Chapter Two

Tank was in the control room when he got back to Rangeman. He nodded to his friend. "I saw Steph's truck in the garage. When it wasn't in her parking lot tonight I just assumed it went boom."

"I confiscated it day before yesterday after she ditched her tracker at the mall and ended up in a one sided shootout with Damian Marquez."

Ranger raised an eyebrow, hiding the way his blood chilled. "And?"

"And she took him down like a screaming banshee when he ran out of ammo."

He fought a smile. God, she was incredible. She was also reckless. Could have gotten herself killed. Tank must have been following her too close. Steph hated anything that restricted her freedom, even if the restriction was implied. Which is why, as tempting as it was to keep her under guard, he knew he couldn't continue having her chauffeured. "Have Hector upgrade her GPS tracker and give her the truck back. And get a new one for her bag. Something discreet. Who was on her day shift?"

"Hal. She seems to like him. Lets him check her apartment without more than an eye roll. I figured that meant she was less likely to bolt. He even got invited into the Plum house for dinner."

This time Ranger couldn't hide his smile. He'd been there. Faced assassins that were less terrifying than dinner with the Plum family. "And?"

"The baby threw up on him."

Ranger let out a bark of laughter. Several guys turned to look at him in amazement. Probably assumed he wasn't capable of finding something funny.

"You want me to pull him back?" Tank asked. "She's had an eventful few days, but there haven't been any direct threats. Hal reported an incident yesterday involving one of her skips being high on PCP when they tried to take him down. Escaped custody and ended up taking a header off the second story of a parking garage. He's in Saint Francis. And Vincent Plum bonded out Marquez again after Stephanie took him down. He could be a problem."

The fact she might be pregnant was a bigger problem. He had an impulse to lock her down until they knew for certain one way or the other, but he knew that wasn't an option. Steph was fiercely independent. She'd resent him if he tried to hold her back like that. Especially since she would no doubt go into deep denial about her possible condition since the test was negative. "Double up, but give her her head. I don't want them to even look like they'll interfere unless they have to."

"We going dark?"

"No. I want her to know they're there. At least for the time being. Partner Hal with Ramon." He'd seen Steph hang out with those two before in the Rangeman lunch room. They were friends of sorts. The only men in his entire company she seemed to be comfortable with.

"Done. Anything else?"

"Yes. I want her treated like glass until further notice. Not so much as a trip and fall."

"That might be a tall order with Stephanie."

"I don't care. I see a bruise or a scrape or hear she tackled a skip, someone's getting fired. And I want that order to stay on down low. She's not to find out. Got it?"

Tank nodded. If he thought that was strange, he didn't say it. "Carson's waiting in your office."

Ranger acknowledged that. Might as well get this fucking shit show over with.

Jack Carson popped out of his seat when Ranger opened the door. His usually dickish expression even more severe. "What the fuck took you so long?"

Ranger raised an eyebrow at him. Gave him the long, feral stare. Carson swallowed. Remembered who he was dealing with. He always was a smart man. "What happened?"

"Cross and Hunter were transporting Alvarez to a safe house. He pulled some fucking stunt like he'd passed out and got Hunter's gun when he got too close. Shot Hunter in the leg and Cross twice in the chest. Ran away and left Cross to bleed out. I want that copkilling asshole back. Now."

Brilliant. Ranger hunted Alvarez for six days, backtracking and following markers while the clever bastard moved from one method of transit to another to try and keep him off balance. Sacrificing valuable time he could have been using to focus on other things he wanted. And the fucking FBI loses him in less than an hour. "Tell me you set up a perimeter."

"I'm not incompetent."

Again, Ranger didn't answer. Just held Carson's glare with a careful mask. Hiding the deep seated resentment he was trying not to feel. "Barring an escape route, his first instinct will be to go to ground. Start with his list of know associates—"

"No shit, Sherlock," Carson interrupted. "I didn't come to you because I needed you to hold my fucking hand, Manoso. I didn't want to be here at all. But the director trusts you to handle this shit without destroying the investigation we've spent the last three years and countless resources building."

