AN: Hi! I can't tell you how much your reviews made me smile, thank you so much!
It seemed to happen in slow motion, Ranger narrowly avoided Morelli's first punch but wasn't so lucky with the second one. It connected solidly with Ranger's jaw, the force of the punch knocking him backward half a step. Ranger swung back and connected with Morelli's lip. I didn't want another Hawaii on my hands, neither of them had been in good shape afterward, so when Ranger nailed Joe and Morelli staggered back I used the opportunity to step between them to break it up.
You know how there are things that don't seem like a bad idea until you look at them in hindsight? Joe used to box in the Navy and had a reputation for being smart, fast and having one hell of a right hook. These were things I failed to take into account, but was reminded of quite suddenly when Joe, moving faster than I was prepared for him to, swung at the precise moment that I stepped between them. Joe's fist connected with my cheek and jaw, and for a second all I was aware of was a loud ringing in my ears, a desire to throw up and stars.
When the stars cleared and the pain started, I realized I was on my ass, being supported by a young mother in running clothes, she was rifling through a diaper bag attached to her jogging stroller, looking for something, "I'm calling Security," she said.
The wet crunch of cartilage breaking snapped our attention back to the fight as we watched Joe, valiantly try to fend off an extremely pissed off Ranger; the noise we'd heard was the sound of his nose being relocated. Then in a movement so quick that it stunned all of us, in one movement, Ranger threw Joe down onto the ground and drew his weapon, chambering a round as he leveled the gun at Morelli.
"Fuck," I said and struggled to get up, with the mother's support, "Call security."
I stumbled back towards the fight, forcing myself to shake off the spins from standing up too fast.
"Ranger I'm okay; don't kill him," I said a little desperately.
"Give me a good reason," he said.
"There are witnesses, and you'd go to jail," I said.
"Defense of a third party," Ranger said, his voice clipped.
"Ranger, he's a cop. If you kill him, they aren't going to care why and even if you got off, it would be bad for business," I said, "Besides, it would be gross, and I'd throw up."
Ranger's finger came off of the trigger, but the gun was still pointed at Morelli. I heard the sound of security arriving on their golf carts, there were eight of them; I was guessing they had back up from the hotel. Billy and Roy were with them. Roy was ashen and frozen to his golf cart; Billy had already jumped off and was on his way to us. I waved him off, and he motioned for the others to keep their distance.
"Please Ranger, you're scaring me," I said and put my hand on his arm.
Ranger didn't take his eyes off of Joe, but he did lower his gun and let me take it from him,and he didn't protest when I took his second one from the holster at the back of his pants. I stepped slightly out of his reach and motioned for Billy to relieve me of them because I had nowhere to stash them on my dress.
Joe took his eyes off of Ranger and looked at me, "Cupcake I…" he started, but I cut him off.
"Shut up Morelli," I said and sent up a quiet prayer that Morelli wouldn't be stupid and would realize that Ranger was probably doing a mental inventory of how many different ways he could kill Morelli right now, without any weapons. I stepped between them again, forcing Ranger to look at me, he gently tilted my face so he could see the damage caused by Morelli's punch, and I watched the anger flash in his eyes again.
"Stop it," I said, "We both know that he would never hit me on purpose. Besides I only fell because he surprised me, Joe hits like a girl."
"I scared you?" he said, his eyebrow cocked.
"Fuck no, I just needed to say something to get your attention," I said, "Let me handle Morelli; you chill out Security before they get smart and call the real cops."
The impassive look Ranger gave Roy did actually scare me a little bit. What Ranger did to Morelli didn't scare me at all, yeah it wasn't pretty but it was easy to diffuse. All you had to do was get Ranger to listen long enough for him to get even the tiniest grasp on his emotions and then he could lock them down. Once he was no longer reactive it didn't take much to get him to back down. When he was working and taking down bad guys, he was perfectly calm. If he had to fight or shoot someone, it was part of the job, and he wasn't emotionally invested. When he was at his most dangerous though was when he was the way he was now. In control of himself and pissed off. He sort of gave off the vibe that he would take his time so he could savor the bodily injury he was about to inflict on you.
"Take comfort in the fact that when you take over, you can fire his ass for gross incompetence and leave it at that," I whispered urgently.
"No promises," Ranger said.
"We'll meet you at the gate," I said.
He glanced back at Morelli on the ground. The woman who helped me had given Morelli a receiving blanket to stem the flow of the blood from his nose, and she was attempting to clean him up with a travel pack of baby wipes. Ranger grabbed me, kissed me hard and with quite a bit more tongue than he usually used in public, before he went to make Roy regret his most recent life choices.
"Thanks, I've got this," I said to the woman.
"I should give Security my statement, so your fiance doesn't get arrested," she said.
"What did you see?" I asked.
"A seriously hot kiss and then this idiot going all king of the apes and throwing the first punch," she said. She handed me a business card, "In case you decide to press charges, and you need a witness."
"That's won't be necessary," I said and looked at the card, it said she was a corporate strategist for some business I'd never heard of before, her name was Tara Gillespie, "Thanks for your help Tara."
"Good luck," she said and retrieved her stroller, leaving me with the baby wipes and Tarzan. I looked at him; he was looking mildly pathetic with his soft yellow duckie blanket and rapidly bruising eyes.
