Chapter Nine
Part of him wondered, while he watched the bright yellow tip of snorkel sticking up out of the water, if he should have gone out into the waves with her. He'd resisted the temptation. Mostly because it was difficult to stay vigilant when he was with her. It was too easy to focus on Stephanie. Not a big deal when they were alone, sequestered in the little cottage where he could let his guard down. Out here it was different. Too many things could go wrong, especially in the middle of a man hunt. And even though they were far from most of his enemies, that didn't by any stretch mean that they were safe. Even with Noah watching their backs from somewhere nearby, Ranger still didn't want to put himself in a position to be vulnerable.
No matter how much he wanted to watch Steph's face light up while she swam around in that tiny red bikini.
She came running up the beach like she'd heard his thoughts, that infectious, bright smile all over her face. Her smooth white skin had a little more color. Warming into a creamy tan. She looked relaxed and happy.
She tossed the mask down and flopped back onto the towel beside him. Flecks of ocean water hit him when her curls swung out behind her. "Having fun?"
His dark eyes scanned her body from behind his sunglasses. She wasn't all that tall, but she was lean and long when she laid out on her back like that, her gentle curves only barely hidden by the little triangles of red. "I have my moments. You about done?"
"I think so. I could use some lunch."
Lunch sounded good to him. Maybe after a nice, relaxed day she'd be able to let go of her issues again and they could enjoy the rest of their time together. He knew it was selfish, but he liked having her to himself more than he wanted to admit.
He pushed the thought away before it could take root. No good would come of that either.
Steph waited until she was mostly dry before she started getting dressed. He rolled up the towels and tucked them back into the bag. Led the way toward the paved road that would take them to the parking lot.
Then Steph stopped breathing. Ranger saw it too. The ugly orange and lime green shirt was ahead of them, wearing a guy who was about 5'9", 180lbs. His black hair was streaked with silver under his white fedora, likely placing him somewhere in the range of mid forties. He fit the description of Simon Ruguzzi from the bond agreement. Mostly. Might have put on a little weight while on the lam.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Steph said. Her terrier instincts were kicking in. If he didn't pull her back, she was gonna barrel toward this guy with prejudice. Might be entertaining to watch, but it would put him on a plane before the day was out, and as unfair as it was, he wasn't ready to leave her yet.
"Could be a coincidence," he said.
"How many losers own a shirt that ugly?"
That made him want to smile. "Babe. Have you looked around much?"
She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny it. The entire beach was covered in bright shirts. "Not everyone can be Batman," she said, scanning the beach around the guy in the gaudy orange and green. No sign of Tootie. "I've gotta get a better look."
She started for him and Ranger caught her, holding her back. "This isn't an ideal environment. Too many people in the way and he's heading the wrong direction. You'd have to run to catch up, or get him to turn around somehow. Either one would call too much attention. There's no need to rush. We've got four more days."
"I know, but—"
"Babe."
"I'll be careful!"
He only stared at her through his black sunglasses. She wasn't capable of being careful and they both knew it. She narrowed her eyes in an attempt at stern indignation.
"You're not the boss of me."
"I'm frequently the boss of you."
"Yeah, but not today."
"You're being difficult again."
"Deal with it."
He raised an eyebrow. She really could be a pain in the ass sometimes. It was a turn on, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. She was like this when she worked for Rangeman too. Didn't like submitting to authority. Though, she usually had a task she could focus those energies on at Rangeman. It kept her from all out insubordination. This was the first time he'd ever held her back on purpose. She could sense it, too. He could see it in her face that she knew if she didn't obey, he would throw her over his shoulder like a caveman and drag her ass back to the car.
A flash of realization hit her and she took a giant step back without looking, landing right into a crowded spot filled with tourists. She tripped backwards over their cooler and crashed through the beach umbrella, taking it down with her in a mess of bent metal and torn fabric. He found her arm as quickly as he could. She was in a trance staring after The Rug's shadow. Didn't even notice that she was bleeding.
He was getting a lot of angry looks from the vacationers. "I'm sorry. She's not feeling well. Got too much sun. I was trying to take her home so I could put her to bed."
That stuck enough that they didn't make an issue when he whisked Steph away up the beach.
o o o
He cleaned her up as best he could with the first aid kit in the glove compartment. She had a twelve inch incision on her side, stretching from just under her bikini to her waistline. One of the stretchers had broken when she crashed through the umbrella. Sliced right into her. It wasn't very deep, but he never liked it when she was bleeding. It put him in a sour mood.
