The characters below were created by JE, not me.
Fredda (Rangergirl1234) I can't say enough to let the world know how much your work as the beta on this story means. You make sense out of my chaos and I thank you.
Chapter 10 – More Questions than Answers
Vince's POV
"Vince, Stephanie," Maggie called out to us as we entered the dance studio for our third lesson. We'd finished off the waltz lesson on Tuesday night and had begun working on our tango. I thought Steph and I did a good job of picking it up and I was surprised at how much was involved in these dances that look so simple when you're watching them.
"Hi Maggie," Steph returned her greeting, keeping her hand firmly clasped in mine. "What do you have in store for us tonight?"
"We're going to finish up the tango and try doing it to some popular music instead of just the canned traditional soundtrack we've been learning to," Maggie explained.
That sounded fine to me. I was a fan of this dance from the moment Maggie started explaining it on Tuesday night. Admittedly oversimplified, she said the waltz was all about the man leading his partner, showcasing her beauty and providing the structure for his woman to mold herself around. It was fun and I loved having Steph in my arms going where I led, but it wasn't a dance that truly fit our personalities.
When Maggie began to introduce the tango I couldn't help but notice the interest in Stephanie's eyes. This dance was more about a conversation – a back and forth of temptation, denial, and ultimately conquest. It was a vertical discussion about sex, but it wasn't meant to mirror the act, just the foreplay and innuendo of it. Depending upon your personality, some people thought about it as dance that was a heated debate or argument with their partner that would end with the seduction of one or the other of the dancers. I was hooked and the dark blue hue of Steph's eyes told me she was too.
When we began in the last session Maggie kept the steps simple just trying to get people accustomed to a basic pattern. Tonight we were going to expand that and begin to explore the back and forth nature of the dance. From the moment Maggie started the music and began calling out moves and instructions, I was mesmerized. Holding Steph to me in a dance like a waltz was wonderful; our bodies fit and she moved so smoothly with me. But, spinning her away and then pulling her back to me and performing moves where her body moved in the opposite direction instead of in concert with mine was a new experience.
By the end of the hour and half class I found that every time I let her go to move away from me I yearned to feel the moment when our bodies would reconnect and then move together once more. It was like a battle of withdrawal and yearning repeated over and over again. When we were finished I was sweating, battling a raging hard on, and worried how I'd ever get through the night if she curled up on me again as had become our custom.
Tonight's class went well beyond a good workout and I had to agree- this dance was foreplay and I was concerned about how to act around Steph once we left the studio. Before I had a chance to worry too much I noticed Maggie had pulled Steph over to the side in front of the mirrors away from the other students who were quickly packing up and leaving. None of them seemed really into this dance and I couldn't imagine how you could be so unaffected by it with the woman you were going to be marrying soon.
When we were the only people left I walked over to the glass where they were talking and put my hand at Steph's back. I was just trying to alert her to my presence but I was pleased that she seemed to melt into me by leaning into my side when I stepped beside her.
I missed the start of their conversation so I listened quietly, not wanting to interrupt if Steph was making any progress.
"I was thinking about the two of you after Tuesday's class and I hope I didn't overstep but I talked to my brother about you," Maggie was saying tentatively.
"What about?" Steph asked completely innocent sounding, but I could feel her body tighten up slightly against mine. I rubbed my hand up and down her arm to help her relax.
"I know you said you couldn't get married until you had a little money saved up and after watching you guys on the dance floor I can't stand the thought of finances keeping two people apart who are so perfectly suited for each other." I almost believed Maggie's sincerity.
"I appreciate your concern about our finances, but I guess we aren't the only couple trying to make ends meet," Steph responded, trying to keep things light.
"Raoul mentioned that he could use some help with his business here in Trenton, and if you're interested, I think the time involved and the money it would earn would be well worth it," Maggie was gaining momentum with her pitch now.
"Does he need part-time help?" Steph asked, trying to draw out the information we needed.
"Sort of. He needs someone familiar with the area that can make some deliveries around town for him. They would be small boxes and you would have no more than one delivery maybe three or four times a week," Maggie added to her sales pitch.
