Hey, everybody!

I want to apologize for taking so long with getting this chapter posted. I didn't abandon this story, it's just that RL has been hectic lately! Hope this new chapter of A Rare Delicacy finds everyone happy and doing well. Thanks for sticking with me through six chapters already! Wow, time flies! Have a good week!

Rating: M for language.

Cupcake Warning: Cupcakes beware!

Disclaimer: I do not own JE's Stephanie Plum series characters. Not mine, just borrowing.

"Hey," I said softly to Stephanie. I placed a butterfly kiss on her cheekbone and smoothed her hair away from her forehead. She blinked her bright blue eyes a few times to become adjusted to the dim light of the early morning, which was filtering into our hotel room from between the cracks in the curtains. Slowly, a smile spread across her bleary face as she became more awake.

"Hey," she replied.

The smile that I'd been wearing when I was kissing her awake dissipated and I grew serious, drawing in a deep breath before opening my mouth to speak. "Babe."

"No," Steph said, shaking her head. "No 'babe'. No talking. Not yet." She reached up to me with her arms and pulled me down onto her smooth, soft body. She felt like heaven, still warm from sleep and smelling so good, like her and me and her perfume and shampoo. I breathed in deeply and filed the scent away in my memory, in case she never smelled like a combination of those four things again in our lives. I was done forgetting the little things about her. I wanted to savor every moment in her arms, every touch, every kiss. Every embrace. Every caress. Every laugh, every tear. I was done forgetting. It was time to begin cherishing.

I wrapped my arms tightly around her and buried my face in her curls. "I'd rather be here with you like this," I began, "than anywhere else in the world right now. I don't want this to end. I can't let you go, Stephanie."

Her chin trembled underneath my cheek and a few seconds later, dampness spread from my temple to my ear and I knew she was crying. It hurt so much to see her in this condition, having her whole life planned out by an insane letter and some ridiculous expectation she's got being held over her head to marry a guy that won't put her life in danger. When I eventually came to the conclusion that Stephanie thought her world would be better and safer as Mrs. Joe Morelli, it pissed me off to no end.

What she didn't seem to understand is that with my government contract now terminated permanently and my dangerous mercenary activities finally complete, I was no longer required to do the dirty work of the militaries of third world countries. I could concentrate exclusively on Rangeman security business and bounty hunting for Vinnie's high bond skips. Any future danger that Steph might happen across would no doubt quickly fizzle out once my men and I became aware of it and were able to put a stop to it before it got to her.

"God, Ranger," said Stephanie, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I feel like I'm constantly being dealt the shitty hand of cards in life because I seem to be getting worse and worse at being able to protect and defend myself. Why do things like this always happen to me?"

"Babe," I said, kissing a rogue tear from her cheek, preventing it from rolling down any further. "Don't even for a second blame yourself for what's going on here. You need to realize that you had nothing to do with any of this. This is my personal demon coming back to haunt me, not you."

Steph took a deep breath and let it out slowly before asking, "Did you kill someone, Ranger?"

I hung my head shamefully and pulled her tighter up against me. How the fuck could I even begin to explain this to her? "Yes," I admitted quietly after several moments. "It's something I've never, ever talked about before this moment, with anyone. Just the guys. And the Army shrink."

"Did you kill someone's wife? Someone's mother?"

"Babe," I grit out, sighing. I ran a hand over my face. "Christ, this is so hard." My voice cracked.

Stephanie urged me to lay on my back and she snuggled up to my side, with my arm protectively around her. She settled under the covers and lightly began to draw lazy circles on my stomach with the tip of her pointer finger. "Ranger, you can talk to me about this. I want to help you get this out and off your chest, since it has to do with why we're in this predicament in the first place. I want to know what happened to her."