She was defiant on the drive back to Honolulu. The car filled with awkward silence. Usually Ranger liked silence. But not like this. The energy between them wasn't comfortable. And it definitely wasn't sexy. Steph crossed her arms, casting him an angry look, daring him to say something. He just kept driving.
"I was trying to do my job," she finally said.
"I'm not arguing that."
"Then what's your problem?"
His eyes were still hidden behind his sunglasses, fixed on the road ahead. Trying to keep his annoyance in check. "My problem is that you let your anger at me cloud your judgment."
"I'm not angry at you and my judgment isn't clouded. I saw an opportunity and I took it. Simple as that."
"After I told you why it wasn't a good idea."
"I could have ID'd him."
"And what would that get us? There are less intrusive ways to confirm his identity. What you wanted to do was risky with a high possibility of failure and you tried to go through with it anyway because I told you not to. Power plays between us are usually about your independence, not the job."
Even as he said it, he knew that was only part of the problem. It wasn't just that he was annoyed at her for defying him. He was annoyed at himself.
He knew what this was. At no point had he intended to delude himself that what was happening between them was any more than the fulfillment of sexual tension. He should have been more detached than this. And he was angry at himself that he wasn't. He was supposed to be a professional, and no matter what his personal feelings were, this was supposed to be a job. He was the one who decided playing house was more important than catching their target. Regardless of what was good for her.
And what should have made him even more ashamed was that he didn't have any intention of changing. If he was a good guy, he would have stepped back a long time ago. Let her throw her lot all in with Morelli so that she could have at least a chance at being happy. But like a rat with his treasure, he'd kept after her. Dogging her trail and stealing kisses to remind her of the power between them. Unable to let her go because she'd burrowed so deep under his skin.
He'd convinced himself that as long as she still wanted him, he was justified in pursuing her. Because he was just trying to give her what she really wanted. Truth was, he didn't know what she really wanted. He only knew what he wanted. And he wanted her. Come hell or high water.
The hell part was probably a certainty at this point, anyway.
"I know what I'm doing," she said, cutting through his thoughts.
Ranger glanced at her with a stern expression before he turned back to the road. "So do I." God help him. She deserved better.
Steph slumped back in her seat, some of her fight gone. Whatever was going through her head was stealing away her fire. Probably convincing herself, against her instincts, that he was right. She was too stubborn to admit it, but she knew above all, he wanted to protect her. At least from everyone but himself. "It wasn't that risky," she said, not entirely meaning it.
He cut a brief glance at her. "Tell that to the foot long gash in your side."
And there it was. The last blow to undermine her doubts. He saw it when she gave in. It should have made him feel like a tool. But then, you have to still have a conscience for that.
He pulled into a parking spot near a two story shopping center in Honolulu and shut the car off. He looked her over. "You're going to need some new clothes. If I try to take you anywhere covered in that much blood we're going to attract attention. There's an ABC store on the corner that should have something passable."
"Or I could go up there and get something better than passable," she said, pointing at the building ahead. There was a women's clothing store on the second floor, next to a Chinese buffet. The building itself was built into the side of a paved hill. Parking on the second level assessable by a steep driveway. The clothes in the boutique were probably nicer that what she'd find in the corner convenience store. He shrugged his indifference and angled out of the car.
He started around the back to open her door and a sound caught his attention. The chatter of an undertuned engine coming toward them at a faster rate than any of the other cars. Tires chirped. He looked up and saw a rusted out Ford Taurus blow through the intersection, heading straight for them. He moved to her passenger side door in an instant and snatched her hand out of the air with unnatural accuracy, lifting her out of the car just as the Taurus smashed into the Cayman.
He was holding Steph's back against his chest, an arm around her waist. Her feet dangling. She was hardly breathing, but she wasn't hurt. He set her on her feet and went to the driver's side of the Taurus. He wrenched the metal open without thought and dragged the man out by the front of his shirt. He slammed him into the side of the car before he dropped him to the ground. He wanted to strangle him. Break his scrawny, worthless neck for what might have happened.
He held back. Snapped the cuffs on him and threw him up onto the curb.
Ranger drew in a deep breath and stood still a moment with hands on hips, watching when the ruptured fuel line caught a spark from the engine and flames started up from the piece of shit's undercarriage. It spread quickly, blackening the Taurus until it was hard to tell where it melded with the exterior of the Cayman.
He felt it when Steph's energy moved up beside him. It was soothing in a way he'd always appreciated. "Bummer," she said, resolving the rest of his tension. He almost smiled.