"That sounds easy enough. I definitely know my way around, but if it's that's easy I can't imagine it would bring in much money," Steph was playing the part of interested but skeptical perfectly.
"Raoul is a chemist so he creates compounds that are highly sought after and very expensive. They have to be handled carefully and delivered with specific instructions and if he can find someone that is capable of making the drop-offs in a dependable way, he will pay a thousand dollars for every drop off." Maggie said. The way she described his work, it almost sounded noble.
I decided I needed to jump in and I whistled lowly before saying, "For that kind of money it almost sounds like he's making drugs."
Maggie blushed slightly, as though she were uncomfortable with the word drug. "Some of his products are pharmaceuticals. But this is a legitimate business he's running. He is very particular about how the packages are handled though so if you can't follow his directions explicitly then this probably isn't a good idea for you." Yea, I thought. It's so legitimate that he'll pay us big bucks under the table and beat the shit out of Stephanie if she delivers a box that is open.
I knew I couldn't let my real opinion show so I looked down at Steph and said, "It's up to you. This sounds too good to be true, but it would be nice to have that kind of money in our pockets before the summer is out."
Steph looked back at Maggie and asked, "Would I meet with Raoul to learn about his business and what he needs? I think to be comfortable with this I'd need to talk to him myself."
Maggie made a face and replied, "I told him I'd talk to you about it tonight and let him know. Maybe I can get him to meet you here next week after class and you three can discuss it together then. Like I said, this is his business and I have nothing to do with it. I just wanted to help you."
Steph put a hand on Maggie's and told her, "We really appreciate you thinking of us. If your brother has time to meet with us we would be very interested. Anything that could help us move forward would be a miracle."
Maggie looked at her hands where Steph's was resting on top and spoke down to the contact. "It's not often that I get to teach a couple like you two and I hope this works out for you."
I believed that she truly wanted to be helpful but knowing that she had to realize what she was getting us into made it hard to cut her much slack for her generous offer.
We chatted for a few more minutes before gathering our things and leaving. As was our custom, we stopped for some dinner on our way back to her apartment and between bites of her bacon cheeseburger Steph asked what I thought about Maggie's offer.
"I think it's coming together a lot faster than I anticipated. I wasn't aware of anyone else meeting Raoul so this is probably the breakthrough we needed to get somewhere with this case." I told her, hoping she could hear the pride in my voice for the masterful job she'd done in manipulating the situation.
"There was something about her comment at the end that made me a little uneasy; when she wouldn't look at me and she told us she hoped it worked out for us. I got the feeling she wasn't talking about the money," Steph admitted.
"I thought the fact that she wouldn't look at you then was pretty telling too. Either way, we'll tell Tank about this tomorrow and see how he wants to play it," I summed up stealing a fry from her plate, despite having a few left of my own.
She smacked my hand with a smile on her face but she didn't try to take it back so I pushed it in my mouth in one big bite and winked at her. She laughed at my over the top flirting and we got off the case and started talking about the upcoming weekend.
"Now that it seems like we're getting closer to where we need to be we can't take any chances with our cover so I think we need to plan on spending as much time together this weekend as possible," she told me.
I had no problem with that because it would give me an excuse to avoid the guys at the office. Facing the crowd in Pino's watching our every move was nothing compared to the way I could feel them watching me for any little mistake I might make in how I treated her so they could swoop in and set me straight. Honestly, I was tired of working under a microscope.
We hadn't planned on spending every night together but since the day of her car exploding we had some how managed to only miss one night. The guys noticed and it seemed like I had somebody interrupting my workout every morning to remind me how much they thought of Stephanie and how me yanking her chain would severely punished.
That was another odd phrase I never understood. What kind of chain are we talking about? A large link steel chain would grow taunt but no damage would be done, so what is the deal? I guess one of those thin beaded chains like you pull to turn on a ceiling fan would break pretty easily, but how do either of those options relate to leading someone on?
I realized chains had nothing to do with our weekend plans so I tried to get back to the subject at hand by asking, "Anything you want to do?" I wondered. I mean if we needed to spend time together, there was no rule against enjoying it.