I sighed again and swallowed before beginning. "Her name was Amelia Marquez-Herrera. Her husband was a major player in an illegal cocaine operation that was going down in Bogotá about six years ago. Joba Herrera. Herrera was an informant who, one day, leaked the wrong information to the wrong section of the Colombian drug cartel and nearly managed to get himself killed because of it. He spent six months in a jail somewhere deep in the jungles, befriending numerous drug lords while locked up and somehow ended up gaining their trust so that he could work with them when they all got out.

"Arnaldo Torres was another huge piece in the cocaine ring puzzle and was a very dangerous, very vindictive man. My unit and I had received orders from the Colombian government to execute any and all members of the Torres cartel and, since Torres happened to be one of the guys Herrera had befriended in prison, we were also ordered to take down anyone who associated with Herrera until we were able to locate Herrera himself. To make a long story somewhat shorter, we ended up receiving Intel that led us to Herrera and his family, who were all hiding in a bungalow near the border of Colombia and Venezuela. We'd been ordered by the government to take them into protective custody if they were found.

"Herrera, his wife, and their teenage son Eduardo came forward peacefully at first. As we loaded them into our terrain vehicle, Herrera suddenly became belligerent and lashed out at one of my men, injuring his face with a shank he had hidden in his shirt sleeve."

Steph's fingertips were soft and warm on my stomach and I rolled to my side to face her while I continued talking. She held me to her and stroked the back of my neck when my voice hitched in anticipation of the most horrific part of my tale. After a couple of deep breaths, I was able to continue. "My men and I had no choice but to retaliate against Herrera. Another one of my men tried to retrieve the shank from Herrera's grasp, but Herrera lunged at him again. I pulled a gun on Herrera." Shit, my voice cracked again.

This was so fucking hard. Steph soothed me with soft kisses to my temple and within seconds, I was ready to begin again. "Amelia had been shouting for me to drop my weapon, and to not shoot her husband. She had somehow managed to escape from the grasp of one of my men and when I pulled the trigger, it was too late. She'd jumped in front of Herrera and instead of the bullet from my gun plunging into him, it tore through Amelia's carotid and embedded into a tree trunk."

Stephanie gasped in terror. "Ranger, my God. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me, too, babe." I hugged her tightly to me and choked back a sob. "I never meant to kill her. She wasn't who we were after. It's Herrera that we'd wanted, and she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time like most innocent people are. She tried to protect her husband and died in the process, at my hands. I've never forgiven myself for what I did that day. It's something that I'll have to live with for the rest of my life."

"But Ranger, it really wasn't your fault. She stepped into the line of fire, willingly. To protect her husband, like you said. You can't blame yourself for this. I'm so sorry that you've had to go through this."

I kissed Stephanie with every ounce of love and passion that I felt for her. I felt my lips bruising and I became lightheaded from lack of oxygen. When we finally came up for air, she had tears streaming down her cheeks again.

"Babe, why are you crying?" I asked her softly. I used my thumbs to brush away the salty drops that fell from her bright, blue eyes.

"Because you're hurting," she whispered. "And I'm part of the reason why."

I quickly became frustrated. "Why are you so sure that Morelli can give you things that I can't? What is it that he has, that I don't have?"

Stephanie sniffed and blinked up at me. "He doesn't have enemies. He doesn't have a terrible past that could resurface at any moment. I'd be safe with him, Ranger."

"So safety," I reiterated flatly. "Safety is all you're after. Not love, not friendship, not a soulmate, not a someday. In other words, you're willing to give up your own happiness just to dodge a few bullets and escape a few sticky situations. IF any of that even happens." I unwound myself from Stephanie's body and slowly lifted myself off of the mattress. "Just doesn't seem fair to me, Steph."

"It's the right thing to do, Ranger," Stephanie said angrily. "I've already promised to marry Joe. Don't you think he's worried about me? He already thinks we ran off together and that he'll probably never see me again!"

"So what am I, just someone to fuck until we get back to Trenton and all this is over with?" I sneered.

