Chapter 4
Kill him.
***
"You should have seen her," Lester said, "sashaying in there in that flirty little skirt, Wonderbra boobs and three inch heels pouting at the bartender and whining about her Bugatti's engine trouble." He shifted his voice into a high-pitched imitation of Steph's. "It had the nerve to die just around the corner."
Bobby was laughing as he chipped in, "Skinny Becker never had a chance. His two favorite things -- a beautiful woman and an exotic car right there for the taking until Cal and Junior crashed his party."
Steph was blushing; she rolled her eyes, a very good sign. "Oh, come on. It was no big deal."
She was right, it was no big deal, an ordinary job, but the guys were glad to have her back and we were having a classic RangeMan celebration -- beer and pizza at Shorty's -- although after one slice of pepperoni, Steph was inexplicably eating salad. Not one of Shorty's finer offerings.
"So, Cal," Lester continued, "you want to tell us how Skinny broke his hand?"
Junior put in his two cents, "Son of a bitch pinched the Bombshell."
"Omigod," Steph squealed, "you broke his hand because he pinched my ass?"
Cal mumbled into his beer, "Was only a coupla fingers. Fucker got off easy, Ranger would've ripped his arm off."
She grew solemn at the mention of Ranger's name. "He's always been sort of overprotective, hasn't he?"
"You could say that," I said. I knew we were all thinking about Abruzzi. Ranger had made dead sure that scumbag would never hurt her again.
She leaned forward resting her elbows on the table and looking at each one of us in turn. "Tell me about him. Please. You all worked with him "in the wind." What's he like out there?"
"He's the best," Cal stated. "None to match him."
Lester contributed, "If I'm in a tight spot, I can't think of anyone I'd rather have beside me than Ranger. He's calm and organized and smart."
I added, "Every one of us owes our life to him,"
Bobby looked thoughtful. He said, "It's not just that, he's what a leader ought to be; he takes care of his men. The work we do -- it has hard stuff in it. If the job required ugly, Ranger did it himself, he didn't farm it out. I know there were times he lost sleep over things he had to do, but he made sure we didn't."
We all murmured our agreement.
"Look at what he's done with RangeMan," I said. "We're not exactly 9 to 5 er's -- you know what I mean. Imagine Cal there pushin' papers all day. He wouldn't even fit in the chair, besides scarin' the customers. You seen our resumes? Not many places lookin' for someone can slit a throat in ten seconds or dismantle an AK-47. At RangeMan our skills are legitimate. We still can do what we're good at and are a lot less likely to land in prison.
"You're not afraid he's going to send you to Myanmar or Somalia for screwing up?"
I asked the guys, "You know of anyone actually bein' sent to one of those places cause he fucked up?"
A general consensus, "Nope."
Lester raised his glass, quietly he said, "To Ranger."
"To Ranger," we all chorused.
I glanced at Steph. She was losing it. Her lip quivered and she was blinking hard but she covered well. "Got to go to the ladies', guys. Let me out."
She was three quarters of the way across the room before I saw the tall familiar figure moving to cut her off. Morelli. Damn. Why hadn't I noticed him before. Their final parting hadn't been friendly and she sure as hell didn't need his crap now.
I didn't get there quite in time. He was nasty drunk and I could hear him from halfway across the room.
"Well, Cupcake, look at you."
She hadn't seen him coming, "Joe!" Her voice rang with alarm.
"Word on the street is Manoso's dead and damn if his junk yard dogs aren't already sniffin' up your butt."
I heard Steph gasp at his crudeness as I stepped between them.
"You're way out of line, Morelli, time to take off."
He couldn't let it go, "Guess you're glad Manoso's gone. Makes you the alpha dog, doesn't it? Put you first in line with her too?"
I wanted to drop him, but Steph's hand on my back stopped me. "Tank! Don't," she said, "he's drunk."
She was right. Sober he'd be overwhelmed by my size -- drunk it was no contest. He started to lean into me anyway. Behind me chairs scraped back and the conversation in the room hushed. I knew my guys were on their feet and at least two were on their way to watch my back. Morelli knew it too and even in his drunken haze he realized this confrontation wasn't going to be good for anybody. He stepped away, defeated. Game over.
"An apology would be nice," I suggested.
He muttered, "Sorry, Cupcake," and stumbled toward the door.
Steph hugged me from behind. She was trembling. "Thank you, Tank."
I didn't know if she was thanking me for intervening or for not tearing Morelli limb from limb. I did know that I had made a promise to Ranger to protect her at all costs. It was a promise I planned to keep until my dying breath. Tonight I didn't think I'd done a very good job.
*******
He may still be useful to us.
How? He has told us nothing.
No one knows that except us. I doubt he knows for sure. Besides, who would believe him if we simply............let him go.