tasty Pastry is a business that is open to the public."

"Yes, but the event happened after hours."

"Sex on the floor of a bakery is intimate?"

"It was to me."

"Mr. Morelli, did you memorialize the event at the Tasty Pastry by writing graffiti about said event?"

"Yes."

"And where did you write the graffiti?"

"The men's room at Mario's subs and under the bleacher of the stadium."

Mr. Plum seethed and squirmed in his seat. Mrs. Plum patted his arm and said, "Later, Frank. You can get him later."

"Mr. Morelli, was this the only time that you documented an intimate moment."

"No."

"Did you or did you not document most of your conquests, I mean, your intimate moments on walls in men's rooms throughout the 'Burg"

Diesel stood up. "Your honors, this line of questioning is extremely prejudicial."

"Your honors, I'm just asking the witness to confirm or deny allegations made by the prosecution's witnesses."

"Overruled. The prosecution may proceed."

"Mr. Morelli, do you have an explanation for why you documented your 'intimate moment'?"

"I was a teenager."

"Mr. Morelli, did you respect the women that you had intimate moments with?"

Joe looked evenly at Connie.

"Mr. Morelli, were you friends with the women that you seduced prior to your intimate moments? Did you establish relationships, friendships with the women that you seduced? Other than Ms. Gilman and Ms. Plum, did you ever talk to your victims-"

"Your honors, counsel is a.) badgering the witness and b.) using prejudicial language."

"Sustained. Ms. Rosolli, you will discontinue this line of questioning."

"Your honors," Diesel said, "I would like to have Ms. Rosolli's questions regarding intimate moments be stricken from the record."

"Overruled, the questions will remain a part of the records."

"Your honors!" Diesel wailed.

"Counsel Diesel, cease and desist or you'll be held in contempt."

"Yes, your honors."

"Mr. Morelli, is it true that you played choo-choo with Stephanie Plum in your father's garage when she was six years old?"

"Yes."

"How old were you at the time?"

"Eight."

"When you invited Ms. Plum to play choo choo, how did you describe the game?"

"To the best of my recollection, I told Ms. Plum that I knew a new game, called train and that I wanted to teach her how to play it."

"Teach her or show her?"

"Show her."

"Please describe how you showed Ms. Plum to play train."

Joe offered a sanitized version of the game. Connie made Joe unsanitize it with her questions.

Mrs. Plum sobbed. Ramos pulled the box of tissues from his supply kit and handed a wad to Mr. Plum to give to his wife. Stephanie looked at the floor as tears streamed down her face. Ramos handed Ranger some tissues and he blotted Stephanie's tears.

The remainder of Connie's cross-examination rehashed Diesel's direct examination.

After Connie's cross, the defense rested its case.

Chapter 13

"Viewers, this is Lula, your Eyewitness to Just-ess. Got stuff to tell you before I give you the four-one-one on what happened in the Morelli, 'Adam versus Eves' trial today."

The ever-present crowd of Witnesses chanted, "Go Lu-la! Go Lu-la! Go Lu-la!"

"Since this morning's report, Court TV received a sh-, I mean, a boat load of calls, texts, twats-"

Tank screamed from off-camera, "Not twats, tweets. Tweets, get it? Like little birdies that go TWEET, TWEET, TWEET."

Lula gave Tank a hard look and proceeded. "I mean," Lula dragged out, "tweets and other types of communications claiming that Terry, 'Miss Thing' Gilman is none other than the exotic dancer and, a-hem, 'actress', Scanta Lee Clad." Lula did the quotes thing when she said actress.

Tank muttered, "That woman is going to be the . . ." He walked to a nearby tree and ripped off a few limbs.

Lula continued in a just-between-us girls voice, "I had my crew do some research and we can confirm that Theresa 'Terry' Grizzoli Gilman and Scanta Lee Clad are not the same person."

On the television screen, there were side-by-side photographs of Terry Gilman and Scanta Lee.

"Now I know the resemblance is shocking, like they was, ur, were, twins separated at birth. But no, not only are they not the same person, they're not even kin. Scanta Lee Clad is one Valentine La Rue of Magnolia, Mississippi, and she's three years older than Ms. Gilman. For all of you that were sure that Scanta Lee and Ms. Gilman were one and the same, I'd be keeping that to yourself."

Harry, who was standing front and center in the crowd of Witnesses, elbowed Ramos. "Guess you got that one wrong, Alexander. Very wrong."

Ramos shrugged.

"Next, Sister Immaculata will be holding a special Morellis Anonymous meeting at Saint Anne's tonight at seven pm." Lula stared at the camera for a beat. She pointed a well-manicured finger at the lens and said, "Sister I has asked me to say to you, Stephanie Plum, and to you, Terry Gilman, that you are invited to tonight's meeting and that you will be embraced by your sistern-"

Tank called out, "Not cistern, sisters."

"Excuse us for a moment." Lula stomped over to Tank and the camera followed. "What do you mean not sistern? Of course it's sistern; it's the female version of brethren."