Stephanie scoffed. "Hmmm. It's not so great when it happens to you, is it?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Remember our deal a couple years ago? After you spent the night with me and sent me back to Morelli because you didn't think you were good enough for me at the time? Yeah, well that hurt, Ranger. That hurt pretty badly. Welcome to the club."

I stalked over to where she sat on the bed and faced off with her, nose to nose. "At the time, I wasn't. I had a contract with the government. Now, it's different. I told you I'm done with missions and assignments. I want to have our 'someday', babe, but it looks like you're not going to let that happen. I'm sorry if I'm too late, but I don't think it could have been any other way." With that, I turned away from her and headed into the hotel bathroom. I heard Stephanie call after me, but I slammed the bathroom door shut before my resistance caved and I answered her yell.

Stephanie was on her cell phone when I finally emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. I was certain that she was talking to one of my men, but I wasn't sure which one.

She glanced at me as I walked over to the bed and sat down to begin putting on my shoes. "No, he just got out of the bathroom...I'll have him call you right now. Bye, Lester." She snapped her phone shut and primly rose from the bed in all her naked glory. I tried not to stare as she proceeded to flounce into the bathroom, her nose so high in the air she probably could have gotten a nosebleed. "Call Lester." The bathroom door slammed shut and I knew at that moment that things were royally fucked up between us.

Sighing, I dialed Lester and waited for him to pick up. "Santos," he barked after four or so rings.

"You called Stephanie?" I asked him.

"I called you first. When you didn't pick up, I called Stephanie."

"What do you have for me?"

"Joba Manuel Hoyos-Herrera. Eduardo Castillón Marquez-Herrera. I have their current address as Calle treinta y uno, numéro doce, en Bogotá. No word on whether they've actually made it into the U.S., but by the looks of things they already have. Their names and identities are no doubt concealed, so we have no idea who we're looking for. Could be anybody. Could be the guys who cleaned my sister's pool yesterday. Could be the guys selling arepas on the corner of Haywood and Fannon."

"Fuck," I grit out. "Tank told me yesterday that Morelli wants in on everything. Has he read the letter? Does he know why Steph wants to marry him? Or does he just know about Steph having another stalker?"

"No, Morelli hasn't read the letter. Tank gave it directly to the Fed in charge of the investigation. I told Morelli to pretty much stay out of things until we give him a reason to get involved. No need for him to be breathing down everybody's necks, barking fucking orders and generally being a piss-ass."

"So what exactly does Morelli know?"

"To the best of my intelligence, he only knows that Steph's got another creep after her, and that's pretty much it. As far as I know, he's not aware that Herrera told her to stay away from you and to get romantically involved with somebody else in order to save her own life. And I doubt he'll ever find out, because the Feds aren't releasing any details at all about the letter or the investigation to the local departments due to the fact that the case is now being considered official FBI business only."

"Good. But something still feels off, though. I want one of you doing security checks on him often. Once on the hour, every hour. Tail him around Trenton, if you have to. I'm still getting a bad feeling about him, because he's so eager to be in on the investigation. Don't lose track of him. If you do, I want to know about it."

"Roger that. How's Steph? Are you guys okay?"

"She's fine. She's not speaking to me, but she's otherwise fine. We'll work it out, man. Call me when you have something else. We're heading out of here in a few, after Steph's done in the bathroom. We've got a long drive ahead of us."

"Be safe, Bossman. Peace." Lester disconnected.

The bathroom door opened and Stephanie pranced out. She'd put on jeans and a stretchy tee shirt that said I'd rather be windsurfing.

"We need to get on the road," I said to her. "Start packing your things." I headed over to where our bags were stashed and began loading my clothes into mine. Steph ignored me as she brushed past me. She carried her bag over to the bed and began tossing her things inside.

"So, I know that Morelli's in on the investigation. Did he happen to read that letter?" she asked, her tone clipped and icy.

