Whispers in the Wind
Chapter 11
"Hey, Mare," Stephanie answered her buzzing phone.
"Hi, Steph. I wanted to give you a call. Everything is signed and sealed with the house the real estate agent told me and I have all your papers. Arthur, 'The Stickler', transferred the money for the sale and I signed the sales agreement as your representative."
"Good and the contractor fixed the few minor issues the house inspector pointed out? I knew there couldn't be many things wrong since it was a brand new construction."
Mary Lou Stankovic giggled, "They were practically fixed as Mr. George, the inspector, was leaving with his ladder. He really wanted to sale that house fast and you buying with cash just made it all the sweeter."
"I got a good price below its value. I think it was more the rumor his wrestler girlfriend, who was a tad upset finding him with a pair of strippers, was after him. I bet he's on a plane out of Trenton!"
"If he's that fast. Guess who provided the title search Arthur insisted on?"
"Who?" Stephanie asked. She couldn't image who it could be.
"The Dick! He's bald as a cue ball on top!"
"HAH!" Both friends let out.
"I don't think he remembered me," Mary Lou went on when she stopped laughing. "He mustn't have too many clients because I noticed a hole in his tie and his pants weren't pressed or not very well. I thought he was going to faint when your real estate agent said I was there representing the buyer and I signed your name on the title documents."
"How did his nose look?" She asked from Maine remembering back to the night of her rehearsal dinner when she caught him with her nemesis, Joyce Barnhart, from high school going at it on a banquet table.
Her anger went right to her fist and it contacted with his nose. His head went one way and his nose the other. He was lucky Stephanie got to him before her hot tempered Italian father. Dickie would have been wearing cement shoes right to the bottom of the Delaware River with all his card playing cronies taking care of business. Upset they were missing out on a wedding buffet.
Joyce got whacked with a tray of cold cuts by Edna Mazur, her little old Hungarian grandmother. It was the best use of a tray of luncheon meat known in 'the Burg' since.
"Still crooked and it looks a whole lot better. Oh, the bedroom furniture, dining room, and the furniture for the family room off the kitchen will be there on Friday. Unfortunately, the living room furniture won't be able to be delivered for about 2 weeks."
Stephanie was disappointed. She wanted the house to be all ready for them when they returned from the hearing. She was nervous, this was her first big undertaking alone in over five years, but it was necessary for her and her nieces. They together needed to belong somewhere. She along with the dogs and nieces would stay at her parent's house on Sunday after the long drive from Maine and she would surprise them after court. "Well, most of it will be there and we'll have the family room to sit in, but with the warm weather I expect Mary Alice and Angie will be in the pool."
"I know and my boys will be right with them. I showed Lenny that gorgeous bedroom furniture and he volunteered we would house sit anytime you needed us. Your bedroom will be to die for when it's finished. I love that. If that store ever has a really big clearance sale, then maybe it would fit into our budget. I'll just drool over yours."
"I appreciate all the time you have helped me, Mare. I couldn't have done this without you," Stephanie told her best friend and as she was talking was typing an e-mail to 'NYModern' ordering the exact bedroom she bought for herself for the Stankovics. She would also contact a carpet store for new plush carpeting or hardwood which ever they preferred as a gift for all her help.
"It's been fun and I know what type of furniture I'll get when Timmy outgrows spilling," her friend said. She would do anything to have her best friend closer. 'The Burg' just hasn't been the same without her and her antics.
"Oh, guess what the neighbors told me who live in the split level with the long windows?" Mary Lou couldn't believe what she was told about the other neighbor in the Colonial.
"What?"
"A hot guy owns the Colonial. He's not there much and will come in at odd hours sometimes. He's a rock star in a band! Steph, I don't care what type of music it is. Maybe, you can score us a couple of tickets when his group plays in Trenton for a night out. Show a little cleavage!"
"Mary Lou! You're incorrigible! I better go and see if the girls are ready. I have a few more locations I want to photograph to finish this assignment before we leave. Bye, Mare."