Tank held fast and said, "Cistern is not the female version of brethren. A cistern is an underground storage tank to hold rainwater."

Lula looked at the camera and her crowd of Witnesses. "Oopsy. Well sometimes things like that happen. Sister I also wanted me to announce that there will be a prayer vigil tonight to pray that Joseph Anthony Morelli will see the wickedness of his ways and will repent and atone for his sins. The vigil will also be at Saint Anne's, and will start immediately after the MA meeting.

"Now to the main topic, the testimony of Joseph Anthony Morelli. All I can say is that the man is a smooth, underline smooth, operator. The way he told the story, he was doing the women of Trenton a social service by giving them the once in a lifetime opportunity to explore his chassis. And a fine one it is, but Lordy, let's get real, he's not the only flame in town. That attorney of his, Diesel. You know the one. Tall, blond and fine. Very, very fine. He's available. I bet he'd show a woman a fine time. A very fine time. I'd like to get my hands on his unmentionables. Wouldn't you?" Lula pointed her microphone to the crowd.

The Witnesses stomped and cheered. Tank stomped, but he didn't cheer.

"The prosecution sliced and diced Morelli's testimony and exposed him for the ass-, er, I mean, pri-, er, I mean scum-bag that he is. The defense rested their case and now it's in the hands of the judges to decide on the fate of Joseph Anthony Morelli. We expect a decision by tomorrow. It's not like they have a lot of deliberating to do, the foo' is guilty and we all know it."

The crowd cheered.

"Until tomorrow, this is Lula, your eye witness to just-ess." Lula made her signature gesture and so did the crowd.

Chapter 14

Judges Plum, Sinatra and Valli entered the courtroom looking somber and serious. They had spent the morning reviewing the testimony of the witnesses and debating the merits of the case. Then they deliberated for a few moments before reaching their verdict. Since this was a juryless trial, the judges dispensed with the usual procedure of handing the verdict to the bailiff to read and announce.

Joe Morelli and his attorney stood and waited for the verdict to be read. Both men worked to control their anxiety, but weren't successful. Joe had a mist of sweat on his upper lip. Diesel's frozen face was betrayed by his knitted brow.

Judge Plum looked at the defendant and his defender and pursed her lips. Judges Sinatra and Valli gave Joe their best fuhgeddaboudit smirks. Joe saw in his peripheral glances hopeful looks on both sides of the gallery. One side of the courtroom was waiting to hear that he was avenged. The other side wanting the official proclamation of his guilt.

"Angela Morelli, please stand up," Lucille said.

There was a brief hush and then murmuring as Angela Morelli stood up from her place behind her youngest son. Angela Morelli gave Lucille Plum an indignant glare.

"Mrs. Morelli, before we announce your son's verdict, I want you to know that it is the finding of this court that you are culpable for his behavior and the outcome of this trial," said Lucille.

Mrs. Morelli continued to look plainly at the judges.

"Mrs. Morelli," said Judge Sinatra, "do you have a daughter?"

"Yes," said Angela Morelli.

"How would you feel if someone had treated your female child as your son treated the women who testified in this trial? As he treated Stephanie Plum? As he treated . . . Sister Immaculata?"

"Those, those, what's the word," Angela Morelli said snapping her fingers, "'allegations' haven't been proven,"

"Mrs. Morelli, shame on you," said Judge Valli. "The allegations have been proven to us."

"Yes, Mrs. Morelli," said Judge Sinatra pointing his finger at Angela Morelli, "shame on you for not teaching your sons to know the difference between right and wrong. And believe me, Mrs. Morelli, your son did wrong."

Angela Morelli looked like she was ready to give the court what for, but Lucille pounded her gavel and directed Angela Morelli to be seated.

"Joseph Anthony Morelli," said Judge Plum, "this court finds you guilty on all charges."

Chapter 15

Stephanie tossed back and forth in her bed. She flipped her pillow to the cool side, but it did little good. Her head was throbbing.

Lucille said, "Joseph Anthony Morelli, we find you guilty on all charges. What say you?"

There was a momentary hush in the gallery. Then murmurs claimed the silence. Mr. Plum started to rise from his seat, but his wife held his arm and said, "Not now, Frank. Not here."

Lucille slammed her gavel on its sound block and ordered silence.

Stephanie felt like someone was wielding a hammer inside her skull.

Joe Morelli looked evenly at the judges. He said nothing. Diesel elbowed him, but Joe said nothing.

Diesel said, "Your honors, on behalf of my client, we have no response to the question."

Lucille put her hands on the bench and interlaced her fingers.

Harry sent a text to Ramos explaining that the look on Lucille's face meant that Joe was toast. Ramos responded asking if Joe was French toast, multigrain or whole wheat toast. Harry messaged, burnt toast.

"Mr. Morelli, my esteemed brethren and I have carefully reviewed the transcripts and evidence of this trial before rendering our verdict and deciding on your sentence."

"Your honors, may I say-" started Diesel.

"Attorney Diesel, you're out of order," said Judge Valli.

