Chapter Ten

He'd been waiting for this to happen. First blood. A declaration of war. He didn't look at Stephanie. Didn't want her to see the full impact of what this meant. "Some bodies just dropped on Stark," he said, calling Tank. This was going to take him away from her. He knew it already. He didn't need to say anything when the line opened.

"Raphael and Vince are already on scene," Tank said. "Along with PD and FBI. Talk is it's gang related, but the timing is suspicious. This says power move to me. Do you want to me to handle it?"

Of course he did, but he also knew he couldn't delegate this. It was deference to the fact he was with Stephanie that his friend had offered at all. "No. I need eyes on this."

"Do you want me to send someone to sit on her building?"

"Yes. We have someone nearby?"

"Near enough."

"Give me five minutes," he said and then disconnected. Dropped the phone on the bed. Shit. If it wasn't one thing it was another. He looked back at Stephanie. Her face still glowing, flushed and red from making love to him. Her once sleek curls mussed in that crazy way he found so appealing. He could still see the outline of her body through the sheet. Her nipples peaking the linen. All he wanted to do was to crawl back into bed with her. Sink into her and let the world burn. Fuck. He picked up his pants from the floor. "I have to go."

"Stark Street?"

"Yeah. Five gangbangers got popped. All of them employed by either Delgado or Marquez. I have a couple guys on scene, but I need to see for myself. Could be this thing just got ugly." He pulled his shirt on and started buttoning it across his chest. Didn't miss when her eyes slid down to his washboard belly. Might as well have licked her lips. He fought a smirk. "You could always ride shotgun. I could use the extra eyes." And the chance to keep her with him. Not only because he liked her company, but because of her insight. Not to mention it would save him man hours.

She thought about it. Not exactly turned on by the idea. Might have been the promised gore, or maybe the chance that Morelli would be there. That possibility had explosive potential. It had been fun seeing his reaction to the report of them dancing together at the club. It would be a whole other matter to bring her to his crime scene an hour later wearing different clothes and smelling like sex.

The thought must have occurred to her too because a shadow crossed her face. She grimaced. "Is it okay if I pass?"

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and retrieved his gun, unable to keep the smile in. "It's fine. If you stop by my office tomorrow I'll fill you in and get you the new files." He leaned over to kiss her, finding himself unwilling to pull away when his lips met hers. He gathered her up against him, sheet and all. Enjoying the feel of her soft body with so little between them. "Unless you'd let me drop you off at Rangeman on my way. Then I could fill you in when I get home."

"Is that another double entendre?"

"It's a promise."

o o o

Steph decided to play it safe and stay at her place instead of waiting for him in his apartment. Pity. Knowing she'd be in his bed when he came home would have made the rest of the night more bearable. Stark was already filled with uniforms and flashing blue and whites when he got there. Bordered with crime scene tape to keep the gawkers at bay.

Ranger met Carson's eye to acknowledge his presence. Then he turned to Morelli. A man who was anything but happy to see him. The tension was still pretty obvious, but the cop face was firmly set this time. Professional mode instead of jealous boyfriend. That was good. Professional Morelli he could deal with. Morelli was a good cop. Decent guy. They would never be friends exactly, considering Morelli thought he was a crazy ex-mercenary willing to do anything for a buck. But without Steph there, Morelli was able to keep any non-levelheaded behavior in check.

"This is a crime scene, Manoso."

"I'm aware. I'm just here to observe. Consulting for the FBI office. Personal favor."

"Lucky me." Morelli cut his eyes around the gathered onlookers. "Tell me you didn't bring Stephanie with you."

"She's at home, safe and sound."

"Meaning you've got someone sitting on her building."

Ranger held in the smile. Morelli was good at reading people. It was one of the things that set him apart as an investigator. And even though Ranger was anything but an easy read, Morelli knew him well enough to guess he'd never have left Steph unprotected. It also meant Steph was probably a subject best avoided, considering his cloths might look like they'd been on the floor at some point. Might as well announce I just banged your girlfriend. "What do you have?" he said, cutting his eyes to the five bloody piles in the street.