"Yeah." He looked at her out of the side of his eye. Sirens were growing in the distance. This was going to get messy. Cleaning up after Steph's bad karma in Trenton was a little easier. She had a reputation there. People had come to expect a certain amount of carnage when she was involved. Here, she was a whole new oddity. "You go on ahead. This might take a while to sort out. I'll catch up to you when I'm through here."
"You sure?"
He nodded. There was no guarantee of how this would play out. It wasn't likely there would be an issue, but just in case someone noticed he was carrying, he didn't want any of this shit to blow back on her. And Noah would be nearby to look out for her, he was sure of it. Drawn to the spectacle like everyone else.
Steph didn't need any further encouragement. She backed away from the swelling heat, watching from a distance while the blue and whites pulled up with the fire engine and ambulance.
A crowd had gathered to watch the cars burn. Guess this didn't happen as often in Honolulu as it did in Trenton. Meet Stephanie Plum, boys. She'll be here all week. He fought a smirk.
"Something funny?" the nearest cop asked him. He was a disgruntled looking guy. Mid thirties. Had something about him that said busted-down-to-beat-cop.
Ranger let the smile win. "There's all kinds of funny in life, if you know where to look."
People at the far end of the crowd started to gasp, parting like the red sea for a battered dumpster. The thing crashed into the pile of twisted metal, shoving the whole mess back several feet and dumping a shitload of garbage onto the inferno.
Ranger pulled his phone out of his pocket while the uniforms collected their jaws off the ground.
Got her?
Yes. Watch your 6. Noah texted back. Smartass.
He texted Rico too, letting him know what happened to the Cayman. He'd made the arrangements. He'd need to handle the paperwork once they were finished at the scene. He would also be bringing the backup plan.
Steph was still looking over shoes when he got up to the little clothing store. Noah was standing at ease by the front door, ignoring the nervous looks from the shop attendant. "Do I need to know about the dumpster?" Ranger asked him.
"You know as much as I do, and I was standing right next to her. You're gonna have your hands full with that one. I wish you luck, though. I just hope you know what you're getting into."
Ranger raised an eyebrow, but didn't answer. Noah was a good detective. Thorough. Didn't miss much. Obviously he'd seen the ring. Probably figured out it was a recent acquisition. Steph hadn't taken it off once since he'd slid it on her finger that first day. He sometimes wondered if it would be better for them if she did. Take some of the pressure off. He just couldn't bring himself to suggest it.
Ranger dismissed Noah without correcting him. People usually thought what they wanted. There wasn't any point in confirming or denying things that weren't their business.
Ranger handed the shop attendant his credit card. "Find everything you need?" he asked Steph.
"Yes. What happened with the car?"
"It's not so much a car anymore as it is a scrap metal sculpture."
"That's too bad. It was sexy."
The corner of Ranger's mouth lifted. "Sexier than the 911?"
"It was up there."
He smiled. Steph really liked the 911. The atmosphere was charged every time they were in it together. And when she'd climbed on top on him, one knee on the console, one foot on the ground through the open door, he'd held on tight and given over to her completely.
"Why don't you get changed and we'll grab some lunch," he said, controlling his body.
She took her new clothes into the dressing room. He thought about following her. He could do a lot in a space like that. But even if he knew she'd be excited about the prospect, they were the only people in the shop. Steph might not appreciate the attendant knowing her personal business.
It suddenly seemed like a missed opportunity when she came back out in a thin blue dress the color of her eyes. It had a deep neckline that showed off her breasts, a hint of black lace peeking along the edge. The skirt came down to her knees, but it had a flow to it. Like if she spun in a circle, it would lift clear up to her thighs.
He looked her over carefully. "Sexy."
"You like the dress?"
"The dress is nice too," he said, gesturing toward the door. He kept a hand at her waist all the way down the stairs. A pristine black Porsche 911 Turbo was parked in a spot by the planter boxes.
"What's this?"
"Plan B."
"How did you get a new one so fast?"
"I had Rico drive it over. He'd planned for another Cayman, but you said you liked the 911."
"You telling me you had a second car on standby?"
"Babe, you go through cars like most people go through shirts. They've caught fire, been exploded by rockets, and one was even flattened by a garbage truck."
"That wasn't my fault."
"Of course it wasn't. But that doesn't change the fact that I've lost more cars to you than all my men combined. Times five. Seemed like a smart move to plan for the inevitable."
"That's really funny. You're hilarious."
He grinned.
