Disclaimer: Most characters belong to JE. I'm just borrowing them for a little hot action. If you see someone you don't recognize, he's mine. I'm not making any money from this, but I am having a blast. This chapter didn't come together like I'd hoped; wish I could blame it on my muse who has been on vacation.
'Explosive' sequel to Hooah: Ranger and Stephanie return to Trenton from Bolivia and try to adjust to their new relationship. Yes, a relationship! Things heat up fast when Ranger realizes he has competition for his Babe's attention.
End of Chapter 3
Lula had been admiring an oversized coffee mug with a brown teddy bear dressed in camouflage tucked in it and remarked, "This would be a cute gift for Tank, don't you think?" As she held it out to me, I noticed there were wisps of smoke coming from the stuffed bear.
Chapter 4—Boom Boom
I gingerly lifted the mug from Lula's hand and carefully set it on the counter, then screamed at both of them to get out of the store. The storeowner just looked at me blankly. I yelled, "There's a bomb in the bear!" and pulled her out from behind the counter toward the door. Lula's instinct for self-preservation had kicked in and she hadn't wasted any time. She was already halfway across Hamilton Avenue.
As the storeowner and I stepped off the curb, we heard the first explosion—Boom! Then another one—Boom! and another one, until I lost count. None of them were huge but together they made quite a racket. The front windows had blown out and white smoke was billowing skyward.
Three days, three explosive incidents. My secret admirer wasn't wasting any time, but his idea of courtship was a bit warped, almost childish. I flipped open my phone and called 911 and then Ranger. My heart was already beating normally. I was getting too used to this. Not a good sign.
Ranger answered on the first ring, "Yo, Babe." I paused, trying to think of a clever comeback, but my brain was frozen as I watched smoke pouring out of the shattered windows of the flower shop. There didn't seem to be much actual fire. Hmmmm.
The fire truck pulled up and the firemen started doing their thing. I realized Ranger was still on the phone, shouting at me by now. "Babe, what's going on? I hear sirens. Tell me you're OK. Please, tell me you're OK." He was either angry or a touch worried. I could deal with his anger, but not his worry. "I'm fine, Carlos. Not a scratch on me, the SUV's fine, Lula's fine, I'm fine," I tried to reassure him. I could hear him taking a deep breath as he got himself back under control.
"Another note?" That's my man—one, maybe two words. A grunt or a groan or a twitch at the corners of his mouth and he spoke volumes. "Yep, my third love missive," I told him. "He sent a Firecracker plant to me at Vinnie's. While Lula and I were checking out the flower shop it came from, I found a bear bomb. We all got out of the store before it exploded. There were several small explosions after the first one. There's some damage to the shop, but the bombs seemed to be intended to smoke, not burn the place down."
"A bear bomb, Babe?" "Well, a bomb in a teddy bear," I clarified. "I'll have Zero and Chris meet me at the site to see if they can get anything from the note or the bombs. Hang tight, Babe." Ranger was at least saying bye at the end of phone conversations now. That's progress, right?
I walked the storeowner across the street so she could confirm to the firemen there wasn't anyone left inside. The police showed up and we all gave our statements.
Ranger drove up just as we finished. He walked over and pulled me into a tight embrace, not saying a word. He looked into my eyes searching for something. Then he kissed me. Not a light kiss, but not a passionate one either. I could tell he was really worried.
I was afraid he was feeling the same fear for me he had when I was kidnapped and beaten by that gang nearly a year and a half ago. That devastating period when Ranger walked out of my life to protect me, to remove himself from the pain and worry I created in his life. I didn't think I could survive another rejection like that.
This 'B-squared' stalker had to be found and stopped soon. He was jeopardizing everything Ranger and I had worked so hard to build over the past four months. I needed ice cream and I needed some time in my thinking position.
0o0o0o0o0o0o
Tantalizing smells woke me from my nap…um…deep thinking. I wandered out to the kitchen and found Ranger setting the table while Ella unloaded the covered plates. Ella outdid herself for this elegant meal. Ranger and I started with a glass of red wine paired with crispy cheesy zucchini rounds that I would have sworn were fried, but Ella had said were baked and very health conscious. She even included a spicy tomato dipping sauce. I dipped the baked veggie into the sauce and leaned over to feed Ranger, dribbling a little dip down his chin. Of course, then I had to lick it off and give him a kiss. That earned me one of his oh, so rare smiles!