I shook my head. "Nope. But I can tell you that if he did read it, he'd know you were only with him because you were following Herrera's orders and not because you love him and truly want to make things work. The note is already in the custody of the FBI." I tossed my razor and deodorant into my bag and zipped it shut. "Maybe I should have him read it."

Steph's head snapped up and she glared at me, fire flashing through her eyes. "You'd never do such a thing, Ranger," she said, her voice low and menacing.

"You're right. It's not in my character to be vindictive and sly." I threw my duffel bag onto the floor and turned to face the dresser before rooting around for the room key cards. "Let's go, babe."

Stephanie fell asleep somewhere near Raleigh. I took that opportunity to make a few calls before she woke up and began angrily interrogating the hell out of me. I didn't need that right now. We'd already stopped at a rest center's Taco Bell for lunch and gassed up the Cayenne, with minimal words to each other all the while. I wasn't sure how to fix things between her and I, but I was certain that she'd come around once we got to our destination.

My cell rang as we blazed south down I-95, passing through Smithfield. "Talk to me," I barked to Santos.

"The Feds analyzed the letter and found fingerprints," Lester reported. "The prints belong to Eduardo Marquez-Herrera. Bobby and I went over to Steph's complex this morning and questioned everyone we saw. An old woman living three doors down from Steph said she saw a dark-skinned young man lurking around the parking lot two nights ago. Said he was wearing all black and had the bill of a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, so she wasn't able to see his face. That was all she was able to tell me. Didn't say whether he got into a car or was with anyone else."

These were all excellent developments. "Keep on it, Santos. You guys are on the right track."

"How much longer until you're at the safehouse?"

I glanced at the GPS and figured we were about another twelve hours out. "I'm driving straight through. It's one o'clock now, so we'll probably be there after midnight. I'll be in touch."

"Ten-four." Lester hung up.

Stephanie stirred, but didn't wake up. I knew that extracting her from her environment during a time of crisis would bring about major issues, but I also knew that if we didn't head for the hills after the first sign of danger last night, the more serious problems would no doubt come out of the dark to play.

The Cayenne glided across the Florida/Georgia state line at precisely seven o'clock. Steph was awake by then, and the icy, clipped tone had dropped out of her voice and was replaced with a listless-sounding mumble. We stopped for dinner at a Wendy's in Jacksonville. I choked down a salad and ordered Steph a grilled chicken sandwich, which she picked at and eventually threw out after claiming she wasn't very hungry. We were back on the road at seven-thirty, with Steph once again nodding off.

"Where are we going, Ranger?" she asked sleepily. She yawned and stretched out in the seat next to me. "And why is it taking so long to get there?"

I glanced over at her. "I have a safehouse on Key Biscayne," I replied quietly. "We'll be protected there, for the time being. The exact location is unknown to everyone but my attorney and a couple of trusted men from my Miami operations center. Even my core team back in Trenton has no clue what the actual address is."

Steph's eyes went wide. "A beach house?"

I nodded. "It backs up to the ocean." I ran a hand through my hair and turned to face her again. "My housekeeper is expecting us. You'll have everything you need there, waiting for you."

Steph fell silent. She stared out the window at the passing blackness, no doubt wondering what in the hell she'd managed to get herself into and how the fuck it was going to be resolved. When she turned to face me again, her eyes were soft and her voice was calm. "Is there a pool? Can I go swimming?"

I smiled. "Yeah, babe. There's a pool. And yes, you can go swimming, once we're settled in."

I pulled the Cayenne into the circular stone driveway in front of my beach house a little after midnight. I put in my code at the wrought-iron gate and waited until it slid open before easing the SUV through and up to the closed garage door. I input another code at another keypad and the garage door began to rise. I pulled into the darkened carport and came to a stop as the overhead sensor lights clicked on. Steph was still asleep, but as soon as I'd turned off the a/c and cut the engine, her eyelids fluttered open.

"We're here," I said. "Time to wake up."

"We're here?" came the sleepy reply. "It's about damn time."

