Thanks to those who reviewed last chapter. To the person who reviewed anonymously, the previous chapter is not "missing" the part where Steph actually told Ranger. I deliberately skipped over it having decided it would be too tedious. To Two Guns and a Knife, you have provided much amusement for me and Shreek over the past couple of days, but I hope you've realised that I get more done when not in the midst of a PM war. I will now resume reading your fanfic (which I did actually put on hold to wriite this chapter. Yeah, you're welcome). *Quickly tosses chapter to rabid fans* (Shreek made me write that).

Chapter 10

"So you're a consultant?" I asked, attempting to fill the sudden silence. "That's pretty cool. Seems a bit like my Mom's work, only the topic is infinitely cooler if you ask me. I mean, hello? Organisation? Excuse me while I snore. Mystery solving, on the other hand. Now that is something I could pay attention to."

"I don't exactly solve mysteries," Steph corrected. "I just-."

Lester cut into the conversation, talking over top of whatever Steph had been about to say. "Don't listen to her. She solves mysteries all the time. Just last week she solved the mystery of who'd been eating all the leftovers from the break room fridge."

Steph, I noticed, sent him a look that was half eye roll and half glare, a peculiar combination, but certainly beyond my comprehension. I guess I had to be there to understand.

"Anyway," Hank interrupted, sliding Lester's laptop over so that it now sat in front of himself. "We're here to crack a different case. The case of Amabel's mother and her reason for being here." He tapped away at the laptop and brought up the office we'd been in yesterday with the massive Tank. Now he was in there with Mom. And Mom wasn't looking nearly as nervous as she had on the screen yesterday. Why was that?

"We'll keep that running silently," Lester explained, getting up and wheeling my chair around so that it was right next to Hanks. "In the meantime, we've got some bits and pieces we need to confirm with you from the previous meetings."

For the next twenty minutes they showed me clips of Mom talking to various employees, by which I mean clips from the meetings she'd already had with the employees, and asked me questions about Mom and life and stuff. It was all pretty straightforward, except there was something weird about the sound recording with the clips. It kept cutting out when Mom seemed to mention the person she was trying to get in contact with. How strange is that? Every single time. Eventually I managed to find a hole in the conversation where I could ask about it.

"Why does the sound always cut out when she says the person's name?" I asked, looking up at Hank and Lester. They seemed to be the ones in charge on this. Hal was a bit of a gopher guy and Steph was pretty much just observing without comment.

Surprisingly, Lester and Hank looked to Steph before Hank replied, "We thought it would be safer if you didn't know the name of the person. You never know what could happen, you know?"

No, I didn't know, but I nodded my agreement anyway. I didn't think I could persuade them to tell me the name of the person Mom was trying to get a hold of when they're sprouting off that logic. So I turned to Steph, who, I noticed, quickly looked away and pretended not to have been staring at me.

Odd.

"What do you think, Steph?" I asked, turning back to face the table and take a drink of the water they had provided me with. Then something hit me. I had no idea what kind of consultant she was. I'd assumed she was part of the mystery solving team, but maybe she wasn't. She hadn't added in a single comment on the findings we'd made today. Maybe she was actually a supervisor. Maybe these guys weren't actually allowed to be alone with minors. With that thought in mind I immediately got up and moved my chair further away from them. I watched as Steph, too, moved her chair back to the table so that we were no longer crowded in the one corner. She looked at me curiously.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yep. Fine." Freaked, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional. Yep. That's me. Take the first letter of each word and they spell fine. See? F-I-N-E. "So what do you think about my Mom?"

Steph sighed and leaned forward her fingers twitching in the direction of the muffins still in the middle of the table. "I think she's desperate to contact this person and all this hoop jumping is getting to her. She doesn't deal well under pressure and given that things are not going to her plans at the moment, I'd say she's under enormous pressure."

"What do you suggest?" Hank enquired, for the first time not typing on the laptop. Jeez, he was like those kids who text all the way through class. Not me. I totes don't text through class. It wastes too much credit. I find it far more economical to eBuddy through class. By which I mean I soooo pay attention in class.

"Grant her limited access to the person," Steph was saying. "Supervised, of course. We don't want to leave a gaping access hole for her to-." She broke off when she caught sight of my face. I'm not sure what it looked like, but it felt like I was wide eyed. Mouth was closed, thankfully. But whatever she saw made her stop.

"Right," Lester inserted, clearly tense. "Supervised access to be on the safe side. Gotcha."

They were implying that Mom might be dangerous. That was at once hard to believe and worrying. Was I safe with her? Was anyone I made contact with? Was Mom some kind of vigilante? Crap. I can't deal with all these uncertainties. Double crap. That's what Mom always says. Please don't tell me I'm turning out to be like Mom after all? I don't want to obsess over miniscule details! I want to be free!

All of a sudden there was a warm hand on the back of my neck. The thumb was rubbing soothing circles. With my eyes practically popping out of my head from the contact from behind when I could see all the people who had been in the room with me, I took a deep shuddering breath. "That's it, kiddo, breathe," came a deep, smooth voice from above me. "Deep breaths. There's nothing to fear. We won't let anyone hurt you."

"Umm..." I managed to murmur. "Who are you?"