"What the hell were you thinking?" I hissed at him, "You're lucky he didn't kill you!"
"What the hell was I thinking?" he hissed back, taking the blanket away from his nose, the bleeding seemed to have stopped for the moment, "Your mother told me that what happened in Trenton was for show. Well, I think somebody forgot to tell Manoso that because the way he was looking at you before he kissed you, had nothing to do with a job. He wants this to be real, Cupcake."
"It is real you idiot; I broke up with you for real. If you had just let me speak when you called, I would have told you that, but you had to go and trace the stupid call!"
"What the fuck Stephanie?" he snapped, "You broke up with me so you could come here and fuck him with a clear conscience?"
"No you jackass; I told you why I broke up with you when I broke up with you. I don't know what more you want me to say but listen to me right now, my relationship with Ranger is real. We're getting married as soon as this job is finished," I said, "This isn't pretending, this isn't me acting for the sake the crowd, this is me telling you the truth. Believe me, don't believe me, it's entirely up to you, but if you fuck this up for me, I'll tell everyone we broke up because I discovered you caught Herpes from Joyce."
"Joyce?" Joe said, looking disgusted.
"You've slept with her before; it's plausible," I said, "And I'll get all the sympathy because I'll remind everyone that she's the reason my first marriage ended. You'll be lucky if you get laid again."
"It's been a while since we've been at war, Cupcake. I forgot how vicious you can be when your hackles are up," Joe said.
"Yeah, well I think you broke my face, so you're just going to have to live with my inner bitch for a while," I grumbled.
"I don't know how I'm going to handle the adjustment, Stephanie. I thought we were getting passed our problems. I thought we were in a good place," he said.
"We were just ignoring our problems, Joe. For Christ's sake, the foundation of our relationship was good sex and a mutual love for hockey and pizza."
"I've seen relationships built on a lot less," Joe said.
"You'd think after a few years there would be a lot more, wouldn't you?" I said.
"It's going to kill me to see you with him," Joe said.
"Yeah, and when you find someone, I'm probably not going to like it either, and I probably won't like her. But you aren't mine, and I'm not yours so we'll both have to get over it."
There was an awkward silence where neither of us knew what to say next; then Joe cursed because his nose started bleeding again.
"Your nose is broken; you need to see a doctor," I said, "We'll take you."
"I have a car," he said.
"Yeah and you don't know where you're going, and you probably have a concussion. I didn't just save you from a public execution for testosterone fueled stupidity, only for you to kill yourself behind the wheel of your car," I said and hauled him to his feet.
He swayed for a second, leaned on my shoulder until he got his bearings and I took him back to the golf cart. I made him sit on the rear facing back seat and helped him do up his seatbelt since he was once again trying to stop the bleeding.
"I don't hit like a girl," Joe said.
"I thought it would be stupid tell him the girl in question was Ronda Rousey. Ranger has been in an exceptionally good mood today and not feeling all that predisposed towards upsetting me, which is the only reason you aren't a grease spot on the boardwalk right now."
"I got that impression," Joe said.
I got into the driver's seat and drove down to the boardwalk to wait for Ranger. "What are you two doing down here anyway?" Morelli asked.
"Joe..."
"Throw me a bone, Cupcake. I need something to take my mind off of the fact that my nose is at a right angle, and it's because the woman I was planning to marry is marrying someone else," Joe said.
"Nice try with the guilt trip, Joe. Too bad your nose is fucked up because you're an idiot and not because I'm marrying Ranger," I said, I turned to look at him, "How did you get in here in the first place?"
He shrugged, "I handed my ID to the guard at the gate; he entered it into his computer, and he opened the gate."
"Did you give him your badge?" I asked.
"No, just my driver's license. Why?" he asked.
"No reason," I said, "How did you get onto the boardwalk?"
"Held the door for a woman who had her hands full with a bunch of kids," Joe said. The fucking human factor again.
I saw Ranger approaching, so I slid over to the passenger seat. He got into the cart and sat next to me.
"We need to give Morelli a lift to the hospital for his nose," I said. Ranger ignored Morelli and examined my cheek and jaw again.
"Are your ears ringing?" He asked.
"Not anymore," I said.
His jaw clenched, but he put the cart in reverse, turned us around and headed in the direction of the hospital. The ER was a ghost town when we walked in; Joe was taken back immediately, and a plastic surgeon was summoned. The triage nurse who evaluated Morelli looked at my face and looked at Ranger, "She needs to be examined as well, the doctor is probably going to want to do an x-ray of that cheek."
"I am standing right here," I said.
"Yes, but if I tell you, you'll refuse. If I tell him, you'll actually consent to an examination by a doctor; I know your type," She said. She got me an ice pack for my cheek and took my vitals while Ranger filled out paperwork. Once he finished that, we went to the waiting room to wait for the doctor.
"So, did you kill Roy? Or are you waiting so you can make it look like an accident?" I asked.
"He's not dead; but I've told him to clean out his desk," Ranger said.
"Do you have the authority to do that yet?" I asked.
"I don't, but Chase will fire him the minute I tell him what happened. Morelli was on our proscribed list of visitors for this exact reason," Ranger said.
"I've gotta say, not particularly wild about you two fighting over me," I said, "This is the second time, and it wasn't hot either time. So if you could prevent this from becoming a habit, I'd appreciate it."