She used her tongue to capture a stream of juice from her burger that was escaping in a trail down her smallest finger. Damn, I had just gotten myself under control from the dance class and she had to start licking herself in front of me.
Finally she gave a little moan, only worsening my condition, before shaking her head and saying, "I don't have anything that I'm set on doing, but I guess I should spend a little time at my parent's house. It's been a week and past history has taught me that my mom is worse if I go too long without dropping by."
She sounded as though she'd rather have a root canal than face her mother again. "We could stop by for lunch tomorrow. It might help if we aren't there for dinner, and an unannounced mid-day drop by might give you the upper hand." She sat back wiping her hands on the napkin that had been resting in her lap and seemed to be thinking over my idea.
"That might work," she admitted as though the idea hadn't occurred to her. I smiled at the thought of helping her strategize for a change. "Besides, if we're there at lunch there's a greater chance Grandma Mazur will be out."
And there we go; I no longer had to worry about the growing problem under the table. Just the mention of her grandmother's name was enough to undo my response to Steph's eating.
"Is there anything you want to do?" She turned the question back to me. I wondered how she would respond to something that had been bugging me.
I must have paused for a minute too long because she got that look in her eye that told me she wasn't going to give up until I told her. "There is something, but I don't know how you'll react to it."
"Look, you've been great, going along with everything for this assignment. Even if I don't like it, I'd go along with anything to thank you for doing this with me," she foolishly announced. While I appreciated the fact that she seemed to think she owed me some type of gratitude for the work done so far, I felt she had the tables reversed in a big way.
"I want to take you to Haywood, to the second floor," I told her watching her eyes change in shock at what I was suggesting.
"But the only thing there is the armory and the gun range," she said not getting the obvious.
I waited and then the realization of what I wanted hit her. "Did Ranger put you up to this?" She began to build up a head of steam.
"No, but I couldn't help but notice that you have a revolver that you dutifully carry in your purse most days, but it's not loaded, nor is it accessible. So really it's only in there to weight down your bag." I began laying out my logic.
She blushed slightly and grasped at a straw, "So you want me to watch you shoot at the range?"
I shook my head no and said, "I want to teach you how to shoot."
"I've already been taught how to shoot," she replied as though that would stop me from pushing the issue.
"Then it won't take long if you already know it all. But we're partners, and I promised to protect you. I consider this part of taking care of you because you need to be able to defend yourself should something happen during this job," I said not giving her all my reasons.
"You're not going to start turning into a life coach are you, and demanding I be all I can be and making me eat healthy?" She said around a bite of her burger.
I looked at the remnants of my own plate and replied, "That would be rather hypocritical of me wouldn't it?"
"No running," she said as though this were a business negotiation.
"Who said anything about working out? I just want to work on your comfort level with a gun," I defended before adding, "Plus the guys will believe our relationship even more if they see me pushing you to learn about your weapon and if they see you accepting my offer to work with you. Our lives are dangerous and a relationship is only possible if our partner takes the necessary steps to protect themselves if needed."
"That's funny, I didn't think relationships in this business were possible at all," she said softly with a large dose of bitterness. It didn't suit her and it was the first time I'd heard that tone from her mouth, so I couldn't let it go.
"What does that mean?" I asked and she looked up with her face fire engine red, as though she hadn't intended to speak out loud.
Her head hit the back of the booth and she shook it hard enough I was afraid her marbles would come loose. I wonder how long that expression had been around? I mean, there was never a time when human heads made noises so why people thought marbles lived in our skulls is beyond me. And from the pictures I've seen and some of the scenes I've come across in the Rangers, the human brain doesn't look like small round balls, so there was never a basis for that expression. It's a wonder we're able to communicate at all with so many weird idioms that don't hold any relevant meaning.
She jerked her head up and said, "Ranger once told me that his life didn't lend itself to relationships."
"What does that mean?" I asked totally confused.
Her forehead wrinkled in the cutest way before she tried to explain my boss. "It means, because of the danger in his life that he can't have a real relationship. He can never be open and honest about what he's doing, or what he's done. And he would never risk getting close to someone because it might put their life in danger and he isn't willing to take that chance."