Diesel nodded.

"We sentence you," Lucille continued, "to ten years without parole."

Frank Plum lunged out of his seat, past the barrier to the defense table. Helen, Stephanie and Ranger hurried after him. Frank grabbed Joe by the throat and shook him back and forth. "You bastard! You rat bastard! Ten years is not enough for what you did to my daughter."

Diesel and Ranger went to intervene but Mr. Plum's grip around Joe's neck was vice-like and tightening. Joe gasped for air. His arms were flailing. His face reddened.

Lucille pounded her gavel. She demanded order in the court. Lucille pounded her gavel again. She ordered the bailiff and the other officers in the court to separate the defendant from his attacker. Lucille continued to pound her gavel, louder and harder.

Stephanie's head ached and throbbed. She tossed and turned and tossed and turned.

Stephanie swept out of the courtroom into the white corridor and ran.

oOoOoOo

Ranger stood beside Stephanie's bed. She was sleeping somewhat on her side and somewhat on her stomach. Her face was half buried in her pillow. The part of Stephanie's face that Ranger could see looked pained. He was glad that he had stopped at McDonald's to get the cure.

It was eight a.m. The clock radio clicked on and began piping in old school soul. The Staples' Singers were crooning, Respect Yourself. Ranger put the industrial sized cup of Coca-Cola on the nightstand and shifted the switch to turn off the music.

With bag in hand, Ranger walked to the small galley kitchen. He fished a plate out of the cupboard and dumped the extra large order of French fries on it. He found the saltshaker on the counter and sprinkled a liberal amount on the potatoes. Then he carefully opened the packets of ketchup and made a mound on the side of the plate for dipping.

Ranger looked in on Rex, Stephanie's hamster, who lived on the kitchen counter. Rex appeared to be sleeping. Ranger refreshed Rex's water supply. Personally, Ranger thought that it was unsanitary for the rodent to live in the kitchen. He thought that Rex should live somewhere else, like Siberia, Somalia or Syria.

Ranger walked back into the bedroom and waved the plate of fries by Stephanie's face. She sniffed a few times. She turned her face towards the aroma and opened an eye.

"Morning, Babe."

Stephanie grimaced. "Is it morning?"

Ranger nodded ever so slightly and said, "It is. How's your head?"

"It's pounding," Stephanie groaned. "Oh my, God!"

"What?"

"I'm blind in my right eye."

"Babe you're not blind."

"How do you know? You don't know that I'm not blind in my right eye."

"I do know."

"How?"

"Because your eye is closed."

"Oh." Stephanie rubbed her eye to rid it of the encrusted schmutz. It took a few blinks before the eye opened fully. "How much did I drink? Don't tell me. More than I should have. Is that …?" Stephanie inhaled. "Is that the cure?"

Ranger nodded and held out the plate to Stephanie.

She grabbed a handful of fries, dipped them in the ketchup and stuffed them in her mouth. Between chews she said, "em q."

Ranger handed the Coke to Stephanie and she drew a large slurp. She mechanically ate and drank until the fries and Coke were gone. Stephanie slumped back on her pillow and massaged her forehead. "Thank you. You saved my life."

oOoOoOo

"I had the strangest dream," Stephanie said.

"Not surprising. An overload of alcohol can do that."

"No, this dream was beyond alcohol. It was surreal."

"Babe."

"It was. Honest. There was this trial. Morelli was on trial. And Lula was a reporter for something called Court TV. Lucille, Vinnie's wife, was one of the judges."

"Lucille Plum was a judge? Babe, you have one vivid imagination," Ranger said as he sat on the bed.

"No, no it was the dream. Harry the Hammer was there. Frank Sinatra and Frankie Valli-"

"Frankie Valli, of the Four Seasons?"

Stephanie nodded, but very slowly. The headache was just starting to break.

Ranger smiled and said, "Babe, you have one hell of an imagination."

Stephanie shrugged and began telling Ranger about the dream.

Ranger laughed. A real honest to goodness laugh. "Trying to imagine Harry the Hammer and Ramos singing back-up for Frankie Valli. They're not back-up types."

"I know," said Stephanie, "but they were singing back-up. Lula was singing back up, too. And my mom told Harry that he and Ramos needed to do dance moves like the Pips."

Ranger laughed again. "Your mom might have a point there."

Stephanie continued to tell Ranger about the dream. "Then my dad started choking Joe."

"Then what happened?" asked Ranger.

"Don't know. I woke up and you were handing me a plate of fries."

"Too bad. Would have liked know if your dad finished the job."

"What job?"

"Morelli. If you were my daughter, I'd strangle Morelli."

"You'd strangle Morelli?"

"Probably not. There are other ways." Ranger stood up and gathered the remnants of the cure.

"You're leaving?"

Ranger nodded. "I have a full schedule today. I just wanted to see that you were alright."

"What am I going to do?"

"About what?"

"About Morelli?"

There was a knock at the door, then another. There were a few beats of quiet and then more knocking. "Cupcake, are you awake? We need to talk."