"I wasn't fighting over you, this time, I was defending myself," Ranger said.
"Right," I said and went to roll my eyes, but it hurt, so I readjusted my ice pack. My left hand was getting cold, so I switched hands.
"I was fighting over you in Hawaii because I was pissed. I didn't get a lot of time alone with you like that, and he blew his chance to be there with you. This time, I really was just defending myself," he said, "Then he hit you, and I wanted to kill him."
"I noticed," I said, "Just promise me something?"
"What's that?"
"If my face is broken, you won't do anything stupid like shoot Morelli?"
"Let me see," Ranger said, taking the ice pack from me. I tilted my head so he could look at it for the third time, "I doubt it's broken; if it is, it's a minor fracture, I'm more concerned about a concussion. Any nausea?"
"A little when he hit me," I said, "But you're dodging the request."
I shivered a bit, from a combination of the cool, air conditioned waiting room, the icepack and probably a little bit of shock. Ranger moved closer and put his arm around me. I snuggled against him for the warmth (and because I wanted to); with his left hand, he gently stroked the hair from my forehead in a repetitive, gentle, motion. Then he held the ice pack against my cheek with his hand. The combination was hypnotic, and I was tempted to drift off but didn't. "Ranger," I said warningly, "I know what you're doing..."
He chuckled, "I promise I won't cause Morelli any further injury, but I reserve the right to prolong the healing of any current ones."
"Ranger!"
"Best you're going to get out of me," he said, "Consider it a compromise because you didn't let me shoot him."
I grinned and then regretted it because it hurt. Twenty minutes later I was called back to the exam room, the doctor declared me concussion free and then sent me for an x-ray. Ranger was right; it was an extremely mild fracture, and there was no bone displacement, so I was given a bottle of painkillers, told to avoid hitting my face on anything for the next little while and then discharged.
It was another half an hour before Joe came out and he was looking pretty rough. They'd cleaned up the blood on his face, but both of his eyes were black, his nose swollen but straight and his eyes had the glazed look of someone off his face on the good stuff. Ranger agreed to take Morelli back to his hotel, in Morelli's car and then get a lift back to the house.
As we were driving back towards the shopping district, and Joe's car, we passed the grocery store. The lot was nearly empty save for one man who was transferring a bags from his shopping cart into the back of a golf cart designed to look like an old school pink Cadillac. He was talking on his phone, and from the way he was gesticulating, I knew two things. One, he was New Jersey Italian and two he was not very happy with whoever he was talking to on the phone. He turned his head slightly, and I realized I knew who it was.
"Stop!" I said. Ranger slammed on the brakes, nearly catapulting Morelli off of the back of the golf cart. He looked a bit disappointed when Morelli managed to hang on.
"Isn't that Nicky the Sparrow?" I asked. Both men looked toward the parking lot and the man now sitting in the golf cart, shouting abuse over the phone.
Nicky the Sparrow worked for Harry the Hammer, Vinnie's father in law. He was muscle and known to take on the occasional hit, and he was good, really good. Everybody knew that for the right price Nicky would whack someone, but you knew it in kind of the way you know about oxygen. You know that if you're in a room and breathing, then it's a good bet there's Oxygen in the room. You can't see it because it's invisible, but hey, you're alive so it must be true. The same principal applied to Nicky the Sparrow. Every now and then Harry bought Nicky a new car, and this meant one of Harry's enemies was about to die of natural causes. There was never any physical or circumstantial evidence (aside from the car) to prove Nicky had carried out the hit or often if it even was a hit, but Nicky had a new ride, and someone was dead, so it must be true that Nicky killed him.
I hadn't seen Nicky in a while, but I was almost certain it was him.
"Sure looks like it, but my vision is a bit blurry right now." Joe said, "And I might be hallucinating from whatever pain killer the doctor shot me full of when he reset my nose."
"What the hell is he doing in Florida? Doesn't Harry usually keep Nicky pretty close?" I asked.
"He does," Joe said, "I highly doubt he's here on vacation, he's probably here on a job, but what that job is?" Joe did palms up.
"The Cadillac does look new," Ranger said.
I looked at Ranger, "He's not on the list of PRs or Club Members; I think we would have noticed that. He's either using an alias or he's here as someone's guest."
"He can't have been here long," Ranger said, "I saw him at the Bonds Office before I went to the airport. Nicky was there to emphasize Harry's displeasure at some of the risks Vinnie has been taking lately."
"Do you think he's here because Harry's pissed that you pulled me out of Trenton?" I asked.
"Unlikely, but possible. Either way, his presence here could cause us some problems; we're going to have to figure out what he's doing here," Ranger said.
"I knew things were moving along just a little too smoothly," I said. Ranger nodded and pulled a u-turn to take us back to the house.
A few minutes later, Ranger pulled into the driveway and hit the garage door remote. He parked the golf cart in it's bay, and we all got out. Morelli eyed the truck and the Porche. "That's better," he said, and Ranger glanced at him, "Seeing you drive the golf cart was just fucking weird."
Ranger gave a snort of agreement and went to unlock the door. What the fuck was that? Two hours ago they were going to kill each other! I followed them into the house, and they went out to the dining room, and Ranger grabbed a couple of beer from the minibar and handed one to Morelli. Hector was in the kitchen with his laptop and a sandwich.