I listened to every word she said and I understood the meaning of each one, but together they made no sense to me. "But what good is a life lived if you have no one to share it with?"
She smiled but her eyes didn't light up when she asked, "What are you, a fortune cookie?"
"No, it's something my Nonna used to say," I said using the Italian term for grandmother. "I can't speak for Ranger," I finally started, realizing this needed to be discussed because it clearly impacted how she looked at all of us at RangeMan. "He's seen and done stuff that the rest of us haven't. I have some enemies that I'm sure would be glad to leverage anything they could to lord over me, but I refuse to let that keep me from living my life. I have to be a little more careful. Since you are being seen with me, I am more careful about your safety too."
Steph interrupted me and pointed out, "Yes, I think he understood that, but he had built some walls around himself that he couldn't tear down, even if he wanted to. I think when he finally told me we'd never be more than we are now, it was his way of admitting that to himself and helping me to move on. I just assumed you were all like that to a certain degree."
"I can't speak for all the guys, but I certainly don't look at the world that way. I don't let everybody in; that would be foolish. But you, for example, are one of the few people that I think of as trustworthy and I know you would never betray me or try to hurt me because you have learned about me and know my weaknesses. So you I let in." I told her hoping she understood the full extent of what I was saying.
"I'm in?" She asked as though she couldn't really believe what I was saying.
I chuckled lightly. "Of course. Do you think I spend this much time talking to everybody?" I couldn't believe she didn't realize how close I actually felt to her. Usually I held back, unwilling to let a woman have any type of advantage with me. Hell, it had been years since I'd spent more than a single night with a woman. But with Steph, I couldn't keep that same kind of distance. What we had was way beyond just a normal partner relationship, but I wasn't exactly sure what it was and I didn't think now was the time to confuse things by figuring it out either.
"You can be chatty," she said with a hint of teasing in her voice. Then she dropped the humor and asked, "How did you know you could trust me?"
"Steph I know I can trust you for the same reason that I know the sun will come up in the morning. Experience has taught me that the sun can be depended on and watching you over the last three years has taught me that you are just as dependable. You'd never intentionally hurt me," I tried explaining, feeling like I wasn't doing a good job.
"I wouldn't," she assured me quietly.
"I know that," I agreed. Then I couldn't help but add, "And one day I hope you'll believe that I wouldn't intentionally hurt you either."
Her eyes jumped up and met mine. "I think I know that already, but old habits are hard to break."
"Ah," I understood what she was saying. "You know the trick to that?"
"What?" She asked, sensing I was lightening the conversation and not pushing her somewhere she wasn't ready to go yet.
"Replace them with different habits," I answered, standing up and throwing the money for our dinner on the table. "That, and lots of ice cream."
"Vince, I'm starting to think that ice cream is your solution to just about everything," she laughed taking my hand as we walked to the truck. I didn't think frozen sugar would solve everything, but it certainly helped you deal with the problems that it couldn't fix.
We went through our routine when we arrived at her apartment and were climbing into bed an hour later. I stretched out my arm and she slid into her spot on my chest where I knew she would still be in the morning.
Friday I had a late shift so after breakfast together in the break room I didn't expect to see her until Saturday morning when she'd agreed to come over to Haywood for a bite to eat and a lesson at the range before lunch with her parents. I was determined to get her comfortable with her gun. I didn't have any illusions of turning her into Annie Oakley, but I didn't want her to get hurt if a simple hour or two in the range could have prevented it.
So when I arrived at the office at 0100 Friday night/Saturday morning, I was shocked to see her sitting in her cubicle typing madly at her computer. I went to the control room and asked Binkie what was going on.
He shrugged and answered, "She came in about 2200 hours said she needed to do some work or she'd never be able to turn off her brain enough to sleep…what ever that means," he added showing how little he understood her. "She sat down then and has been working and talking to herself for the last three hours."
I thanked him for the info and when Brett told me to go see what was wrong with her and that he'd file the paperwork from our take down, I gladly accepted his offer.
I walked up to her cubicle and realized she was so focused she probably had no idea I was there. I had a bottle of coke I'd gotten before we returned for the night so I sat it rather forcefully on her desk to get her attention in the hope of not scaring her.
