Chapter Ten
Ranger and Ashlyn stared at the television. It was in split screen mode with the studio journalist interviewing an on-the-scene correspondent.
"Jack, I understand we have some new information concerning the Clara Reid murder."
"Yes, Melinda, we do. It seems that the police are looking for Ricardo Manoso as a person of interest."
A picture of Ranger flashed across the screen.
"Do we know why they want Manoso?"
"According to Charles Reid—the husband, Manoso was having an affair with Clara—his wife. Reid said in an earlier interview that he had been aware of his wife's indiscretions for some time, and that he hoped they would be able to work through their difficulties upon his recent return."
"That's right, I understand he was out of town during that time."
"Yes, he had business out of town."
"Poor man."
"Yes, Melinda, it must be very hard on him to come home to a murdered wife."
"Thank you for that update, Jack." Turning back to the studio cameras, she continued. "We'll keep you informed as this story unfolds. In the meantime, the authorities are asking for any information leading to the apprehension of Manoso."
Ranger watched as a large picture of him appeared on the screen with a phone number underneath of it. He muted the television and turned to Ashlyn. She was still staring at the screen.
"Ashlyn, I never even met the woman…you don't believe I could…."
"Of course not. I saw the killer, remember—medium build, golf shirt and hat. No one could ever accuse you of having a medium build, and you'd look ridiculous in a golf shirt."
They turned back to the television just in time to see the RangeMan building surrounded by news journalists.
Ranger felt his phone vibrate. It was a text from Tank.
Circus here. We've lost several accounts and will most likely lose more. Might be time for a permanent identity modification.
"I have to make a call," he told Ashlyn walking in the next room and closing the door.
"Cadaver, Ranger…I need an alteration…tonight."
"Myself and a woman…slender, about 5'4' or so, long black hair."
After the rather cryptic one-sided conversation, he put his phone back in his pocket. Ranger smiled; Cadaver's lack of conversational skills seemed to match his personality…and, naturally, his name.
Walking back to Ashlyn, he knelt in front of her and took both her hands in his. "Ashlyn, do you trust me?"
"Yes, of course."
"You're going to see some things, maybe have to do some things, tonight that you won't like, but they have to be."
"Like what?"
"Trust me."
She nodded, "always."
Later that night Ranger moved the Camry in front of the house.
At precisely 3:00 AM, he opened the garage door, and a black GMC Savana Cargo Van pulled in. A few seconds later a large man dressed in all black emerged from the van. His face was scared and pitted; everything else was covered in clothing. Even his hands were covered in black latex gloves.
"Cadaver." Ranger nodded a greeting.
"Ranger."
Ranger returned to Ashlyn's side as Cadaver walked through the house.
"The bedroom's going to be the best place. Anything you want to take with you?"
"Not really…just my phone. I'll dispose of it later."
Cadaver and Ranger went to the van and unloaded two black body bags. "Pretty fresh," Cadaver remarked, "shouldn't be too bad." Unzipping them the two men carefully laid each body on the bed...a male and a female. The male was of Cuban descent and was approximately the same height and weight as Ranger. The female resembled Ashlyn in coloring and size.
"Your DNA and finger prints should be all over the house. By the time they find these two," he gestured to the bodies on the bed, "they won't get anything different from them."
Handing each of them a plastic bag, he said, "everything off, clothes, jewelry…everything."
Ashlyn looked wide-eyed at Ranger.
"Whatever it takes," he whispered holding her hand. "I'll walk you through it; just keeping thinking this will save our lives."
A few minutes later, Ashlyn and Ranger stood in front of Cadaver completely nude. "Alright, girly, turn around slowly." She did as instructed looking at Ranger for encouragement the entire time. Cadaver went over her body, touching it lightly.
Ashlyn shivered involuntarily.
"Touch her again and you die," growled Ranger.
Cadaver pulled back his hands. "I'm looking for identification marks. I can elimination their DNA with decomposition and…other things," he smiled apparently thinking of the other things. "Still, it's good if I can leave some identifying feature—something to convince them it is you. Do you wear contact lenses?" he asked looking in her eyes.
Ashlyn nodded.
"Okay take them off and put them in her eyes," he motioned toward the woman's body.
"Me?"