He looked at me with my bruised cheek and looked out to the dining room where Morelli and Ranger weren't speaking, just sedately drinking beer. "Que pasa?"
"Fucked if I know," I said, and Hector offered me half of his sandwich.
"Margarita?" he asked. I handed Hector my bottle of painkillers and he read the label, "Margarita." he said.
Hector and I didn't need to speak the same language; we communicated on a higher level. Together we located what we'd need for the drink, and I handed Hector ingredients as he dumped them into the blender. That done he poured us each a big glass, and I took a sip. What was dangerous about this, was I saw how much Tequilla was in that drink, and I couldn't taste it.
I took my margarita out to the table and sat down. Ranger eyed the glass but wisely kept his comments to himself. Joe pulled his phone out and started typing away.
"There's one about ten miles east of here," Joe said.
"Thanks," Ranger said.
"One what?"
"The McDonalds he's going to get your breakfast from in the morning," Joe said. I glared at them both.
"Why did you bring him back here?" I asked Ranger.
He motioned for us to follow him back into the office. He parked my ass behind his desk and motioned for Morelli to sit at mine.
"The phones in here are secure, call Connie and whoever else you call when you need information." he said to me.
"I usually call mom, Joe and you. Between the four of you, I have Trenton covered." I said.
"Then we've saved you two phone calls," he leaned down and lowered his voice, "Make sure he understands that if he touches you again, it won't be pretty."
"You just said that you were too busy to dispose of a body," I reminded him.
"I'd make time." He kissed my forehead and went out onto the deck with his cell phone.
"This is where we are different; if I were in his shoes I wouldn't leave you alone in here after today," Joe said as he picked up the phone.
"He trusts me, and he's no longer needs to worry about witnesses," I said.
"Nevermind, then," Joe said and began dialing.
"Yeah," Connie said when she answered her cell.
"Hey Connie," I said, "I need you to get me some informa-"
"What the hell is going on!?" Connie yelled so loud I had to take the phone away from my ear.
"It's a long story."
"No, you can't just say, 'it's a long story.' Nuh Uh, not this time. See I've pieced together that the engagement is fake, and you're working, but you are definitely sleeping together."
"How did you work that out?"
"Because you wouldn't want to lie to us over something big, which is why Ranger gave you the mittens to hide the doorknob on your left hand," Connie said.
"Well, don't tell anyone your theories, especially not Lula," I said.
"I wouldn't tell Lula and fuck up your job. She'd have it all over Twitter before I could finish speaking. So how's paradise with Batman?"
"Great until Morelli showed up and forgot about evolution," I said.
"That's twice now; did you have a stun gun on you this time?"
"Nope, I did something better. I decided it would be fun to try to break it up this time before it got ugly, and have a broken cheek now, courtesy of Morelli," I said.
"So you're in the Keys right?"
"Yeah,"
"Look for a Mangrove forest. Now what you've gotta do is chop the body up into medium sized pieces and weight them. The crocs will take care the rest for you."
"Ranger didn't kill him," I said.
"How did you manage that?"
"I put him in a pretty good mood before they went at it by saying I'd marry him for real. Because we want to and not for a job," I said. There was dead silence on the other end of the phone. It lasted so long I thought we'd been disconnected, "Connie, are you there?"
"I'm sorry, I blacked out there for a minute. Are you serious?" Connie asked.
"Yup," I said, I gave Connie a minute to digest that, "Believe it or not, I have stranger news than that."
"Are you pregnant with Batman's baby?" Connie asked with a disbelieving laugh.
"No, I just saw Nicky the Sparrow," I said.
"You've got to be wrong about that; Nicky doesn't leave Trenton. Nicky doesn't trust anyone to watch Harry's back but Nicky."
"Joe and Ranger saw him too; I'm sure it was him," I said.
"Let me make some calls," Connie said, "It'll give me something to do while I wait for my date to get here."
"Your date?" I asked.
"Yeah, Mary Lou has set me up with a friend of Lenny's. He's apparently not got a lot going on upstairs, but he's supposed to be a gift between the sheets," Connie said.
"Is it David Balluchack?" I asked.
"How do you know that?" Connie asked.
"Because she's set him up with a few of our mutual friends," I said, "They all say he lives up to his reputation." His reputation was that he was a nice guy, kind of ordinary looking, hung like a moose, and knew how to do things that would leave you smiling and walking funny for a week. The only problem with David was that his knowledge ran to sex and fantasy baseball. He made a lot of money with the fantasy baseball, but unless you understood Sabremetrics, having a conversation with him was nearly impossible.
"Good to know," Connie said, "Alright, give me twenty minutes to talk to some people. And congratulations."
I thanked her and hung up. I dialed my parent's house next and got Grandma. I gave her the news and asked her to break it gently to my mother.
"Your mother is at the supermarket right now. What I'll do is go upstairs and twist up all of your father's shirts, so they have nice wrinkles in them," Grandma said, "I'll even set up the ironing board."
"Hey, have you ever known Nicky the Sparrow to leave Trenton?" I asked.
"Sure, he does it every two weeks. He goes up to Princeton for a few days; he's got a house there that nobody is supposed to know about," Grandma said.
"How do you know about it?"