Chapter 16

"Cupcake, I know you're in there," continued Morelli. "Open the door. I have something for you."

Stephanie bolted upright in the bed. Her eyes widened and she furrowed her brow.

"Lookin' crazy there, Babe," Ranger said.

"It's, it's, it's . . . Morelli."

Joe rapped on the door again. Mr. Wolesky, Stephanie's neighbor, opened his door and walked out into the hall wearing a bathrobe and a pair of highly polished wing tips. Mr. Wolesky had been in the military a hundred years ago and still kept his shoes inspection ready.

"What in the Sam Hill . . . Hey, you, young man."

Joe looked at Mr. Wolesky and pointed at himself.

"Yeah, you. You're the only one in the hall. What's with the racket? It's eight in the morning. People haven't had their first cup of coffee or their morning dump yet."

"Sorry."

"Say that again? Haven't you heard of calling first?"

"Won't happen again."

"Good. Next time I'll call the police."

"I am the police."

"What's that you say, young man?"

"Nothing," said Joe. "Sorry."

Mr. Wolesky dismissed Joe with a wave of his arm and went back into his apartment.

oOoOoOo

Joe fished in his jeans' pocket and retrieved his key ring. He flipped through the keys until he found the one to Stephanie's apartment. He put the key in the slot in the doorknob and turned it clockwise until he felt the lock click open. He turned the knob and pushed the door open only for it to catch on the safety chain.

Joe whispered loudly through the gap between the door and its jamb. "Stephanie, open the door. I know you're in there. Your car's in the lot."

Stephanie collapsed back on the bed and pulled the covers over her head. Ranger reached over and folded back the blanket to unveil Stephanie's face

"What am I going to do?" Stephanie extended her lower lip and exhaled upward. A few stray strands of her hair lifted and fell. "I'm sure that Joe is here to 'talk' about things."

"You two need to talk."

"I know that. But Joe is not going to understand you being here this early in the morning."

Joe rattled the door to disengage the safety chain. "C'mon, Stephanie, open up."

"Maybe," Stephanie said, "if I ignore him, he'll go away."

"He'll go away. But eventually he'll want to talk."

"I can't deal with this now," Stephanie whined, "my head still hurts." Stephanie pulled the covers back over her head.

Stephanie's cell phone rang. She flipped back the covers. "Shh. I'm gonna let it go to voice mail." The cell phone stopped ringing and the apartment was blissfully quiet again. They could hear Morelli murmuring a message. Within seconds the land line starting ringing.

"Better answer it or he won't stop calling," Ranger said as he handed Stephanie the receiver of the phone on her nightstand.

Stephanie answered groggily. "Hello."

"Cupcake. Where have you been? I've been knocking on your door and calling."

"Bathroom. Hangover," Stephanie croaked.

"I figured you'd be hung over. I'm outside your door. I couldn't get the cure because McDonalds doesn't have fries until after eleven, so I got hash browns instead."

Stephanie looked at Ranger and wondered how he managed to get McDonald's fries before eleven a.m. "No! Not now. My head is pounding and my stomach, well-"

"I can fix whatever ails you."

"No. Sleep. I need sleep," said Stephanie.

"I can sleep with you and hold your head."

"No. Go away. I'm still mad at you. Later . . . maybe." Stephanie ended the conversation by putting the receiver into its cradle. Soon they heard footfalls that grew softer and then silent.

"Great performance. Very believable," said Ranger.

"Wha-"

"Babe."

Stephanie sat up ramrod straight. She narrowed her eyes, "Where's your car? How come Morelli didn't ask about your car?"

"I parked a few blocks away."

"Why?"

"In case Morelli showed up. I didn't want to complicate matters."

"Everything's complicated," Stephanie said as she fell back on the bed and pulled the covers up around her shoulders.

"Tell me about it," Ranger said. He kissed Stephanie on the forehead, took the debris from the cure to the kitchen and left.

Chapter 17

At five, Joe Morelli sat at a table in a dark corner of Pino's restaurant waiting for Stephanie. A pitcher of beer and two mugs sat on the table. He poured some of the beer into the mug closest to him. He checked the time on his wristwatch against the clock above the bar. As usual, she was late, but according to the cell phone call that they had just ended, she was on her way. Joe absently slid his forefinger up and down the side of his mug, mopping the condensation on the sweating glass.

He thought, why did she want to meet here instead of at my place or hers? Usually when they met to reconcile after a fight, they met at one of their places so that they could tumble into bed for make-up sex.

Stephanie insisted that they meet here, at Pino's. Joe had spent over a half hour convincing her that they should meet. At first, Stephanie refused to see him, but Joe was able to convince her, by rebutting all of her excuses, that they really did need to meet to discuss their latest argument.