"What the director trusts me to be is unconventional. Which is why I'm suggesting you use those nice shiny badges of yours to paint targets on his people. Make them untouchable. He's not going to them anyway, but it'll make enough of a statement that anyone else he might go to will think twice. He'll have to get creative to find safe harbor, and creative can lead to mistakes."

Carson's glare didn't waver. Despite the fact Ranger could see he was failing to find fault with that logic. "We tried covering his friends and family before. He still got away."

"But this time you have me and my resources before he's slipped the grid. I've got ears places you don't. If he crosses the boundaries, I'll know about it."

The intercom buzzed. Control room. Ranger picked up the handset. Ram started speaking as soon as the line opened. "Sir, I've got an Agent Pritchard on the line, from the DEA. He wanted to talk to you about Alvarez."

Of course he did.

Question is whether it was because of his history tracking Alvarez or because someone heard the FBI had been in touch.

"Put him through." The line clicked with the transfer. Ranger heard it when the new connection opened. He listened for a second. Evaluating the silence on the other line. "Talk."

The silence snapped to attention. "Mr. Manoso?" Ranger didn't verify. But he didn't correct him either. The guy pushed on. "My name is Grant Pritchard. I'm with the DEA. I was hoping I could make an appointment to speak with you regarding an FBI asset named Juan Alvarez. I believe you're familiar with him?"

Answers that question. "We've crossed paths."

"Yes. Which is why I was hoping you might have some insight. I heard he escaped FBI custody."

Ranger didn't bother giving him the can neither confirm nor deny statement. Grant Pritchard seemed to read it anyway.

"We'd like very much to recapture him," Pritchard went on. "He has a lot of valuable information about who's moving what in and out of Trenton. We're hoping he can help us trace what's causing a spike in drug related deaths so we can shut it down. I've got four victims in the last few weeks. Those are just the ones I can prove. And they weren't ODs. Something out there is killing people."

Carson was getting impatient again. Shifting on his feet. Ranger leaned back in his chair. Last thing he needed was for this to turn into a pissing contest over jurisdiction between the FBI and the DEA. But if Pritchard was right, there was even more at stake than they realized. Shit. Like this could get any worse. "My office. One o'clock." And then he hung up. Carson was watching him. "The DEA is expressing interest in your asset."

"Fuck. Trenton PD's been knocking on our doors for months trying to get a piece of him over some unsolved homicides. Now it's the fucking DEA. Like the intel we give them isn't good enough. You sure as shit better understand that if you catch Alvarez, you turn him over to me. He ends up with some DEA prick and we've got problems."

Ranger gave him the cold stare again. "You don't want problems with me, Jack. And you know it. You want my help, we do this my way."

It was clear from the distaste on Jack Carson's face that he wasn't happy with that. Good thing for him, he was smart enough not to argue.

Ranger called his resources after Carson left. Set up a perimeter of his own. If Alvarez set foot in public, or tried to leave Trenton, Ranger would hear about it. Then he paid a visit to Damian 'Skeezer' Marquez. He let himself into the rat's nest Skeezer was calling home. Stepped over the cronies that were passed out on the floor. Skeezer was alone in the back bedroom. Ranger caught his throat and ripped him off the bed, slamming his back into the floor. Skeezer grunted and cursed.

"Good. You're awake."

"Fuck!"

"Yeah," Ranger said, squeezing just enough to cause dread. Ignoring the hands that were tearing at his wrist. "I hear you have a problem with an associate of mine. Stephanie Plum."

"The bitch bounty hunter?"

Ranger's grip tightened until he heard a guttural choke. Non-verbal for watched your tone. "You don't want a problem with me, Damian. And you should know by now that if you have a problem with one of my people, that's exactly what you'll get."

"She's not your people."

"I say she is. Stephanie Plum is off limits to you and yours. Am I making myself clear? She's so much as bruised on your orders and I'll rain hellfire down on your head the likes of which you've never seen."