My housekeeper met us near the door that led into the house. She was an older Hispanic woman, in her mid-sixties with salt and pepper hair always pulled back into a low bun. When she smiled, her crinkled eyes showed both her age and her wisdom. Her name was Rosalia, and although it was necessary for mine and Stephanie's survival, I absolutely hated keeping my true identity from her.

"Señor Rivera," she announced happily, once I'd gotten out of the driver's side of the Cayenne. She hurried into the garage and over to Stephanie, who was staring back at her with eyes the size of soup tureens. "Señora Rivera. Bienvenidos á Miami."

"Gracias, Rosalia," I replied, smiling. "This is my wife, Isabel." I turned to Stephanie. "Izzy, this is Rosalia."

"It's wonderful to finally meet you, Señora Rivera," Rosalia said to Stephanie in her thick, soothing accent. She kissed Stephanie's cheek and clucked over her, tsk-tsking and removing the duffel bag strap from Steph's shoulder before hefting it into her arms. "Let me get this for you, mi'ija."

"Thanks," Stephanie replied, clearly confused. She was still wide-eyed and looking at me questioningly.

"I'll explain later," I mouthed to her. I led Steph into the house after Rosalia and turned to lock up behind us. We walked through the service room and down a long hallway that led to the kitchen. I hadn't been to the house in at least a year, but Rosalia and my team of decorators and landscape designers had truly kept the place immaculate until my return.

Stephanie gasped as soon as we entered the kitchen. "Ranger, this is...beautiful," she breathed, staring up at the vaulted kitchen ceiling and seeing the moonlight and stars shining in through the skylights. I'm not much of a cook, but there were state-of-the-art appliances and granite countertops for my culinary team to utilize when I happened to be in residence. The refrigerator was stocked with fresh food and beverages, and the cabinets held clean dishes and glasses. A selection of wine was stored in the wine rack next to the large range hood.

"Help yourself later, if you're hungry," I said to Steph. She was too preoccupied with checking out the eat-in breakfast nook to respond. A large round table sat in front of the bay windows, which looked out into the backyard and pool area.

"Ranger, your backyard looks like something shown on MTV Cribs," Stephanie exclaimed.

I had to chuckle. "Focus, babe."

Steph immediately came to my side as Rosalia bustled back into the kitchen. "Let me show you to the master suite, Señor Rivera. Both of you, please. Follow me." Rosalia motioned for Stephanie and I to accompany her to the south end of the house, where the master bedroom and bathroom were. "The guest bedrooms aren't quite finished yet, so I didn't bother to make up any of those beds. I think you'll be very comfortable in the master suite."

"Thank you, Rosalia," I replied, as Steph and I fell into step behind her. Stephanie was oohing and aahing over the decorations and furniture in the living room and the dining room as we passed through on the way to the stairs. The steps were wide and open, twirling from the ground floor up to the third floor, twisting in a spiral as they ascended. The three of us climbed to the second floor and stopped when Rosalia came to a room near the end of the hall with wide double doors.

"This is it," Rosalia exclaimed, opening both doors. Inside was a king-sized bed with a canopy. To the left of the bed were French doors that led to the balcony, which overlooked the backyard and out into the Biscayne Bay. Ornate sconces gave the room an orangeish glow, and the furniture looked expensive. I really didn't remember picking it out, but I vaguely remember getting the bill and grimacing.

"This is beautiful," Stephanie breathed. She walked over to the French doors and looked out at the moonlit bay. When she turned back to me, her eyes were soft and sparkling in the dim light. "I'm really impressed."

"Glad you like it," I replied, smiling.

Rosalia kissed my cheek and then moved to hug and kiss Stephanie. "I'll let you both get settled. I am so pleased that you're here." She paused and smiled a wavering smile. "You know, when my husband and I were young like you are, en Cuba, we were so happy together. You both remind me so much of my husband Juan Carlos and I. You will have many memories here, and throughout the rest of your lives together. Sweet dreams, mi'jitos. It has been a long day for you both." With a final smile, Rosalia ducked out of the bedroom and I heard her footsteps retreating down the marble-tiled hall.