Joe was not happy that Stephanie's grandmother, that kook, Grandma Mazur, had ratted him out about the shooting at Terry Gilman's. He guessed that being a fixture on the 'burg grapevine was the price he would pay whenever he conducted an investigation in or near his home neighborhood. He could handle that, but this investigation had included an in-depth investigation of Terry and her lingerie collection. He came that close to the Plums learning about his extra-Stephanie activities. Damn.

oOoOoOo

Stephanie crept into Pino's. She was glad it was dark. It hurt to squint. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dark. When they did, she scanned the restaurant and found Joe sitting at a table in a corner at the other side of the room. Their eyes caught. Stephanie gave Joe a finger wave and gingerly walked through the restaurant.

Stephanie slid into the seat across from Joe and gave him a weak smile.

"Cupcake, what kept you? I've been waiting-"

Stephanie put her elbows on the table and held her aching head in her hands. "Shh. Stop shouting."

"I'm not shouting."

"It feels like you're yelling."

"I'm not yelling. Still have some of the hangover?"

Stephanie nodded, slowly. If she nodded quickly, it might make her nauseous. The drive to Pino's nearly did her in. It always took Stephanie a day to shake a hangover, even with the cure. Of course, she was exaggerating her symptoms a bit for effect.

Joe filled Stephanie's mug with beer. "Here," said Joe as he pushed the mug toward Stephanie. "Hair of the dog."

Stephanie blanched at the sight of the beer. "Coke. I need a coke."

Joe held up his arm and motioned to the waitress. They ordered the coke and a pizza with extra cheese and pepperoni.

"We need to talk," said Joe.

"I know."

"Are we going to talk?"

Stephanie narrowed her eyes. "Yeah."

oOoOoOo

The other people who were dining at Pino's that evening didn't expect entertainment with their meals. The didn't expect to see the Stephanie Plum/Joe Morelli floor show complete with waving arms, raised voices and a dramatic exit. Those who sat near to the couple heard this exchange.

"So we're going to talk?" said Morelli.

"I told you yeah," said Stephanie.

"You go first,"

Stephanie wiggled her finger in front of Joe's face. "No, you talk first. You have a lot to explain."

Joe caught Stephanie's finger in mid-wiggle. "About what, Cupcake?"

"About Terry Gilman and her lingerie, and being shot and falling out of her bedroom window," Stephanie said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, that. That was nothing. I was doing undercover work."

"Really. With Terry in her lingerie. In her bedroom. Sounds more like under the covers work to me."

"Where did you get that idea, from Grandma Mazur?" ask Joe as he waved his arms.

"No. It doesn't take much to figure out that something fishy was going on."

"Cupcake-"

"Don't you 'Cupcake' me. I saw the way you looked at Terry Gilman at your cousin Julie's wedding and the way she looked at you." Stephanie had raised her voice and heads in the restaurant turned and looked at her.

"Terry's a good looking woman, of course I looked at her," hissed Joe. "I'm not dead."

"To me you are," Stephanie hissed back. "I don't trust you. You've been taking advantage of me since, since forever."

"Ah, Cupcake, are we going back to the garage again?"

"No, I mean, yes," stammered Stephanie. "You were a junior perv."

"You followed me into the garage."

"I thought you were going to teach me a new game."

"I did."

"Yeah. Some game." Stephanie looked around the restaurant. "You shouldn't have known about that type of game when you were eight."

"What can I say, I was advanced."

"Yeah, advanced for a junior pervert."

"Are you going to blame me for your lack of judgment forever."

Stephanie stood up and threw her napkin on the table. Stephanie put her hands on the table and leaned forward, getting close to Morelli, nearly nose to nose. "I blame you for everything. I blame you for choo choo. I blame you for selling my cannoli to you at the Tasty Pastry. I blame you for ruining my shower curtain. And I blame you for cheating on me with Terry Gilman."

Joe stayed in this chair and coolly said, "You have no proof that I'm cheating on you with Terry Gilman."

"I don't need proof. I know."

"You have no proof, Cupcake."

"You're debating me about it. That's all the proof I need." And with that, Stephanie stormed out of the restaurant. All eyes were on her as she left the restaurant.

Joe was going to storm after her, but why? Stephanie figured out the obvious. He ordered another pitcher of beer, called Terry Gilman and made a date to see her later that night.

Chapter 18

Stephanie angled into her Escape. She muttered as she put the keys into the ignition and started the engine. Her mobile phone trilled. It took her three rings to find the phone in her purse. "Yeah."

"Yeah? Stephanie? Stephanie, is that you? This is your mother speaking."

"It's me."

"So, you don't say hello anymore? I raised you to say hello when you answer the phone. People would think that you were raised with a pack of wolves. Connie Rosolli never says 'yeah' when I call the Bonds office. Is this because of the fight?"

Stephanie looked at her phone, then answered, "What fight?"

The fight that you had with Joe at Pino's."

"That just happened. How do you-, how could you know about that already?"

"Betty Iccovangleo and her daughter, Sally-. You know Sally. She graduated with you. She married Sammy Nortangelo, the electrician. Well, Betty was having dinner with Sally, Sammy and their three boys and they heard the whole thing. Naturally, Betty was concerned and called."

Yeah, you and the rest of the burg, thought Stephanie. "That Betty, what a gal, always thinking of others."