Skeezer swallowed against Ranger's grip. Impression made. Skeezer liked to play at being a big scary kingpin, but he was chickenshit at heart. And he knew well from past conversations that Ranger was not only a man of his word, he had the means to tear Skeezer's life down around his ears. Ranger struck him hard for emphasis and let him go. Stood over him for a long moment before he turned his back and walked out of the room.

o o o

Ranger spent the next few hours making house calls. Rousting Alvarez's friends from their beds in the early morning hours. Nothing. Not that Ranger had expected anything to turn up. Not this fast. He was just applying pressure. Creating an environment he could control. Alvarez was likely passed out in a hole somewhere. Unaware that his world was getting smaller by the minute. But the moment he surfaced, needed resources, he'd find out his ocean was suddenly a kiddie pool.

Ranger was spent by mid morning. Went back to Rangeman to crash for a few hours and grab some proper nutrition. Take a real shower before his meeting. Not only would he have to field the DEA, Jack Carson was showing up too. Must have realized playing nice was his only option.

Ranger came awake easily when his alarm chirped at noon. Solid four hours. Most people would probably be groggy, but that was all it really took for Ranger to feel good as new. Maybe there was something to this not being human thing.

He made coffee while he read the updated reports. Caffeine didn't really affect his body chemistry that all much. It was just a comforting habit. A simple pleasure at the beginning of the day that let him focus and take a breath. There hadn't been much need or opportunity for that either while he was on the road. Sometimes it was easy to take the well maintained life he'd made for himself here for granted. None of it was necessary, and Ranger knew all too well that there was a difference between a pleasure and a need, but it was nice to be at a point in his life that allowed for both.

He scrolled through the reports from Tank. Nothing new on Alvarez. Not surprising. A minor problem involving one of the Rangeman accounts. Resolved. A notification from Hal. Stephanie was on the move. Headed to the bond's office.

A tangible energy moved through his body.

Shit.

Of all the things that could fall out of the karmic fuck you pile, he'd never expected that one. It was fine when bad shit happened to him. It was something else to have it affect someone he cared about. And being forced to leave last night after what went down definitely affected them both. He'd need a good, solid reason to call her in now to stand a chance at pushing through the awkwardness. No way in hell would she face him without it.

He strolled through the rest of the reports. No mention of her hospitalized skip or his condition. He made a call. It wasn't good news. Avery Jessup was admitted with two broken legs, a dislocated wrist, head trauma, and a gunshot wound in the left shoulder. From Hal's report, Ranger knew the wrist was self inflicted. Pulled out of place when he broke Steph's cuffs. The bullet was Lula's doing. The rest was from the second story dive. But none of it had mattered in the end. Avery Jessup's death was marked as drug related. Not overdose. Whatever shit he'd been on had depressed his breathing. Slowed his heart until not enough oxygen was getting to his brain and it stopped working. Sounded a little too much like the drug Agent Pritchard had been talking about.

Damn. That was more than an excuse to call her in. That was a warning sign she was already a part of this. Steph was a magnet for disaster. And she had the investigative instincts of a terrier on a scent. She didn't know it yet, but she might already be wandering dangerously close to the edge of the viper's nest.

He sent her a text. My office. 2pm.

This could go either way. Assuming she showed. Which, given her expression last night, wasn't all that likely. Better hedge his bets. He called Ramon.

"Yeah boss?"

"I need you to see Stephanie makes a meeting in my office at 2pm this afternoon."

"You got it. She's after a skip right now. Looks like an easy pick up."

"How's her attitude?"

"Pissy. Don't think she likes that we're following her."

"Keep on her, but stay distant unless she needs assistance."

"I know. Like glass, right? We're on it, boss."

Ranger disconnected. He couldn't keep this up. Not only was he bleeding money by putting two men on her, he was pushing buttons that were better left untouched. Steph hated the babysitting, and she'd already been at it a week while he was in the wind. To the point she'd given them the slip and ended up facing off with the head of one of Trenton's ugliest street gangs.

What he really needed was to bring her into his investigation. Make use of her talents and her insight in a way that would let him keep an eye on her. And then hell would freeze over. Because that was about as likely as Steph partnering with him after he might have knocked her up.

Fuck.