She spun around and looked confused when she saw me. "I thought you had a late shift."
I looked at my watch and said, "I did, it's after one in the morning. How much later did you want me to work?"
"Shit," she replied making me smile. "I didn't realize it was that late."
"What are you working on?" I asked as she accepted the coke and began to take a long sip from the bottle I had just been drinking from.
"I was thinking about Maggie and Raoul and their sudden interest in Trenton from Miami and I couldn't let go of the possibility that there was a connection that we needed to know about to help," she explained.
I pulled a chair from the cubicle beside hers and sat beside her to ask, "What did you find?"
"More questions than answers," she said sitting back and stretching her neck from side to side in a motion I'd done many time when my shoulders hurt from tension.
"Come here," I said turning her chair so that her back was to me. I began to rub her shoulders, feeling the knots and hearing a quick intake of breath when I hit a particularly tender spot.
"Relax," I whispered. "I'll keep working some of this out and you tell me what questions you came up with."
She began explaining how she found the sister of Maggie's mother had been receiving regular payments of two thousand dollars every month from an account she couldn't get any details on other than it being in Maggie's name. According to the background check she lived in a small home with no mortgage and was nearly eighty years old with a nice little nest egg making the money from Maggie rather odd.
She also found a newspaper article from the Miami Herald six months before the sudden relocation of the drug operation that spoke of the tragic death of a three year old boy in a car accident. When she pulled up the picture there were several people at the scene of the crash and one of them bore a remarkable likeness to our dance instructor. If it was Maggie she looked distraught, as though the child that had died had been her own. But the background check she ran didn't show any children or significant relationships for her.
The old Aunt was being treated for glaucoma and had weekly visits with an eye specialist on the other side of town. The doctor was young and didn't have any impressive credentials that explained why she went so far away regularly for an eye condition that didn't typically require such regular monitoring.
Steph was right; she was turning up more questions than answers. I didn't have a sixth sense for this kind of stuff the way the guys referred to Steph and her spidey sense, but even to me this seemed more than coincidental. I could usually feel a threat if it was physically present, but to piece the clues together and know where to dig showed she was clearly in her element.
She hissed as my thumb pressed into the largest knot once more. Unfortunately, I didn't take the time to edit my words before saying, "You know if I had you stretched out in bed, I could work on this better."
Cal walked by and said, "I don't even want to know what you need to work on. It's bad enough you got the girl but now you're flaunting it in our faces too." He was laughing when he said it, but I knew him well enough to know there was a hint of truth in there too.
"I'm sorry, Steph. I didn't mean anything inappropriate by that." I tried to convince her.
She laughed and began to gather up the papers and shutting down her computer. "I know that, but it's getting late and I should probably get back to my apartment."
"I can take you," I offered and then amended my thought by saying, "Or you could just come down to my apartment and stay there. It's late and I've got a shirt you can use." I had noticed since I'd been staying at her place that she was now exclusively wearing my t-shirts to sleep in anyway. I figured between the two of us we could figure out something for her to wear tomorrow too.
She yawned before she could answer so I figured she would agree. "Will it be awkward?" She asked much softer.
"Will what be awkward?" I wondered. This wasn't the first night we'd slept together. It was a little late to wonder about that now.
"The guys knowing I stayed with you overnight," she explained with a beautiful shade of rose touching her cheeks.
"Bella, they know I've been staying at your place for a while now so if they have a problem with us spending the night together I don't think which bed we sleep in is the issue." I explained, suddenly wanting her to stay in my apartment for some reason.
I would never force her to do it, but I wondered what it would be like to have her sleeping in my bed; to feel her presence in a place where I'd always been alone.
Steph stood up and spun around announcing, "Alright, you've convinced me. Take me to bed now."
Before I could react to the words I hadn't expected, Brett walked by and mumbled, "Lucky bastard." While I didn't appreciate the name calling, he had a point. Even a fictional relationship with Stephanie made me one hell of a lucky guy and I recognized that any time I got to spend with her, regardless of the reason, was a gift.