"She's nice like that. She didn't want me to be embarrassed when I go to Giovichinni's because you're the talk of the burg."

Stephanie clunked her forehead on the steering wheel. "Yes, mom."

"Anywho, I'm guessing you're hungry since you didn't eat any of your pizza."

Stephanie looked at her phone again and rolled her eyes.

"Come to dinner. It's nearly six. You'll be late, but I'm not going to hold up dinner. I don't want to make your father wait for his dinner. You know how he gets."

"I know, mom. What are you having?"

"Meatloaf. Mashed potatoes."

"That's okay. I'm fine."

"There's pineapple upside down cake for dessert."

Stephanie shrugged. Her mother had played her trump card, pineapple upside down cake. "I'll be right over."

"Good. I'll make up a plate for you. I'll put in the oven to keep it warm, but I can't guarantee that the meat won't dry out."

oOoOoOo

Stephanie slid into her seat at her parents' dining room table. It was a few minutes past six and the family was busy at work, eating dinner. Stephanie had driven to her parents in record time. The traffic was light and she slid through a few yellow lights. Her modus operandi was to get to her parents fast, eat fast and go home.

Her father paused for a second, fork loaded with meatloaf and mashed potatoes pointed towards waiting mouth, when she sat adjacent to him. "Stephanie."

"Dad."

Her mother nodded hello and went to the kitchen to get Stephanie's plate from the oven. Helen Plum cooked the same dishes year round. There were no summer or winter recipes in Helen's kitchen. She cooked the food that her husband liked. If stewing meat was on sale in the middle of a hot humid Jersey summer, she made beef stew because it was one of Frank's favorites. Her menus followed Frank's taste and the specials at the grocery store. Helen turned on her oven or ignited the stovetop burners at least twice a day.

Stephanie was glad that her parents had central air conditioning installed. The house was small, compact, and with four people around the table and the oven on, it was close, even with the air conditioning blasting.

Helen placed Stephanie's plate in front of her. "Here." Helen looked at her watch. "It's six o eight. If the meatloaf's dry, don't blame me. It's been in the oven forever." Helen returned to her place at the table.

Stephanie took a bite of the meatloaf. "It's fine."

"Is it dry? It could be dry from being in the oven so long."

"Not dry. It's just right."

Grandma Mazur said, "So, you had a big argument with Joe at Pino's."

"No."

"That's not what Betty Iccovangleo said. She said you had a big fight with Joe at Pino's."

"It wasn't a fight. It was a discussion."

"Must have been some discussion," said Grandma Mazur. "Betty said that she could hear what you two were saying, because you were yelling at each other."

"We weren't yelling. We were talking. Okay, maybe we got a bit loud. But we weren't yelling," said Stephanie. "Definitely not yelling."

Grandma Mazur pursed her lips. "Betty said that you said, 'I blame you for everything. I blame you for choo choo. I blame you for selling my cannoli to you at the Tasty Pastry. I blame you for ruining my shower curtain. And I blame you for cheating on me with Terry Gilman.'"

"Dear Lord," said Helen.

Frank stopped eating. "Choo choo? Cannoli? What the hell does that mean?"

"Nothing, Frank," said Helen.

"Mom's right. It's nothing."

"Then why bring it up? When we argue," said Frank motioning to Helen and himself, "your mother remembers every single thing she thinks I did wrong and blames me for it."

Helen huffed, "Frank. Not in front of Stephanie."

"Why not in front of me? I remember you two having arguments like that."

Helen pressed her lips tightly together until they formed a straight line.

"So what's with choo choo and cannoli?" asked Frank.

"Forget I said anything," snapped Grandma Mazur, "I'm zipping my lip." Grandma Mazur mimed that she was locking her mouth with a key and tossing the key away.

"Too late. I heard it. Now I want to know."

"Frank."

"Stephanie, talk."

"Daddy."

"Stephanie, talk or no dessert."

"Frank, you can't do that."

Frank pointed his fork at this wife. "Yes, I can. Stephanie, talk."

Stephanie explained everything to her father in the most sanitized and least graphic way possible. Her father gulped a few times as Stephanie told her tales.

oOoOoOo

Frank said, "This has been going on since you were five?"

Stephanie gulped.

Frank looked at his wife and pointed his fork at her. "Helen, you knew about this?" he wheezed.

"Frank, I-I-I-"

"Helen, did you know about this?" Frank repeated as he caught his breath.

Helen stared at her husband.

"Helen. Helen! What did you know?"

"I knew about the garage incident."

"You knew what that rotten son of a bitch-" Frank put his left arm out and clenched and unclenched his fist.

"Frank! Language. We're at the dinner table."

"Dinner table, schminner table. I repeat, you knew what that rotten son of a bitch did to our daughter and you didn't tell me?"

"Mrs. Herrell told me that she saw Stephanie go into the Morelli's garage with Joe. But that's all I know."

"Helen!" said Frank.

"And when Stephanie came home that day, her panties were inside out."