The hand left the back of my neck and the chair next to me was pulled out and quickly filled with a tall Latino man with dark brown eyes, dark brown shoulder length hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and the same black uniform as everyone else. Hell, let's just cut the crap and say he was dark. And kinda scary with his cool, calm and collected attitude. Is rude of me to think of him as cucumber guy? As in cool as a cucumber? Too bad, I'd already thunk it.

Lester burst into hysterical laughter. Slapping his knee. Banging on the table. All that jazz.

Blinking, I looked over at him, then to the others in the room, including cucumber guy. There was humour in his gaze. Steph was looking at me in a kind of half pity, half humoured way. And Hank and Hal had their mouths covered and the heads turned so I couldn't see them.

"What?" I finally questioned.

Steph glared at Lester and Cucumber Guy then looked back to me. "You were thinking outloud," she informed me apologetically. "This is Ricardo Carlos Manoso. Or Ranger. My husband. And the owner of this company."

"Ranger. Rangeman," I muttered. "Makes sense." I stuck my hand out for him to shake. "Nice to meet you sir."

Lester, having sobered up some, interjected, "See? I told you she could be respectful. She'd be great on the answering line, don't you think?"

"We're not hiring her, Les," Steph admonished.

Ranger stared into my eyes and spoke as if neither Lester nor his wife had spoken. "It's nice to meet you too, Amabel. How are you finding my team?"

Taken aback, I had to blink several times in an attempt to engage my brain in some actual thinking action. "Um, they're okay, I guess," I mumbled, trying to look away. Why was he asking me about his team? Was he looking for a good review when this was through? "They haven't hurt me or anything."

The corners of his eyes crinkled like he was smiling, but that was the only indication. "Good," he said. "They weren't supposed to hurt you. How old are you, by the way?"

"Sixteen," I informed him, glancing over my shoulder to Hank and Lester (Hal was mysteriously missing). "I'll be seventeen in the spring."

He nodded. "Still in school?"

Across the table, Steph sighed loudly. "Of course she's still in school, Carlos. She's sixteen, not stupid."

"Relax, Babe. We're just talking." He turned to face me again. "You don't mind if we just chat for a while, do you?" I shook my head, afraid of what could happen if I refused. "Great. Are you doing well in school?"

"Carlos, what are you up to?" Steph demanded, leaning forward and propping her arms on the table. "You know all these details, you've got them in a file on your desk. Why are you intimidating the girl?"

My eyes widened. They have my details and history in a file on his desk?

"I just thought I'd get to know her personally," Ranger replied calmly. "Since it looks like I'll be seeing a lot more of her now."

I felt like I was at a tennis match, or possibly a ping-pong match. My head swivelled between the two so fast that I felt like it was going to snap off like the pieces of those plastic models you get. What on earth were they on about? What had I gotten myself into? Are they crazy? Am I crazy? Oh gods, I hope I'm not saying all this out loud.

Steph rolled her eyes at her husband. "For Christ's sake, Carlos, she's not mine!"

Silence.

Complete and utter silence.

I had no idea what was happening, but I wasn't sure I liked it. All the guys in the room were staring at Steph, and I'm pretty sure I was too. Why would she even need to make that claim? Duh! Of course I wasn't hers. I was Mom's. I thought that was obvious, given that Mom gave birth to me and all. And then there was the fact that I'd grown up under her care. And that I'd only met Steph like two days ago.

I was about to demand the tell me what the hell was going on when Hal (having mysteriously reappeared) spoke up. "Um... But you said you gave birth to her."

WHAT?

"I did," Steph confirmed calmly.

Oooookay... Maybe she was crazy? Mucho loco?

I couldn't take it anymore. The pressure building inside me burst out in a confused rant that was quite possibly screamed at the top of my lungs.

"What in the whole, unholy hell are you on about?" I screeched, kicking back my chair and scrambling to my feet. I had to get to an exit somehow, but no matter how I looked at it I'd have to pass at least two big burly men. I stared straight at Steph. "You didn't give birth to me! Mom did! I'm not your daughter! How could you even think that? You need to have her committed!" The last was yelled at Ranger, although he was looking a little confused himself. "She's delusional! You're all delusional! Why the FRACK would my Mom want your help? This is SICK and TWISTED!" The massive black man from yesterday appeared in the doorway. "OH GOD! LET ME OUT OF HERE! All I wanted to do was go to the beach and perv on hot surfer guys!" I turned to face Steph. "YOU DIDN'T GIVE BIRTH TO ME!"

*o*

Leah was in the middle of answering the behemoth's latest stupid question when she was cut off by the sound of screams coming from somewhere nearby. She sat there with her mouth hung slightly open for a moment as she stared toward the closed door in confusion and worry before returning her attention to Tank. He seemed to be distracted by something on his computer screen.

Glancing up at her, he said softly, "Excuse me a moment," and hurried from the room.

This left Leah alone in the building for the first time. The fact that she'd been watched like a hawk from the moment she entered the front door hadn't escaped her notice. The knowledge had prompted her to begin a plan for if she was ever given the chance to escape. She had to break free and try to find Stephanie herself.

She waited a moment to make sure Tank wasn't coming back before slipping from the room and dashing down the hall the way she'd been brought in. Now she just had to figure out where to look.

Thoughts? Please review.