The entrée was a turkey parmigiana that tasted like it came from the finest restaurant in Italy, but was low in fat and calories. I didn't even mind that there wasn't any pasta. The bread was whole grain, yet so crispy on the outside with a moist and chewy interior. The asparagus spears were roasted and drizzled with a sweet dark glaze. Yum...I can't believe I could say that about vegetables! I think I'll save this glaze for later tonight. I can think of another yummy spear I'd like to lick that glaze off of. Ranger started laughing. Crap! I must have said that out loud.
I moaned my entire way through dinner, wondering why Ranger kept staring at me. I kept dabbing my face with my napkin thinking I had sauce smeared, but no, I was good.
Ella had been trying so hard to please my taste buds and my craving for fats and sugar, but wanted to meet Ranger's demand for healthy food. She was succeeding in spades. Dessert was a fruit sorbet that was creamy without the cream; there was a dark chocolate mint cookie perched on the side. I licked my lips in anticipation. Ranger reached over and took my hand, kissing my palm as he stared into my eyes. "Babe, eating a meal with you is like foreplay." I was getting decidedly warm.
I was so relaxed after dinner that I forgot all about my crazy stalker. I'd hoped Ranger could put it aside for a while as well. This evening felt so normal, so good…so different from being stalked and having to run from exploding bombs.
As we drank another glass of wine, I put on some music and asked Ranger to dance. I got the second smile from him this evening. He took me in his arms and masterfully glided me across the floor, twisting and twirling. The music changed tempo and so did our hip movements. I'd never danced with a man who could move his hips as seductively as Ranger. Our connection while dancing bode well for a closer bonding as we moved the evening into the bedroom.
As much as I loved working with Ranger, playing with Ranger was even better. And tonight I was going to play hardball, so to speak. Well, something was going to be hard and there were balls involved. I just hoped Ranger would take his sweet time getting to first base, then second base, then third, and start the wave now, a triple home run. And that would just be the first inning!
0o0o0o0o0o0o
The next morning Ranger called an all-staff meeting. The various RangeMan specialists reported on their findings and conversations with the police and fire departments regarding my little 'incidents.' The fireworks from the second incident were all commercially produced and commonly available throughout the United States. The bombs that exploded in the flower shop were all small homemade devices, more smoke than fire.
No one was any closer to discovering the identity of my stalker than they were the first day. Ranger was edgy and barking at everyone, even me.
Exhaustive searches had been run on my missing FTA, David Kent. He was 42, self-employed, recently divorced, no kids, and no close family. A few years ago he had checked himself into a rehab clinic for heroin addiction. It seemed he was clean. And he was nowhere to be found. Nothing in his background indicated any knowledge about explosives. His ex-wife described him as a nice guy, but weak when it came to drugs and alcohol.
Ranger began the meeting wrap up. "We have no leads on Steph's stalker and that is not acceptable. We need to dig deeper and harder." From the back of the room, Lester piped up, "That's what she said." I thought Ranger was going to come unglued. He started toward Les, but Tank stood up in his way, 'innocently' shuffling papers. Ranger walked stiffly back to his chair, fists clenching and unclenching. Where was my 'always in control' Ranger?
"This guy is setting off some kind of explosive everyday," Ranger continued in a hard voice. "He's just playing games right now, but that'll get old soon and he'll raise the stakes. We need to step up our game plan in anticipation." His eyes cut to me. "There will be at least one of us with Stephanie at all times, night and day. All places will be cleared before she enters, including restrooms and her vehicles. Do I make myself clear?" All the men at the table shouted "Hooah."
I stared at Ranger for a minute debating how to respond and saw a burning look of barely suppressed anger in his eyes. I knew it wasn't directed at me, but I still resented being ordered to accept his tight control over my life, even if he was doing it for the right reason.
I nodded and then said "Yes, Boss, quite clear." A pained looked shot across his face at my use of the word 'Boss' then he cleared all expression from his face. I was getting angry with this bombing lunatic. He was really starting to disrupt my life, as well as the lives of those around me. My stomach was cramping up. I needed a doughnut or better yet some birthday cake.
My partner for the day was Chris, since he was the one who could most easily ferret out any potential bombs left for me. We didn't leave RangeMan until well after lunch. I made the usual stop by the bonds office to pick up any new skips. Chris went in first and searched all rooms, even Vinnie's office. Connie was flying solo. Lula was taking the day off due to her 'traumatic' event yesterday and Vinnie was off in search of a little afternoon delight.
