I don't own them and I'm not making any money…

Thank you all for reading and thanks for all the reviews, please enjoy!

Catch a Falling Star

Chapter 3

The next morning, I was forced from bed at an ungodly hour for a meeting with the Rangemen who had been working security and the NYPD. Currently, we were at the NYPD and I was slumped forward on the table as we waited for an investigating officer to retrieve a file.

"Gonna make it, Babe?" Ranger asked.

"No," I said.

After a delicious dinner, Tank had retrieved a couple beers from the fridge and the guys and I had settled in on the couch and chairs in the living room. They'd told stories about their time in the Army and joked around. I'd never been around them when they'd let their guard down like that and it had been a lot of fun to see their more relaxed sides.

Problem was, they could hold a lot more alcohol than me and could function on a lot less sleep. I was beat. I knew we were going over the case, but I wasn't taking anything in. At least this time it wasn't my fault that I couldn't pay attention. They'd just have to fill me in once we'd gone back to the safe house and I'd had a nap.

"Poor Babe," Ranger said, rubbing my back. The contact of his hand was sending tingles down my spine, but I was too tired to deal with Ranger confusion today. I can vaguely remember him putting me to bed last night and I vaguely remember kissing him. And from what I remember, I'm glad the memory is vague.

He'd just started drawing small circles on my back and I was nearing sleep when the lieutenant returned with the file. Damn, now I have to sit up and make the police think I'm paying attention. The guys knew me well enough that I knew I didn't stand a chance of fooling them.

An interminable amount of time later, Ranger stood and shook the lead detective's hand and the guys stood as well. Taking that as a sign that the meeting was finally over, I pulled myself from my chair, relieved to get out of there.

As soon as we climbed into the Bronco I was out like a light. This time on Bobby. Who knew Merry Men made such good pillows?

When I came to, I once again found Ranger lying beside me on the bed. I was pretty sure that I wasn't even here when I fell asleep this time.

"Ready to get up?" he asked.

"Not really," I responded, pulling a pillow over my head.

"You should get up anyway. I need to fill you in on the stuff you missed in the meeting."

"That wasn't my fault."

"I know. That's why I let you sleep."

"Thanks," I said, finally sitting up.

"You're gonna get up?" Ranger asked, giving me a look as he got off the bed.

"Yeah," I grumbled, standing also to prove it.

"Good. Meet me in the living room in five and I'll fill you in."

"Ten," I countered. Five minutes just wasn't enough time to fix myself up after a nap.

"Ten," Ranger agreed.

He left and I rushed into the bathroom to answer Mother Nature's call and tame my hair. Pulling my mass of curls up, I splashed some water on my face then freshened up my mascara. Fifteen minutes later I was headed for the kitchen.

"Babe," Ranger said when I plopped down at the table.

"The case," I said, not feeling like getting teased on my warped sense of time.

"Of course," Ranger replied with a half smile as he flipped open a file. "The major points hit in the meeting were the latest note Ms. Johnson received and the second body that was discovered yesterday. Even though there's no physical evidence yet, NYPD is assuming the woman to be another victim of Gerick. She was killed in the same manner as the first victim and bears the same resemblance to Ms. Johnson.

"Other than that, no leads have been found and Gerick appears to have dropped off the face of the Earth. And besides the notes received by Ms. Johnson and the victims resemblance to her, there is nothing to tie him to the crimes."

"Is that all?" I asked when he was done. That had taken maybe ten minutes and we were in the meeting for an hour.

"Pretty much. The meeting took so long because of all the nonsense from the cops and we had to go over the note and crime scene pictures. They're in your file and you can look at them later."

"Okay," I replied, thinking I'd skip the picture. The last one hadn't been very pleasant.

Looking at the clock on the stove, I saw it was only a little after one. We still had most of our day left and we hadn't really started in on the case at all. I felt like we should be doing something, since we had nothing to go on. I wondered what we would do from here, where we would start. It wasn't often that we had a case like this.

"You want to go meet Ms. Johnson, our target, and talk to her?" Ranger asked, reading my thoughts.

"Sure. That sounds like a good idea," I said. "Just let me go get ready."

"Babe," Ranger said in a mock exasperated voice.

"I'll be quick," I replied, laughing as I headed for my room.

In my room, I did get ready at top speed, knowing that if I didn't hurry Ranger would show up to encourage me to go faster. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a nobly sweater before shaking out my curls and adding another swipe of mascara. Grabbing a pair of boots with three inch heels, I ran from my room and skidded across the kitchen floor to stop right in front of Ranger.

"Good timing, Babe. I was coming in after you."

"I was like two minutes."

"You were pushing ten."

"Which is amazing for a Jersey girl," I felt the need to add.