"Loretta Cranston has a daughter who married a professor at the University, and they had triplets a couple of years ago. Loretta has been going down every weekend to help out with the babies. She says that right up until this Thanksgiving, Nicky was a regular at the supermarket. She says he's got a real eye for produce," Grandma said.
"That could be really useful," I said, "Thanks."
I got off of the phone with Grandma; Joe was still deep in conversation with someone, so I went outside to see if Ranger was still occupied. He had his phone to his ear, and since I wasn't sure if I should be listening to any conversations he was having, I immediately began a retreat into the kitchen. Ranger caught my eye and motioned for me to stay. I was feeling a little pathetic, and I was almost due for one of my painkillers. I knew once I took them I'd be useless for a little while, and I still needed to work, so I did the next best thing. I walked over to Ranger and put my arms around his waist. He was still very tense, and it took him a beat to respond. When he did he held me a little tighter than usual, and that was perfectly all right with me.
When he finally disconnected, after saying maybe about three words, he tossed his phone onto the table and put his other arm around me.
"That was Chase; he's not happy. He's read the progress report, and he's drawing up the paperwork to transfer the account to Rangeman. In the meantime, he's going to have Roy escorted from the premises," Ranger said.
"Are you taking over immediately?" I asked.
"No. Billy is being put in as head of security for the interim. Chase likes him and has known Billy for a while. We're to tell him that we've been brought in to conduct the investigation, but Chase would like us to continue the audit without Billy's knowledge."
Ranger's phone rang, and I tried (okay not very hard) to give him his privacy, but he just tightened his grip around me. I guess it didn't really matter if I overheard Ranger's end of the conversation anyway because it mostly just consisted of "Yo," and the odd, "interesting," "Go ahead," and "No, go with plan B" punctuated by long silences. After a while though I started to feel a little weird just standing there, so I pulled away and indicated to him that I was just going for my drink.
As I was picking it up, my eyes landed on the file boxes for our case and the box of maps. I found the map we'd marked the crime scenes on and a pad of post-its. I rolled out the map on the table and used the empty beer bottles as weights to stop it from blowing away, and looked at the positions of the houses on the streets.
One minute wasn't a long time. It really wasn't, and Ranger said to be open to other possibilities, so here I was, trying to prove myself wrong.
I went through each file and found pictures of the exteriors of the houses and put a numbered post-it on each one of them and then numbered their positions on the maps. With the exception of the stamp collector's house, every house had their garage doors open, even after the break-in. This leant credibility to the 1-minute window theory, but four of the residences were positioned at the end of cul-de-sacs which meant that it would likely take longer than one minute for whichever vehicle they were using to be out of the line of sight of the garage. Unless of course the garage door was in shadow when they left and the person wore dark clothing for the break-in.
A breeze blew up the back of my dress, and I batted my skirt down and pulled out a chair and knelt on it, so I didn't accidentally flash anyone. While Ranger wouldn't mind, with my luck it would be Morelli who would be closer and get the best view. Also, given the sheer nature of the dress, I was waiting for one of them to realize; I wasn't exactly wearing much under it. Life was easier if you just wore jeans and a stretchy t-shirt every day.
Ranger wrapped up his call and came to the table, "What are you thinking?"
"Nothing too clearly, I keep going back and forth between this job and an overwhelming desire to Google."
"What do you want to Google?" Ranger asked.
"Right, I forgot, I'm engaged to Mr. Google," I said it, "I'm wondering what Florida state laws are regarding the waiting period between obtaining a marriage license and executing it."
"Afraid I'm going to change my mind?" he asked, with a slight smile on his lips.
"Nope, just impatient," I said.
"Three days," Ranger said and kissed my temple, "What are you working on?"
"I got the feeling you were talking about your Miami problem, is your mind here, or would you rather wait until I have a firm idea of what I'm thinking about before I come to you with my problem?"
"I can multitask," Ranger said.
"I'm trying to disprove my theory that they are exploiting the one-minute window. See, I was thinking that one minute wasn't a very long time, and it made me think of you," I said.
"Bad for my ego, Babe," Ranger said behind my ear. I turned my head so that I was looking at him and tried hard not to smile.
"I was more thinking along the lines of your mad skills when it comes to breaking and entering. If anything you did in bed could ever make me think of the one-minute window, it would be that thing you do with your tongue that can get me off in under a minute."
"I have a few more tricks up my sleeve that are as effective," he said, "Would you like me to demonstrate?"
"Not with Morelli ten feet away and an offshore audience who are under strict orders to peep," I said.
"If you can be quiet, I'll make sure nobody sees anything," It was absolutely a dare, and he was amused because he knew there was no way I'd take him up on it.
"Can we work now?" I asked and attempted to cock an eyebrow at him. I failed, but Ranger put a finger on my eyebrow and lifted it for me.
"Thanks for the assist."
"Do what I can, Babe."
I sighed, "This is my biggest problem: we've determined that it would be difficult to exploit the window without hiding in the garage first, but even then it might nearly be impossible."
"Why?"
"Because we didn't take into account how long it might take to be out of sight of the house," I said.
"That's not as big a problem as you might think," Ranger said.
"Why? I mean one glance back and you'd be caught."
"Not necessarily, the human mind sees what it wants to see, most of the time," Ranger said.
"I'm in pain and maybe a little drunk, you're going to have to elaborate on that one Batman," I said.