Morelli was smart enough to take the cue and move on. "I'd guess gang executions, but this is above and beyond what you usually see. Sometimes they'll swiss cheese a head, but I've never seen them remove one entirely. Some sick bastard hacked these guys up. We're having trouble identifying them."

Ranger stepped closer. It wasn't pretty. It also wasn't new to him. "This is a little too like a cartel calling cards for my comfort."

"I was thinking the same thing. You don't usually see this kind of shit on this side of the border. And I'm not sure we've ever seen it this far north."

"Cartels have a long reach, but they don't do things at random."

Morelli nodded. "The victims are from rival gangs. Colors suggest Latin Kings and Original Crip Gang. Neither of which have major conflicts with anyone south of the border, at least as far as I'm aware. Could be one of them did something to piss off bad people. From the amount of blood, they were killed here. Even Mr. Headless over there. ME said it was likely removed post mortem." Morelli looked at him. "What's your interest here?"

"Just trying to get as much information as I can. I have a contact in the DEA that's been working on identifying the source of a dangerous drug so they can shut it down."

"The PCP Steph's skip was on?"

Ranger nodded. "My instincts are telling me the known body count on that just doubled."

"You think it's all related."

"I do." Ranger lowered enough to examine the bodies. He recognized some of them, even through the mutilation. "This one's Jose Castillo. He's a foot soldier for the Kings, mid level. Not a bad guy. Could be he was standing next to the wrong people."

"How intimately do you know the Latin Kings?"

"I know a lot of people," Ranger said without looking up. He shifted to get a better look. "These two I've seen, but I don't know their names. I'd have to ask around."

He could hear it when Morelli held in a sigh. "I'll see if I can get you copies of the crime scene photos. Don't suppose you recognize the other two."

"One's been beaten to hell and other has no head. Might take time to identify them. I'll let you know when I do."

"I'd appreciate that," Morelli said. Sounding almost rational. It was one of the reasons Ranger always liked Morelli. He was capable of putting his personal feelings aside and doing his job, regardless of the issues between them. The job didn't care if they were rivals vying for the same woman. The job only cared if the bad guys were stopped from doing bad things.

Ranger stood. "This is bigger than it looks. You'll want to be careful."

"I don't need you to tell me that."

"No, but you might need me to tell you that someone has taken the chess game that is the Trenton drug trade and thrown the board over. My sources suggest this might escalate beyond Latin street gangs. They're talking mob intervention."

"Would this source be Baller Thatch?"

"You didn't hear it from me. You also didn't hear that the way timing lines up, this is likely a move to gain power. The FBI has a key witness who murdered an agent so he could go to ground, and Steph's skip is laying low because she knows things that put a target on her back. Someone is doing this on purpose. And now they're killing people in the streets to send a message. I have tentative connections with the Italian crime families, but since yours are more friendly, inquiries might go over better coming from you."

"You mean Gilman."

"She's worked with you before. Taking Grizzoli's temperature could be a good indicator of how the other families are reacting."

"I'll see what she knows." Morelli shifted. Staring at the dead. "What do you think the goal is here? How far are they willing go?"

"Given the way things are shaping? Pretty fucking far."

o o o

Ranger didn't head home until the last body was cleared off of Stark Street. Might get three or four hours of sleep before his day started again. He fobbed his way up to seven and pushed through his apartment door. Dropped his keys and his gun into the tray on the sideboard. The apartment was cool and quiet. Empty.

He was wishing more than ever that Steph had taken his offer. He'd have to try harder next time to convince her to sleep over. Because after spending the last few hours looking at mutilated bodies, it would have be nice to climb in bed with the woman he loved. Listen to her slow, even breaths until he was at peace enough to fall asleep. Curled around her like a protective shield.

His phone rang on his bedside table the next morning. God, don't let it be more bodies.