"Remind me again why I brought you," Ranger laughed, wrapping a steadying arm around me as I wobbled pulling on my boots.

"Can't," I said. "I have no idea why you brought me." With that, I looked up at him, hoping he'd tell me. That was something I'd been wondering about… why I was along.

"Well, things have been slow lately," Ranger said, but didn't pause long enough for me to protest a pity job. "We have no leads and you have instincts that help you just stumble over the answers you need to figure out a case. On top of all that, people trust you and seem to just want to tell you what they know."

"Oh."

"Babe, you need to stop underestimating yourself. You're good. Do you really think I would bring you along if I didn't think you could be useful to the team?"

"I thought I was entertainment," I said, not looking at him as I wandered towards the closet in search of my coat.

"Stephanie," Ranger said, using my full name to get my attention. It worked, I stopped dead, but didn't turn around. I didn't think I could meet his eyes right now. "Please tell me you haven't been holding onto that comment since I said it."

I didn't say anything, just continued to stand frozen in the middle of the room. I jumped slightly when I felt him come up behind me and wrap his arms around me, but instinctively relaxed.

"It was a stupid thing to say, Babe. I'm sorry. I'm just not good with words. I wanted you to know how much you brighten up the job for the guys and me. They like you, and it's not often that that happens."

"Really?" I said, meaning all of what he'd said, not just the end.

"Yeah," he replied, dropping a kiss to my forehead. I knew he was talking about all of it too. "Now are you ready to go hunt down a bad guy?"

"Yeah," I said, giving him a quick squeeze before going back to getting my coat and grabbing his as well.

"Then let's go," he laughed, ushering us into the lift.

We took the lift to the parking garage of the apartment building and Ranger climbed into a shiny, black Mercedes that was parked by the Bronco. How that got there I have no idea, but Ranger has ways.

"Sorry I was so emotional," I said, as we motored out of the garage.

"Part of your charm, Babe," he said, shooting me a 200 Watt smile before slipping into his zone to concentrate on the New York traffic.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Half an hour later we were pulling into a parking garage for a high-rise office building.

"This doesn't look like a theater," I said.

"It's not. Ms. Johnson's office is in this building."

"Oh," was all I could say. It's not like I knew about this theater production stuff.

"She works for one of the larger production companies in New York and they own this office building," Ranger informed me.

"Okay, Mr. Know-it-all, lead the way," I grumbled.

"Babe, I just did some research," he said as we headed for the lift.

"Which I probably should have done too," I replied, feeling like I wasn't pulling my weight.

"Nope, that's my job. Your job is to get Ms. Johnson to talk to you and just be yourself."

"I can do that," I said smiling.

"I know," Ranger told me, pressing a kiss into my hair as the lift dinged open onto the fourth floor of the building.

Walking to the reception area, Ranger spoke with the secretary and was told we could see Ms. Johnson in about fifteen minutes. I was a bit skeptical about this since she didn't even check her appointment book, but stared transfixed at the medium wattage smile Ranger was giving her. I was also a bit unnerved at the sudden urge to zap her with my stun gun…

Settling for a good eye roll, I followed Ranger to take a seat in the waiting area. It looked like most other waiting rooms, but the walls had posters for plays the company must have produced all over them along with signed autographs from what I assumed were famous actors. I didn't see any names I recognized though.

Surprisingly, a little less than ten minutes later, we were being shown back to Ms. Johnson's office. It was back a short hallway, lined with more posters, but the office itself was very professional.

The woman we found behind the desk was also very professional, standing to greet us as we entered the office. She was about 5'4" and looked a lot like the pictures I had seen of her, but in business attire. I was impressed by how she had chosen a soft grey suit that didn't wash out her pale complexion or clash with her flaming red hair. She wasn't what I was expecting as an ex-actress.

"Hi, I'm Violet Johnson and you must be from Rangeman. Please have a seat," she said indicating chairs in front of her desk.

"Thank you and yes," Ranger said as we sat. "I'm Carlos Manoso and this is Stephanie Plum. We'll be working with the NYPD and we'd like to ask you some questions."

"Nice to meet you," she replied, taking Ranger's extended hand and then mine.

"Alright, Ms. Johnson," Ranger began.

"Please, call me Vi or Violet," she interrupted.

With a quick nod, Ranger went on, "Can you tell us when the threats actually began?"

"I'm not sure when I actually began to feel threatened," she said. "Dane auditioned for the play, and I had dinner with him a few times through the audition process since we were old acquaintances, but when he didn't get the part and wasn't seeing me, he started to get creepy."

"Umm," I interjected. "What do you actually do? You were doing auditions; does that mean you're like the director?" I wondered suddenly if he was angry with her for not casting him.