Stephanie stared at the door for a moment and then turned to me. "Izzy?" she exclaimed. "You want to tell me what's going on here, Ranger? Why the sudden change of identities?"

"Babe. It's to protect us." I was tired of having to explain to her why every move I made was done to ensure our safety. I wanted so badly for her to just trust me, to know that I would keep her safe. The more she fought me on things, the harder it was becoming for me to be patient with her. I scrubbed my hand over my eyes and blinked. I was so fucking tired.

"This is weird."

"It'll get even weirder when Herrera figures out where we are because one of his minions discovered that a Stephanie Plum and a Carlos Manoso checked into a mansion on Biscayne Bay. Something to think about." I opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony to breathe in a lungful of salty beach air. Stephanie followed me out onto the balcony and crossed her arms over her chest.

"So Rosalia thinks you're David Rivera? And that I'm your wife, Isabel Rivera? Who else doesn't know the truth?"

"My culinary staff, my gardener, my interior designer, my aquatic maintenance crew...my neighbor, Mrs. Valenzuela...the mailman..."

"Okay, okay. I get it. How is us being here supposed to get us any closer to capturing Herrera? And getting back to Trenton?"

"Just go with the flow, babe. I mean, really. Is being here such a hardship? So you have to pretend to be Isabel Rivera for a little while. Big deal. It's better than being prime rib for Herrera's killer appetite." I moved back inside the bedroom, Steph at my heels. I locked the French doors behind us and started towards the bedroom door. "Let's bring our things upstairs and get ready for bed. We're meeting with two of my men from my Rangeman Miami operation in the morning, and we need to be well-rested."

I left the bedroom and started down the hall. When I'd reached the stairs, Stephanie came hurrying up behind me and stepped down to the first floor with me, side by side. We gathered our bags from the kitchen and carted them back up to the bedroom in silence.

The real issue came after Stephanie had showered and had changed into tiny plaid boxer shorts and a very skimpy tank top, sans bra. When I began taking throw pillows off of the bed and placing them on the floor next to the nightstand, Steph came to stand on the opposite side of the bed and watched me turn down the covers.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" she countered.

I sighed. "Wherever you'd like, babe. You heard Rosalia. The extra bedrooms aren't prepared to sleep guests. You're more than welcome to sleep here in my bed with me, or on the couch down in the family room. I'm not going to force you to sleep anywhere you don't want to sleep. But what I can tell you for sure is this: I'm sleeping in this bed, on this side. It's eighty-six degrees tonight, with high humidity. I'm not going to be wearing much to bed, if anything at all. If you're not comfortable with that, being betrothed to Morelli and all, then please go down to the couch." I fluffed up a couple of pillows and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

When I came out of the bathroom in black boxer-briefs and nothing else, I noticed that the covers on the opposite side of the bed were rather lumpy and puffed up. Hunh. I tiptoed up to the bed and peeked behind one of the large pillows and, sure enough, bundled up in my 3,000-thread-count sheets, was the Queen of Denial herself.

"Babe?" I countered conversationally.

"Hmmmm?" came the muffled reply.

"Was the couch too uncomfortable?"

"I don't know. I never went down there to test it out."

"Oh." I cracked a smile and silently thanked God that she didn't see me. "I hope you remember to stay on your side of the bed. I don't want you to feel like you're cheating on Morelli." I crawled into my side and stretched out on my back, with my arms under my head.

"I already cheated on him, Ranger."

"Yeah, you did." I turned my head to face the back of Steph's head, looking at her messy curls. "But was it worth it?"

Silence. After a few beats, I heard a resigned, "Yes."

And there it was. I let out a soft snort of laughter and shook my head before turning onto my side, away from Stephanie. "Good night, babe."

"'Night, Ranger."