He thought about it for a moment, "Most people have the same routine, every single day. You get up, you get dressed, you make your coffee, get into the car and go to work. Now let's say that on your commute home, you always pass a bright orange and green minivan parked in the driveway. The van is always parked in the same spot and in your mind, it becomes almost a navigational landmark. One day you drive home, and that van is backing out of the driveway, you have plenty of time to brake, but you don't see the van until it's too late and you crash into the side of it. What is going to be your first thought?"
"How the hell did I not see a giant orange and green van?"
"The answer is that you're tired, and your brain is on autopilot. It recognized the orange and green van, but it doesn't register as a possible danger until it's too late because your brain defaults to the van's position to its usual place."
"So what you're saying is, if I were pulling out of the driveway and Hector started poking around in the garage, I probably wouldn't notice him, but if it were a giant clown carrying a bloody ax, I would."
"That's what I'm saying," Ranger said and grinned,"You just scared yourself didn't you? You're worried about scary, ax-wielding clowns hiding in the garage."
"Yup; don't know why I did that to myself," I said.
"How much of you wants me to check the garage for homicidal circus performers?"
"More than I would like to admit," I said.
Ranger chuckled silently and shook his head. I'm acutely aware of how ridiculous I am, but in fairness I have been chased by a pack of rage filled elves before, so the idea that Pennywise might be lurking in the garage isn't as farfetched as you might think.
"So if this person is someone who is usually welcome there, like a friend, they would just have to wait for the car to be out of the driveway."
"That's really going to depend on the friend," Ranger said.
"You make a good point; Lula is one of my closest friends, and she might as well be wearing flashing lights with arrows pointing to her that say, 'Danger!'" I said.
Ranger grinned again, "It works the other way too, it doesn't have to be danger that alerts you, simply anything extraordinary."
"So we're looking for mostly benign people who are often overlooked; like cleaning staff, or someone with access to a maintenance uniform," I said. He nodded.
"I thought someone with dark clothes might take advantage of the way shadows fall on the door, but in this neighborhood dark clothes would stand out more than Lula," I said.
"There is a simpler solution," Ranger said.
"What's that?"
"They might not activate their security systems every time they leave the house," Ranger said.
I went through the file boxes and found the records Ranger printed off during our heist and nearly went cross-eyed. There was a lot of data.
"Hector has access to the database; we'll get the computer to sort it out. I only printed that off to prove I could," Ranger said.
"You know who I'm thinking should be on our suspect list?"
"Roy?"
"Roy. He was the one who provided Chase with the alibis for his staff and presumably himself. Chase isn't likely to question him since he's been here from the beginning and when I was in the office yesterday, I saw Morelli's name on the Proscribed list. So how did he get in with just a driver's license? I'm willing to bet Roy had something to do with that."
"I was going to ask Morelli how he got onto the premises. Did he say how he knew we were?"
"Didn't think to ask him that, but I know he used charm to get onto the boardwalk."
"Of that I have no doubt," Ranger said dryly, "Roy is the only one with the clearance to add or remove someone from the Proscribed database."
"But Morelli could have used his badge," I said.
"He supposed to need a court order. I'm going to have to speak to Billy about our list. Morelli is more pain in the ass than real threat, but if Roy's put everyone on our Proscribed list onto the Wave Through list, we're going to have to step up Rangeman's presence, and you're going to move with a Bodyguard."
"That'll be fun," I said.
"Just until we can be certain no one else was waved in. Would you prefer Hal or Cal while I'm out?" he asked.
"Either one; though Cal's flaming skull tattoo isn't going to win him any friends here," I said.
"Hal it is," Ranger said, "I also want to check out the area surrounding the crime scenes; we know our UNSUB is watching the victims, I want to see if I can determine from where."
"It's been weeks; odds are if there was anything to find it's gone now," I said.
"I know, but it's worth a look anyway," Ranger said, "I'm not putting much stock in those reports given Roy's somewhat questionable conduct."
"The big question there is, if he put everyone from our Naughty List onto our Nice List, did he do it because he was worried about losing his job, or did he do it because he was afraid of getting caught doing something he shouldn't?"
"Or was there no malicious intent and it was an honest mistake?" Ranger said with a humorless smile.
"Yeah, and maybe my mother isn't three sheets to the wind and ironing my father's shirts right now, but I don't think it's likely."
"You told your mother about us?" Ranger asked. It occurred to me that we weren't following our usual conversational style. Ranger was far more ordered than this, and we were kind of all over the place. He probably figured I wouldn't be able to focus at the moment, so he was just going where my brain was taking us.
"I told my grandmother," I said, "I'm surprised she hasn't called... oh wait I forgot! My cell has been randomly blocking people; I don't think it made the complete recovery we thought it did."
"Give it to Hector," Ranger said.
All of the talking was starting to make my whole head throb; I needed more drugs and a nap. Stupid Joe. As if the thought conjured him, Morelli came out onto the patio.
He eyed the map and the pictures on the table, "Planning a heist?"
"That was last night," I said
"Usually, I can tell when you're joking; right now I honestly can't, and I'm afraid you might be telling the truth," Morelli said, "I'm going to blame the drugs for my inability to differentiate and go with 'joke' on this one."
"That's what I would do," I said.