"I'm not pregnant!" Stephanie said. The sound of her voice dragged him awake. She was agitated, but only a little. More a thin annoyance than anything. Not in danger. Must be something else. After last night it was hard to guess what she might be upset about. She had a few things to choose from.

"Babe." He rubbed a tired hand over his face. She'd said she wasn't pregnant. Sounded pretty sure about that. Either she was still in denial or something more concrete had shown up. He knew she'd be squeamish if he asked outright. She was sensitive like that. Didn't bother him much. It was just biology. Still. Best to tread lightly. "Is this an official announcement?" he asked.

"No! I'm annoyed."

Not official. He tried not to have any feelings about that and failed. "You wanna be more specific?"

"Someone filled my fridge with healthy food."

"And that's a problem?"

"It is because I'm not pregnant. And there's no dessert."

"So the complaint is more that Ella didn't bring cheesecake."

She paused. Might have been making that cute little grimace she always wore when she found him frustrating. "You didn't tell Ella, did you?"

"I only told Ella to stock your fridge. She has no reason to think it's for any other purpose than that I've been spending more time in your apartment."

"Crap."

"Babe," he said, fighting a smile. "No one in my building will bat an eye about that. Any more than they would about you being at Rangeman." In fact, if anything Ella was pleased that he was spending more time with Stephanie. She held in most of her maternal urges when it came to Ranger, but he could still see them. She wanted him to settle down. Have a real life. That wasn't something he could do, but the uninvited thought of Steph in his bed with a round belly and a contented smile was a hard one to ignore. The smile won. "What did you have in mind for today?"

"Thought I'd look in on Terry Kroychek. Maybe drop by a few bars." He was quiet a second. Trying to decide if that was a joke or not. "To ask about Ronald Walker," she clarified.

Ah. That made sense. "You want Hal?"

"Not yet. I'll wait until I'm ready for a takedown."

"Stop by when you have a moment and I'll get you the updated reports. After last night, the sooner I can go over it with you the better. Is it safe to assume you spoke with Mooner again?"

"Yesterday."

"You get the impression he knew anything else?"

"Not off the top of his head."

"You can brief me later then. Maybe over lunch?"

"We'll see."

He smiled. She'd be there. And with any luck, they could squeeze in a nooner with the briefing. "Babe," he said. A combination of amusement and farewell. He listened to her silence for a second before he hung up the phone. He could always count on her to brighten his day. Something he desperately needed sometimes, given the way he days usually went.

He knew it was walking on thin ice to keep sleeping with her. No matter how much sense it made in the moment. He was already too attached. Their current predicament was just making it more obvious how far gone he was.

There were only a couple possible outcomes here. If Steph wasn't pregnant, there was a high likelihood she'd pull back from him again. Eventually try and work things out with Morelli. That wasn't the worst thing for her, considering. At least Morelli was willing to think about marrying her. Well. Willing to actually marry her. Ranger thought about marrying her sometimes too. He just never got far enough to think it was really an option. The worst thing in Morelli's past was the serial womanizing, and he'd grown out of that when he decided to focus his energies on being a good cop. The worst thing in Ranger's past was still a weight around his neck. Something he couldn't slip out of just because he fell in love.

If she went back to Morelli, Ranger would let her. He wouldn't like it. And he couldn't promise himself he'd let her be, since he had a tendency to make irrational decisions when she was involved. He would at least try to respect her wishes. But if he and Steph actually had a child together, the chances that he would step back were small. He couldn't even keep it in his pants long enough to figure out if he had any right to her or not. Every day that passed just made the idea more solid. This would be her eighth day. Over a week past due. Week 5 on the gestational calendar. About the point where morning sickness starts to kick in. And here he was, trying to figure out how to get her into his apartment and keep her there. Telling himself that she'd be safer, healthier, better off staying with him than she would on her own. Letting himself seduce her over and over again because he didn't want to give her up.

Thinking about the white gold and diamond ring he'd bought for her when they posed as husband and wife in Hawaii. The one that was still in his gun safe.

Fuck. He was in such deep shit. Because the truth was, he wanted her to be pregnant.