Frank slapped his hands on the table. Everything wobbled. He stood up and put his hands on the table, causing it to tilt towards him. He leaned forward, towards Helen. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Helen squared her shoulders and sat erect. "Because of this. I knew you'd act like this."

"Daddy," said Stephanie, "it wasn't a big deal. It was just a game."

"Just a game! What's with you?"

"Now, Frank, calm down. You'll have a heart attack or a stroke."

"Calm down. Calm down. I don't think so. Helen, you let that rat bastard in our house. He ate our food. How many times? Too many." Frank retook his seat. He curled both hands into fists and put them on the table. "Helen, he never comes into this house again. Never or so help me God, I'll-"

"Frank. really!"

"Helen. Really." Frank gasped. He rubbed his chest.

"Helen," said Grandma Mazur. "I agree with Frank." Every one stared at her for a few beats. Grandma Mazur never agreed with Frank, even when she did. She liked goading him. "If I had known about the choo choo thing, I'd have shot Joe in the gumpy." She made a pistol with her hand and waved it about. "Hell, I might still shoot him." Grandma aimed her gun and squeezed the trigger. "Pow! Right in the gumpy." She blew the smoke off the muzzle of her gun and put it away.

Stephanie looked at the ceiling. Helen aligned her wine glass with her water glass.

Frank shook his head and rubbed his chest again. "Stephanie," said her father. "What's with you? You like the way he treats you? You didn't take crap from that ass, Dickie Orr. Why take it from Morelli? What's the matter with you?"

Stephanie stuttered a response.

"Stephanie," Frank continued, his breathing labored, "if he treats you like that now . . . I don't see it getting better."

"Frank, do you want her to be single, alone, for the rest of her days? At least Joe's interested," said Helen.

"Mom, I'm here. I can hear you."

"Helen, better single than with a man like that," replied Frank as he gasped for air. "Helen, Stephanie, someone call nine-one-one. I'm having a heart attack."

Chapter 19

The ambulance pulled up in front of the Plum's duplex within fifteen minutes of Stephanie's call to nine-one-one. Grandma Mazur was standing on the front stoop when the paramedics arrived and she ushered them into the house. Frank was on the dining room floor, where Helen was frantically trying to keep him calm. The paramedics pushed Helen out of the way and worked on Frank. After the assessment was made and dispatches were sent, the paramedics put Frank Plum on a gurney and rolled him out to street where the neighbors were gathered to express their worry, gawk and gather intelligence for the grapevine.

It had been a busy few weeks for the Plum edition of the grapevine, first there was Joe Morelli, Stephanie's boyfriend playing hanky-panky with Terry Gilman, then Stephanie and Joe's argument at Pino's and now, this. Obviously, the neighbors thought, it all got to Frank Plum and it killed him or at least gave him a heart attack.

Frank was packed into the ambulance and taken to the emergency room at St. Francis. Helen and her mother followed the ambulance in Helen's Buick. Stephanie completed the motorcade in her Escape.

oOoOoOo

The emergency room waiting area bustled with activity. It was unusually busy for an early Saturday evening, but it was summer and hot, and that brought folks into emergency rooms with all manner of maladies from sunburn to sunstroke. People with various ailments and minor injuries waited anxiously to be seen by a doctor. Other people waited, also anxiously, to hear the prognosis of a loved one who was being seen by a doctor. Nurses and staff members buzzed between the waiting area and the emergency room.

Helen Plum sat in the waiting room with her mother beside her. Stephanie was on her mobile phone telling Valerie to get to St. Francis, pronto.

Helen moaned, "Oh my God" over and over, as she rummaged through her purse.

Grandma Mazur pulled a handkerchief out of her pocketbook and handed it to Helen. "Reminds me of when your father had his heart attack. The ambulance brought him here and he never left. He went just like that. No warning. Nothing. One day I was a housewife, the next, a widow."

"Oh my God," said Helen as she took the handkerchief rom her mother and dabbed her leaking eyes. "Frank's too young to die. Dad was old when he had his heart attack."

"Not that old. He still had some fire in his furnace," said Grandma Mazur. "I sure do miss him some days."

"Mother."

"Don't mother me. Your father was a good man, if you know what I mean." Grandma Mazur looked at Stephanie who was now sitting with them. "Does your mother know what I mean?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "I think so."

"And you, Stephanie," said Helen. "Are you happy? All that talk about Joe Morelli. You nearly killed your father. If he dies, I blame you." Helen crossed herself and quietly said, "Dear Lord, don't let him die."

The automatic doors of the emergency room slid open and Joe Morelli walked in. He looked around and then started toward them. "Speak of the devil," said Grandma Mazur as she pointed to Morelli.

Helen and Stephanie both looked at Joe and said in unison, "Oh my God, what is he doing here?"

Stephanie went to Joe. "What are you doing here," she hissed.

"Cupcake."

Stephanie pulled Joe aside. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard about your father."

"We just got here. How could you have heard about my father?"

"My mother called. One of your neighbors called her, and then she called me."