"Yeah…I can't with my gloves, and trust me, girly, you don't want to see my hands."
"Come on, I'll help," volunteered Ranger.
Ashlyn quickly removed her green contacts, rewet them and approached the bed. Her hands were shaking and her fingers were like ice. Ranger moved next to her. He draped an arm around her waist to help steady her, and she quickly inserted the contacts into the woman's still open eyes. Ranger immediately pulled Ashlyn to him and held her tightly.
"This is…arousing," said Cadaver. "I'd love to join in, but I got a job to do."
Ranger stepped away from her and allowed Cadaver to examine him for uniqueness. "Don't even think about it," he mumbled.
"I wouldn't; even I prefer living to dying."
After collecting Ashlyn's purse and Ranger's wallet, Cadaver made a call.
"They're ready."
Turning to Ranger, he continued, "There are two towels in the back of the van...use them or not. I don't give a shit. Your transport should be here soon."
Ranger wrapped a towel around Ashlyn covering her as best he could and draped the second one around his waist.
"Don't worry," he said as he kissed the top of her head. "Cadaver's the best at what he does, and if we do everything right, the cops will think those bodies are ours."
"But won't they see the difference?"
"Not after he gets done with them. Not only will they be unidentifiable. They won't be able to match medical records either. Cadaver is very good at what he does."
"How?"
"Better not to know."
"Those bodies," she violently trembled, "were they killed for us? Did we cause their death?"
He looked at her; she was brave but very vulnerable. "Hard to say…but probably not, usually there are adequate remains that someone wants eliminated; that way, Cadaver can collect money both ways—at least that's his preference."
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a car just outside. Killing the lights, he opened the garage door. A black Chrysler 300 pulled into the garage crowding Cadaver's van. Ranger opened the back door and guided Ashlyn inside. Once inside he folded her tightly in his arms. The driver never turned his head or spoke. The car turned on I-95 and headed west. After about a 10 minute drive on I-95, they veered off and followed some minor roads. Finally, turning onto a dirt road, the car pulled into a private residence surrounded by trees. Ranger and Ashlyn got out, and the Chrysler sped off.
"Interesting," he said watching the car leave. He looped an arm around Ashlyn and guided her to the darkened front door. Ringing the doorbell, they waited.
They were met at the door by a man wearing a Nixon mask. Touching the mask lightly, he explained. "Everyone here is disguised—for our protection, you understand."
Ranger nodded slowly.
Nixon led them down a hall and directed Ashlyn to a door on the left and Ranger to a door on the right. "You can talk to them, if you want, but they won't answer except to maybe nod their heads or shake them. They won't let you hear their voice—like I said…precautionary measure."
When they re-emerged several hours later, the effect was startling. Ranger's thick dark hair was peppered with silver strands, and he wore taut, faded blue jeans over motorcycle boots. His muscles rippled under a skin-tight dark tank top, and a black leather jacket was slung over his right shoulder.
As always, Ashlyn looked stunning. Her beautiful face was surrounded by soft golden blonde hair. Like him, she wore snug faded blue jeans and motorcycle boots. A black lacey halter top just covered her breasts and peaked out from underneath a black leather jacket. Ranger smiled and tucked his arm around her waist under the jacket his hand teasing warmth into her skin. Her dark, smoky-blue eyes sparkled at him.
"You do know, I can't see a thing without my contacts."
"You do know, you won't need to," was his reply.
Nixon ushered them into the garage and handed Ashlyn a suede purse with fringe. "New ID and make-up inside…make sure you know who you are before leaving." He passed Ranger a wallet and a key chain. "ID inside with the amount of money agreed upon."
Ranger and Ashlyn took out their new ID's and quickly memorized the information…Tori Evans and Alano Ramirez from Rocheport, Missouri.
Ranger glanced at the key and then looked at the only vehicle in the garage. It was covered with a tarp and was obviously some kind of motorcycle. With one motion he uncovered the bike and shook his head. In front of him was a shiny black Yamaha YZF-R1. "Well," he remarked climbing on the bike, "it won't be a comfortable ride, but I assume that's part of the disguise." Ashlyn slid in behind him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist—her body plastered against him. His eyes turned dark and widened. "It obviously comes with a few perks I was previously unaware of."