Disclaimer: The characters are property of Janet Evanovich and I am not making any money from this story. The story line is mine.

Warning: Angst

Finding Yesterday

By, Elissahara30

Prologue: The Middle

My name is Stephanie Plum and I am a daughter, a granddaughter, a friend and a lover. Sometimes I can make a convincing Bounty Hunter, other times I'm an embarrassment and laughing stock of Trenton, New Jersey. Then there are times when I am more, when I feel that the world has possibilities and I can achieve it if only I believed in myself and trust in my innate abilities. When I feel that maybe, just maybe I can fly. Then there is today, where I am none of those things, I am just lost.

The day was cold and the leaves had turned from brilliant fall to dead brown. All that was left was the skeletal remains of trees in the fog covered gray. The grass under my feet was brittle from the frost; I could hear the slight crunch with each step. The air contained the decaying smell of damp and mold, but I ignored it as I walked on. I kept my head down, hiding myself from the sympatric looks around me; I don't think I could bare it today.

The white canopied area was large and the gathering impressive. Off to the right was the Honor Guard, and to the left was the family sitting in the white chairs and behind them was the wall of black standing at attention offering their respect. I couldn't stand it, and I desperately wanted to run away. I hugged myself and stood away from the proceeding not allowing myself to go further. I know the emotions I was feeling was not unique to me, countless others have felt them at least once their life.

I didn't want to see the casket with the American flag adorning it; I just refused to believe it was over. Not someone who had the force of personality that he possessed, that a man, who filled a room with quite confidence, could just be gone. He was not dead, and no matter what anyone said to me, I will never believe it.

I resisted the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes; I will save them for the day he comes home. I listened to the bugle song that broke the quite somber air, its lament tying to push me over the edge. Then I jumped as the Honor Guard's riffles shattered the peace with its loud pops. Then I watched as two soldiers folded the flag and handed it to the grieving mother. My hands trembled with suppressed emotion and I finally turned away. As I exited the cemetary and walked to my car I pulled out my cell phone and dialed a number I had tried hard not to use.

"Hello," a deep voice resonated over the line.

"I'm in," I said calmly.

"Once you're in chickie there is no turning back," the voice cautioned.

I looked at the cemetery behind me and watched the as the assembled people headed back to their vehicles to leave and knew I had no other option. "When do we leave?"

"Palo will be by in two hours, are you sure they don't suspect?"

I looked over and noticed that Morelli was watching me and I returned his intense gaze with one of my own, an anger simmering in my belly as I thought about his refusal to help. "No, I have everything covered," I said with a confidence I really didn't feel.

"Good," And the line went dead.

I shut my phone with a decided snap and took in a deep breath. I will either succeed or die trying, and strangely I was okay with that decision. I looked back one more time, with my thoughts on a person everyone believed dead. I turned my back and opened the car door and drove off.

On a grave stone several feet away these words were displayed:

Ricardo Carlos Manoso

"Ranger"

August 1970 – November 2004

Here lies a son, a father, a friend

My Hero

In

Everything

A/N: And so here I go again with another story, this is one that I have been thinking about for some time and it took me a while for me to piece it together. Thanks to everyone who offered help and ideas. You guys are the best!