"Jesus Stephanie..."
"How did you know we were on the boardwalk?" I asked, changing the subject before he could add to my headache.
"I had your address," Morelli said, "When I came by here earlier, Jazzercise Barbie told me she saw you arguing and thought it was probably better if I came back tomorrow."
"Nadia was here?" I said.
"Something about leaving you a note in the door," Joe said, "I wasn't really paying that much attention."
"What did you say your reason for coming was?" I asked.
"I said I had information about a case you were working," Joe said, "I'm not an idiot; I wasn't about to risk putting you in jeopardy by blowing your cover."
I went to the front door and opened it; a Barbie pink envelope dropped to the front step, and I picked it up. The stock was heavy, undoubtedly expensive and had Nadia's return address stamped in the top left-hand corner in a glossy pink pearl ink. She'd addressed the letter to 'Stephie.'
I have a lot of nicknames. I think people think Stephanie is too formal for me; most people only use it when they are angry or emphasizing a point. Most of the nicknames just rolled off my back, some I got used to with time and then there was 'Babe' which had pretty much become a conversational art form by this point. All of that information is critical in understanding that when I say I hate being called Stephie, I don't mean it's a generalized hate, like a loathing of Mondays, but that it actually makes my skin crawl. You can't say 'Stephie' without immediately wanting to follow it with 'Weffie', and you can't say Stephie-Weffie without then immediately saying the next few syllables in baby talk. It gets worse with drunkenness and if it happens during sex, well then it's just embarrassing for both parties, and it's an effective mood killer.
I brought the letter back to the dining room and opened it. I tossed the envelope onto the table and heard Joe snicker and then stifle a groan of pain. "Ranger, you can stop smiling too," I said.
"At least she didn't spell it S-T-E-F-F-Y-E," Ranger said.
"There's that," I said. The paper, like the envelope, was high quality, only it was pristine white. When I unfolded the letter, I was confronted by a stylized metallic hot pink 'N' with weird curly things surrounding it. The paper was bordered in the same metallic pink and she'd written her note in a sparkly pink ink. "At what point does this much pink go from childish to eccentric?"
"Babe," Ranger said.
The letter was informing me that due to some hiccup that DeeDee hadn't been totally clear about, the party was moving to Nadia's house and was no longer a Barbecue but a sushi buffet and pool party.
"I forgot about the party," I groaned and handed the letter to Ranger, "Now I want to go even less than I did before."
"You aren't going. In half an hour you're taking a painkiller and then you are going to pass out," Ranger said. He looked at Morelli, "Steph has maybe fifteen minutes left before her brain isn't going to be good for anything beyond binge-watching reality television. What did you learn?"
"He would know," I said, "He probably had someone work out an exact formula looking at adrenaline expenditure, levels of stress, and pain as a result of said stress. He probably factors in alcohol consumption too."
"Ten minutes," Ranger amended and Joe nodded his agreement.
"I spoke to my contacts in organized crime," Joe said, "Nobody knows why Nicky is out of town. Terri said she'd know if there was a hit; Harry and Vito have been doing a lot of work together lately, and she swears she would have heard something. Since I trust her about as far as I can throw her, I've checked in with someone who is deep under cover; he's got nothing. I gather Connie didn't have anything?"
"She didn't just yet, she's making phone calls, but my grandmother might have something. She says that Nicky has a house in Princeton," I said, "Do either of you know anything about that?"
"It isn't in any information we have," Joe said. He looked at Ranger.
"It's not in ours either," Ranger said, "How reliable is this information?"
"Grandma said that Loretta from the beauty parlor sees him once every couple of weeks in the supermarket or something. At least he did until Thanksgiving; she hasn't seen him since then," I said.
"I wonder if the feds have ever considered using Edna as an intelligence asset?" Morelli said.
"They do have a file," Ranger said.
"I don't think that's a joke," I said.
"Our drugs are wearing off," Morelli said, "It's throwing everything off."
Ranger walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. He wrapped the peas in a tea towel and brought them out to me. He gently positioned it on my face and put my hand over it to keep it in place. It took the edge off a bit; Morelli he let suffer.
"I don't think Nicky is here because of our case; it's not exactly the mobs style," I said.
"I agree, but I don't like the coincidence of him showing up here while we are here. Especially since we know the Feds are keeping an eye on Vinnie right now," Ranger said.
"I'm going to kill Eddie," Morelli said.
"He's family; he was looking out for me," I said. I looked at Ranger, "Now what do we do?"
"Now we wait for Connie," Ranger said.
"I'm going to need you to keep me in the loop on this," Joe said, "The FBI and TPD are more than a little interested in his presence here. They are hoping that he and Harry have had a falling out, and if that's the case, they want me to bring him in so they can turn him."
"I think the chances of Nicky and Harry falling out without everybody knowing about it, are about as likely as Stephanie becoming a vegetarian," Ranger said.
"No fucking way that's happening," Joe said. He had that right.
"We'll have to take Joe off of our proscribed list," I said to Ranger. He didn't look especially pleased by the idea, but he agreed.
"Where are you staying?" Ranger asked.
"I hadn't really thought that far," Morelli said. For a terrible moment, I thought Ranger was going to offer to let him stay here. He picked his phone up off of the table and dialed.