"Well guess what? I don't want you here."

"Don't be like that."

"I will be like that. This is a family matter and you're not family. Go away."

"But-"

"Go away." Stephanie extended her arm and pointed toward the exit.

"Okay, Cupcake, you don't have to tell me twice." Joe drew Stephanie near him and kissed her on the forehead.

"Go away and don't come back . . . ever. Yeesh!" After Joe left, Stephanie rubbed his kiss off her head.

oOoOoOo

Helen, Stephanie and Grandma Mazur waited for what seemed like hours and, was, in fact, a few hours. They had been joined by Valerie, Albert and the girls. Angie was perfect, Mary Alice neighed and pawed her hooves and Lisa, the baby, alternately cooed or snoozed. Albert had so annoyed Helen with his questions on the likelihood that Frank would need surgery and whether he could die on the table, that Valerie had to take him to the coffee shop for fear that her mother would strangle him.

In time, a cardiologist, who Helen thought looked like he was sixteen, maybe eighteen, tops, came out to talk to the family. He told them that Frank was in the intensive care unit. Frank had suffered a mild heart attack and was given a drug to thin the clot. The doctor also said that Frank might need angioplasty and that he was to stay in the hospital for a few days. After he explained the situation, the doctor permitted the family to go to visit the patient under the condition that the visit was short and that Frank remained calm.

The family hurriedly walked from the emergency room to the intensive care unit. When they got to the I.C.U., they were told that only two or three people go into visit at a time and that the visits had to be very brief.

Helen gathered the family around her. "Okay, Valerie and Mom, you two go in first. Valerie, give Lisa to Albert."

"Mom," said Valerie, "you should go in first."

"No, Valerie. Stephanie and I will go in last."

"Mom, I thought I'd go in with the Angie and Mary Alice."

"Stephanie, you're going in with me. That's how I want it. Then after Valerie and Mom, Albert will take the girls, except Lisa. Albert will hand Lisa off to Valerie. And then Stephanie and I will go in. Just say "hello", "I love you" and leave."

Albert said, "Do I have to say "I love you? I like Frank. I like him a great deal, but I don't think I love him."

"Albert," said Helen, "go in, say 'hello' and 'I love you' and leave. Got it?"

"Got it."

So Valerie, Grandma Mazur, Albert and the girls, in their turns, went to visit Frank. When it was Helen and Stephanie's turn, Helen squeezed her daughter's hand and whispered, "I'm not looking forward to this. I hope you're ashamed of yourself, nearly killing your father."

"Mom," Stephanie whispered back, "I did not."

"Did too. And we'll talk about that later." Helen put a smile on her face and entered the I.C.U. with Stephanie trailing behind.

Frank was looking ashen. There were wires and lines connecting him to monitors and an I.V. bottle. Helen went to her husband's bedside and gave him a kiss. Stephanie gave him a finger wave before going up to her father and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Frank. You certainly did give us a scare. The doctor says you'll be good as new. He just wants to keep you here a few days."

Frank rolled his eyes, something neither woman ever saw him do, something they thought he didn't know how to do. "Yeah, good as new. In time. Of course, Helen, things will have to change."

"Change? What things will have to change?"

"The kinds of food we eat. I'll have to exercise. You know, change."

Helen wiped her brow. "Change. Yes of course. Whatever that doctor says." Helen pushed Stephanie closer to her father. "Stephanie has something to say."

"Yeah. Daddy, I'm glad you're going to be as good as new."

"And?"

"And, I love you."

"And . . ." Stephanie gave her mom a quizzical look. "And Stephanie wants to apologize-"

"Apologize for what?" asked Stephanie.

"Apologize for what" asked Frank.

Helen looked at Frank and then at Stephanie. "For nearly killing you with that talk at the dinner table."

"Helen, Stephanie doesn't need to apologize."

"No? But she nearly—"

"No. You need to."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. For not telling me everything a father needs to know."

"Frank, I was just trying to—"

"Helen, go home. Go home before I have another heart attack."

As Helen and Stephanie were getting ready to leave, Frank said, "Stephanie, stay here for a moment, would you."

"Sure, Daddy."

Frank waited for Helen to leave the I.C.U., then motioned for Stephanie to come near. "Stephanie. Remember what I said about Joe Morelli. I meant every word."

"Sure, Daddy." Stephanie gave her father another kiss on the cheek and left the room.

oOoOoOo

When Stephanie got to her car in the hospital's parking lot, she saw a tall figure clad in black leaning against it. "Ranger."

"Babe."

"What are doing here?"

"Heard you father had a heart attack."

"How do you know that?"

"Babe."

"I know, I know. The same way you can get French fries from McDonald's before eleven in the morning."

"It pays to have connections."

"So, you're connected?"

"Very."

"Figures."

"Thought you might want to talk or cry."

"Or both."

"Or both."

"And you're here to help, I take it?"

"As always."

Stephanie smiled. As always. "Yeah, as always."

Chapter 20

Epilogue.

I'll allow you, dear reader, to create your own epilogue.