There was just one new FTA for me to work on. I read the file. Quentin Bartlett was a fifth grade school teacher who hadn't show up for his court date regarding a solicitation charge. According to Connie, he didn't currently have a place of residence. It seemed he bounced around from friend to friend crashing on sofas.
Great! I was going to have to cuff a teacher in front of his students. What a life lesson for a bunch of 10-year olds. At least this skip should be bomb-free, since B-squared didn't seem like the type to put innocent children in harm's way.
I walked out to the SUV and climbed in the passenger side. I was letting Chris drive so he could learn firsthand the gritty streets of Trenton. Chris slid into the driver's seat and queried, "Where to, Steph?" I gave him Quentin's file and after perusing its contents, Chris started the car. Well, he tried to start the car, but it was dead. Of course, today couldn't go smooth. Chris got out and looked under the hood, but couldn't find anything wrong. We weren't going anywhere soon.
I called RangeMan to report and Woody told me they had just received a tip that something involving the stalker was going down at a local school and Ranger had dispatched all available men to the location. So I was to sit tight and wait it out.
I was ready to run in and ask Connie if I could borrow her car when I saw a familiar yellow bus come down the street. Chris took matters into his own hands and waved down the old school bus. When the doors whooshed open, Sally Sweet grinned down at us, "Howdy, Stephanie. Howdy, Dude. Haven't seen you in months, Steph. I'm on my way to pick up my kiddies. Why did you flag me down?"
"Thanks for stopping, Sally. We're in desperate need of a lift. Can you take me and my co-worker, Chris, to this address?" I stepped up into the bus and handed Sally the address to the school where Woody said Ranger had gone, and 'coincidentally' was the same school where my FTA worked. My spidey sense was sparking off big time.
Chris was standing so close behind me I could feel his hot breath on my neck. I hadn't given him a chance to 'clear' the bus for me and he looked anxious.
Sally smiled at me and said, "Fuck, girl, that's my regular pick up. Come on in and take a seat." Sally closed the doors, started the bus up and headed off east on Hamilton. Chris was on his cell phone, calling Ranger and Woody with an update on our vehicular situation, especially since we were now in a vehicle without a GPS tracker. Ranger wouldn't be pleased when I showed up to his stakeout in a big yellow bus, but I wasn't about to be left out.
As Sally made a wide left turn onto Olden Avenue a small tape recorder slid out from under his seat. I picked it up and handed it to Sally. He looked puzzled, "Where did that fucking thing come from?" There was a small white card taped to the top of the recorder. It had a name scrawled on it—Stephanie, play me!
Chris grabbed the recorder out of my hands and went over it carefully, looking for anything that could explode. He finally shrugged and handed it back to me. I pushed play. The first notes of a hard rock beat began.
Sally startled me, "Fuck, dude! That's my new fucking single. My band just started playing that song at gigs last week." We all listened closely as the first verse came through loud and clear sung by none other than Sally himself.
Can't stay away
Not even a day,
Like a moth to a flame
Your hot love's to blame.
As the first stanza faded out, a new voice, a younger man's voice, started singing to the same tune—different lyrics.
Take the Sweet bus to ride
And don't let it collide,
Get off before State, please don't be late
Or Steph, you will fly, high into the sky.
Hope you enjoy
Our attempt to be coy,
Can you guess we really like you?
We hope you like us, too.
We offer you our heart
It's been shot with Cupid's dart,
It's not just a rumor
We're Bomber and Boomer.
The tape went silent. Sally was still rocking and rolling to the beat, oblivious to the words or the frightened look on my face. I glanced back at Chris who looked just as confused as I did. Awareness dawned finally in my befuddled brain. I flung the tape recorder to the seat and grabbed Sally's arm, "State Street is just up ahead. Sally, stop the bus now and open the doors."
Sally gave me a puzzled look and said, "But we're only a block or two from the school. Let me turn onto State and we can stop in the fucking school turnaround lane." Panicking, I screamed, "Fuck no, Sally, stop NOW. There's a fucking bomb on the bus and it's going to fucking blow up when we get to State. STOP NOW!" 'Sometimes you have to speak your audience's language if you want to get through to them.'
I was frantically trying to put my foot on the brake over Sally's large boots. State Street was now less than a hundred feet away. The bus was slowing down, but we weren't going to stop in time.