"I need a room and I'm going to need you to give one of my men access to install a secure phone line," Ranger said, waited for a beat and hung up.
"You're staying at the resort two miles from here," Ranger said, "It's pricey, but it's all inclusive and it's as close as you're going to get to staying in the community, so your bosses will have to deal with it."
"Thanks. I'm going to need access to all of the public areas and less conspicuous wheels."
"I'll get you set up tomorrow," Ranger said with a nod.
Ranger's cell rang, and he looked at the readout, "It's for you."
"Really?" I said as he handed me the phone.
"It's Connie."
I answered "Hello?"
"Ranger, you're voice has changed," Connie said.
"He gave me his phone," I said.
"I was looking for you anyway; your cell isn't working." she said.
"What's up?"
"So here's what I can get from my contacts, Nicky has a daughter that nobody knew about until last year except Nicky and Mrs. The Sparrow. She's a senior at FSU and doesn't know that daddy is connected."
"Grandma says they have a house in Princeton?"
"Yup," Connie said, "Doesn't show up in anything because the house is Mortgaged in one of her aunt's names."
"What's the name of the Aunt?"
"Gloria Bianchi," Connie said. I scribbled the name down on one of the post-its, "The wife's name is Andreana Moretti."
That was Nicky's last name; I could never remember it. I wrote it down too and handed both names to Ranger. He took them his laptop and ran a search on both of them.
"What else did you get?"
"A story you ain't never going to believe, but I got it from three different sources. So a few years back his daughter moves to Florida, but she gets real homesick right, she's a real momma's girl. So Mrs. The Sparrow gets this membership to this club, and so her baby girl doesn't have to miss her mother too much, Andreana spends one week a month in Florida staying at the hotel. They go shopping, catch each other up on everything, the usual female bonding shit. Then last June, Andreana gets what she thinks is a cold but turns out to be aggressive lung cancer, and she dies by the end of July. The kid (didn't get her name) decides her mother would have wanted her to finish school, so she decides to go back to Florida. She's been having a rough year and her grades are slipping. Nicky, being the good father he is, has decided he needs to pay her a visit because she's obviously missing her momma more than she's letting on."
"Seriously? That's kind of sweet." I said, "Where did you get that from?"
"Mostly Lucile," Connie said, "I guess they were talking about the daughter at dinner one night because Nicky was real worried about her. Harry told him he had to go take care of her, and that he should take as much time as he needs."
"Well that solves that mystery then," I said.
"Not so fast because here's the kicker, he was supposed to be going down for Easter and then a few days ago he suddenly changed his flight and reservations and decided he needed to go down at precisely the same time you left."
"Uh oh."
"So Vinnie called Harry and asked him if the reason for Nicky's sudden departure had anything to do with either of you because he'd pull you back if he had to. Harry told him not to get his panties in a bunch; it's just a coincidence. Besides, he likes you and Ranger. I doubt either of them realize you're staying at the same resort."
"You're sure?"
"I double checked with my family. Both organizations say you and Ranger are hands off. Daddy would tell me if you were in danger." Connie said, "Oh speaking of danger, I should warn you, I think Lula has short sheeted your bed, and she may have saran wrapped your toilet."
"Connie, did you help her? Because that sounds like something you would do," I said.
"It's possible I suggested it while we were at the bar last night," She said, "And I might have given her your key, but I can't actually remember if I did."
I pinched the bridge of my nose and hung up. "Lula is pissed and taking advice from Connie."
"I'll have Tank clear your apartment before you get home," Ranger said. He took the phone from me and put it into his pocket. I filled them in on everything Connie had given me.
"If it's true, we'll know soon enough," Joe said, he eyed the file boxes on the table, their labels were visible, "What are you doing here?"
"Security audit," Ranger said, "I've signed a confidentiality agreement, I can't tell you more. Neither can Stephanie unless compelled by court order. If this turns out to involve Nicky, we'll read you in."
"Fair enough," Joe said. Ranger's phone rang again, he looked at the readout and went into the den.
"How many irons does he have in the fire, exactly?" Joe asked.
"I don't know," I said, "It's Ranger, one minute he's here and the next, he's not."
"Are you sure you can handle that?" Joe asked.
"He wouldn't be Ranger if he didn't have his hero complex," I said.
Ranger came back out of the office, "I need a minute with Stephanie," Ranger said, and Joe went into the house.
"You're leaving," I said.
"I have to go to Miami for a couple of hours; I'll be back tonight," Ranger said, "Hal is going to take Morelli to his hotel, and then he's going to come back here to keep an eye on you. I want you to set the Rangeman alarm before you go to bed."
"How scared should I be?" I asked.
"You shouldn't be," Ranger said, "Nicky isn't here to whack us, at most he's here to keep an eye on us. As for the other thing, I'll get Billy to check to make sure nobody else was waved through, and then I'll have some men sweep the area. Make sure you don't take your watch off and don't leave the house until I get back. If you need anything, call me, and I'll get Hector to get it for you." His phone chirped in his pocket, and he pulled it out again. He checked the readout again, "That's going to be a problem. I might be longer than I thought, my phone will be on all night," he said and did a quick weapons check.
"Before you go, I need to ask you a very important question, about this wedding thing," I said.
"What's that?" he asked as he holstered his weapons.
"Are you doing anything Thursday?" I asked.
"I'll find a priest."