"No. I'm pretty much out of everything related to the actual acting. The only time I'm ever around the set is auditions, when the play is ready to go on and when there's a problem. For auditions, I'm the one in contact with the actors and in charge of lining up auditions, but the director makes the actual decisions."

"Oh. What else do you do?" I asked, genuinely curious now.

"Mostly, I line up shows, make sure we have a venue, organize everyone behind set design, costumes and all that. I'm also responsible for budgeting and advertisement. It was actually one of our ad reps, who's a friend of mine, who recommended Rangeman when we began having trouble," she said.

"Really?" asked Ranger, and if I didn't know better I'd say he was looking apprehensive.

"Yeah, Celia Lawrence. Do you know her?" she asked, causing me to swing me eyes to Ranger.

"She's my sister," Ranger admitted.

I was still curious about Ranger's sisters, and was extremely disappointed when I realized I'd missed the chance to meet then when he was in the hospital. I'd met his mother and father, who were wonderful people, but I was asleep in a chair the first time his sisters had come to visit and he'd apparently been very explicit about them not waking me. The other times they visited were the random moments I wasn't around, like when I'd gone home to get real sleep or shower. I'm pretty sure Ranger had one of the guys organizing it.

"You know, I see the resemblance now," Violet exclaimed.

"So Ceila recommended us," Ranger said, clearly wanting to get back on track. "When did you decide to take the recommendation and get security?"

"I took the recommendation when the harassment to the crew began. They were receiving weird packages, things would go missing, they went a week where they couldn't make it through a rehearsal without the fire alarm going off. Nothing dangerous, it was just holding up production. We always get security for our plays anyway once they open; I was just starting it a little early and stepping up the intensity."

"What about you?" I asked. "When did you go to the police if the creepiness was growing?"

"Umm, I sort of ignored it at first, since he was weird as a kid. When I got the note saying he'd found a replacement for me, but feared he'd have to kill her for being inferior, I took it to the police. They sort of brushed it off, though."

"And now?" I asked.

"They came and interviewed me and my crew and took the previous notes he sent when the first body was found."

"Previous notes?" Ranger asked. We didn't have any other notes before the first threat.

"Yeah, they were harmless mostly. Saying he never forgot me and he always hoped we could work together someday again since we had amazing chemistry. That sort of thing."

"Can you think of anything he said or did that could have given away where he's staying?" I asked. It was a long shot, but we really needed a lead.

"No, sorry. I couldn't help the police either. I don't know him well at all and hadn't seen him since we worked together years ago. When we went out to dinner it got very awkward, because at first we talked about the 'old days' but then he started to just stare at me. He never did tell me what he was into other than he was trying Broadway."

"Did he say anything about why he was trying Broadway and why he was here?" I asked.

"Not really, but I got the impression that he wasn't doing well in Hollywood and when this started I called some friends and found out he hasn't worked in years although he's been trying. He really seemed to want to work with me, thinking if we worked together he would become a star again."

"Did he always seem with it?"

"That was when he seemed most with it," she said, crinkling her brow a bit. "There were other times when he would seem to think we were childhood sweethearts or something. Like we had a relationship when we were working together. I think he may have been slipping in and out of reality, because sometimes when he got like that he would call me Libby. That was my character on Changing Places."

"Did you tell the police that?" Ranger asked.

"No," she said, looking thoughtful. "I didn't really remember until Stephanie asked if he was all with it."

"Was he reverting to the age he was when the show ended?" Ranger asked.

"No, he knew we were adults. It was almost like he took the show ending as another move that separated us and now we had met again. He would go on about what we'd made of our lives since we'd last seen each other and how amazing it was we were both pursuing careers in Broadway. Like it was fate."

"When did you see him last?" I asked.

"Ummm, at the last audition. He'd been making me uncomfortable for awhile, and when he didn't get the part I told him I probably wouldn't be able to see him since I would be really busy with the play. He seemed to take it okay. I got the first note about a replacement two days later."

"Thank you," I said then swung my eyes to Ranger. I couldn't think of anything else to ask today.

"Yes, thank you," Ranger agreed, standing so I flowed his lead.

"It was nice to meet you," Violet said, shaking our hands once again.

"It was nice to meet you also," I said, pulling out a card and jotting our numbers on it. "If you think of anything else, please give us a call."

"Of course," she agreed.

Exiting the office, Ranger slung an arm around my waist as he headed for the lift to go back to the parking garage.

"That went well," he said.

"What? We still have no leads as to where he could be."

"True, but now we know he's about as mentally stable as the usual psycho and you got Violet thinking. Good job, Babe."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

A/N: Please review! I love your feedback, so let me know how I'm doing with a story with a real plot!