Chirp, chirp. What the fuck? Chirp, chirp. My cell. It was bleeting away on my nightstand with Santos's name and number flashing across the screen. It was three a.m. and this shit had better be important and related to Herrera. Or else.

"What?" I barked groggily.

"Bossman," Lester husked out. His voice was scratchy from sleep and I could tell he'd just woken up. Either that, or else Liliana had chained him to the bed frame earlier and had made him scream his fucking head off in ecstasy until he was hoarse because of whatever the hell she'd done to him.

"What happened? Lily lose the handcuff keys again? Because you know I can't just run down there with my lock pick -

"Got a call from Tank just now," he interrupted me. "Morelli's M.I.A."

I sat up all the way and felt my heart begin to pound. "What the hell? How do you know that?"

"Tank and I have Manny and Zip on the nightshift Morelli-Watch and they're switching out with Junior and Vince at dawn. Morelli left his house fifteen minutes ago and Manny followed him in his Expedition, but lost him on Route One. Morelli was headed south into Philly. Alone, as far as we know."

"Any other details I should know about?"

"None I can think of. Oh, wait. Manny told Tank that he saw Morelli put a small suitcase into the backseat of his Tahoe before getting in."

"That's it?"

"Well, yeah."

Suspicious Officer Joe Morelli wants in on an investigation involving his girlfriend and her former lover in a futile attempt to prove to everyone that he's still the good guy. Meanwhile, he's got the attention of all involved, generally acts shady, and now departs his rowhouse at three o'clock in the morning with a suitcase and manages to lose his tail on Route One, southbound into Philadelphia.

"Have you tried calling him?"

"Cell goes straight to voicemail," Santos replied.

Fucking awesome. "I want an APB put out on Joseph Morelli," I said to Lester. "Call Agent Turner from the FBI's Newark headquarters. Get Joe Juniak on the phone and explain the situation. Get everybody at Rangeman moving."

"I knew it was a bad idea to bring Morelli in from the start," muttered Santos. "I tried to tell Tank, but whatever."

"It was my fault, Santos. I okayed it. Now, you have three people to look for: Joba and Eduardo Herrera, and Joe Morelli."

"Ten-four, Bossman."

"And Santos. If you find any of them, I want them brought down here to me. Dead or alive."

"Roger that." Lester hung up just as Stephanie stirred next to me. Her eyelids fluttered open and she focused her gaze on mine. She blinked and stared at me questioningly.

"Ranger? Is everything okay?"

I sighed. "Morelli disappeared," I said to her.

Steph's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open as she became fully awake. "What do you mean, he's disappeared?"

"I've got men in Trenton tailing his every move, since something just feels off to me about his involvement in the case. I want to ensure that he's one of the good guys, that's all. Manny and Zip watched him leave his house about fifteen minutes ago, with a suitcase, and they ended up losing him on the highway headed into Philly. And his cell goes straight to voicemail."

"Ohmigod," Stephanie gasped. "I can't believe this!"

"Let's just hope he had a family emergency or something, because he's high on the suspicious activity list. Do you know if he has any family down in Pennsylvania?"

Steph thought for a moment, but then shook her head slowly. "None that I can think of. Everyone's up in Staten Island. He's got some family near Hazlet here in Jersey, but that's about it." Steph blinked. "I can't believe you guys would actually think of Joe as a possible suspect. I'm certain he has nothing to do with any of this!"

"I hope not, babe. Like I said, something just feels off."

Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest and blew out a frustrated sigh. I knew this was hard on her, but I've been relying on my gut instincts for decades and I was almost never wrong.

My cell phone rang just as I laid my head back down on my pillow. It was Tank this time.

"Bossman, you're not going to believe this."

A/N: So where did Morelli traipse off to, and what might he have to do with this whole situation? Are Ranger and Stephanie through for good? What does all of this mean for their relationship? Will they find the Herreras before it's too late? Stay tuned for chapter 7!