Mary Lou hung up laughing, "Bye, Steph."
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Lester popped his head in Tank's office and the second-in-command averted his head from Ranger, whom he was talking with on a contract.
"What, Santos?"
"I have vacation days. Think I could take Thursday and Friday off? I'm not scheduled for the weekend."
He shrugged his shoulders and Ranger did the same. Tank kept the vacation and sick time records. "We have Brown and Ram if there are any outstanding skips."
"Bobby and I brought in the last three this morning. It will only be new files from Vinnie."
"I guess you are off then," Tank gave his approval. It was Wednesday and Lester always scheduled days off way in advance. "What's the hurry?"
Ranger and his best friend were focused on their Army buddy for a response, not that they were entitled to one, but Lester was pretty much an open book.
He said right before disappearing from the doorway, "There are only a few available seats remaining for Portland." If he wanted he could check if the Burton corporate jet was available, but he never did. It was just as easy to get a flight out of Philadelphia or Newark.
Ranger and Tank heard Bobby's voice in the hallway. "I want to go to Maine."
"I'll bring you a lobster," Lester called jogging back to his cubicle. "We're going out on a lobster boat."
The contract wasn't holding his interest and Tank could see it. "What's your problem?"
"Nothing," Ranger said with a short tone to his one word answer.
Tank gave him a raised eyebrow, his didn't hold the same impact as his friend's, but the twitch was visible. "Yeah, right?"
"She's way out of Santos' league."
Tank's headed bopped up as if at attention. "Since when do you care about Lester's love life? I think they are friends and only friends. Lester was really broken up by his uncle's death and from the way he talked, the three of them got along really well. It was why he spent so much time in New York on his Army breaks or in Virginia on Burton's horse farm. If I remember right, he scheduled time for a camp they held for handicapped kids. He showed me a magazine with the photos she took for it."
"Lester just friends? That's something new."
Tank studied his friend for a moment. The light bulb was going off. "And is she in your league?"
Ranger responded avoiding the question, "Stephanie Plum is class personified."
The bald man didn't comment any more, but noted how his friend eluded his question. A woman like that would give him a run for his money and she might just have as much or more than the Great Manoso. That would be something.
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Later in the afternoon, Tank looked up from his desk when Ranger walked in. He saw an overnight bag in his hand.
"Going somewhere, Ranger" Tank asked. He was expecting his friend to say he was heading for Maine beating Santos there.
"Miami. I'm going to do my mid-year review," the Boss said with a sour note in his voice.
"A little early aren't you?"
"Just getting a head start on the offices. You'll handle things here for a few days?"
With confidence, Tank replied, "I always do."
He nodded knowing his best friend always handled everything when Ranger was out of the office even if it was months at a time when he was under contract with the government. When it came time to renew it right before Bobby's birthday party, he kept having a nagging thought not to, so he didn't. He learned to listen to his doubts; they probably prevented Ranger from being shot or killed a few times. The thought crossed his mind today to pick up the telephone and call his commander if any missions needed his expertise right away, but he was approaching thirty. Playing Commando G.I. James Bond didn't hold the same thrill as it once did for him. Ranger believed he would always be a soldier in some capacity, he even surprised himself. Hell, being honest with himself, he hasn't been really himself since one fateful night and he wasn't quite sure what to do about it.
Tank chuckled to himself hearing the elevator 'ding', he was so happy he was in Trenton and not Miami. His friend he knew like the back of his own hand, without saying anything that was a jealous man flying south.
Maybe even envious of Lester flying to Maine. Tank noticed him not 'being aware of his surroundings' as Ranger beat into every employee's head staring at a computer screen a few times. He was looking at her photography that he could find on the Internet. Hector, the computer Guru, checked for the big man what completely held Ranger's attention; he forgot to erase his browser one day. Poor Miami!
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There is a new link to the 'Windmill on my profile, Stephanie's new house, and her 'modern' bedroom.