I'm bbbbbbaaaaaacccckkk! And very happy to be here! Sorry for the longer than anticipated wait. I hope it is worth your while. I had a hard time getting back into the groove... but I did...thanks to?
You guessed it!
Julie and Carol!
I owe many thanks to both of you! There just aren't words for how grateful I am to you both for being the best friends and mentors a person could ask for. You both mean the world to me! Without your help and friendship I'd be one lost puppy!
Also, thank you for sticking around to everyone! I appreciate any and all feedback. It's great to hear your thoughts-good or bad.
Stephanie's POV
Grrrrr.
Grrr.
I put my hand over my stomach. How could it be growling so loud without me feeling it?
Grrrrrrrrr. I heard a loud bark and felt myself jump.
Had my wine been laced with something? My head was pounding and everything seemed cloudy in my brain. Obviously it wasn't my stomach that had been growling.
"Get the fuck away from me," I heard a menacing voice say.
Huh?
Who was that, and why couldn't I open my eyes?
Grrrrrr. I heard the snapping of teeth right as a hand touched my arm.
"What the fuck!" The menacing voice yelled.
"Wh—who are you, and what do you want?" I asked, still trying to piece together what had happened between when I was crying in self-pity with Bob to now.
Bob! That's what the growling had been!
"Bob? Bob, come here," I called, feeling my eyelids slowly begin to separate.
"Stephanie, it's me. I'm here for you."
"Alex?"
My eyes that had been slow to open were suddenly now wide and wondering. Tears had formed and dried, and when my eyes opened, it felt as though they'd been super glued together.
"How did you get in here?" I demanded.
Alex once again tried to grab my arm, and Bob lunged at him, while I struggled to get off the ground. My back and neck were in a tremendous amount of pain. Never had I been happier to have this destructive dog in my life.
"Don't touch me! Don't you fucking touch me! Get out of my house!" I screamed, finally remembering having opened the door because I'd thought it was Joe. I'd hoped maybe he'd cooled off from our argument and had returned to be with me, which is where he should have been right now.
Instead I'd opened the door to Alex who'd stunned me.
He'd stunned me!
Oh my God! Had I pee myself?
I mentally checked for any wetness in inappropriate places since all my effort was being put into getting as far away from Alex as possible. He hadn't been able to move from his spot in the foyer because Bob was keeping him away, but I'd moved back about a foot with Bob right in front of me.
"I said get out. If you don't get out, I'll be calling the cops." Now I was the one with the menacing voice.
"You wouldn't do that to me? Would you snookums?"
Snookums? What kind of nickname was that?
"I'm going to tell you one more time. Get. Out. NOW!"
"But I'm just trying to protect you. How can you not see that? If I leave, I can't protect you," he said with complete sincerity.
I took another step back, getting closer to the kitchen where my home phone was.
The crazy look Mary Lou and Lenny had spoken about was there. Big time.
I rolled my eyes. "Protect me? The only thing I need protecting from is you!"
Where this boldness was coming from I hadn't a clue. My stomach was actually in knots and from my neck down hurt—badly. Maybe it was Bob that was giving me the extra boost in confidence I needed.
"I saw that detective here," he sneered, obviously not wanting to say Joe's name. "I think he wants more than just to see who is behind the crimes with the trucks. I think he wants to rekindle your past together, and you still belong to me. You don't belong to him anymore! Wouldn't you agree that's inappropriate, Stephanie?"
What? I belonged to Alex? Yeah, freaking right!
"If you don't remove yourself from my home in two seconds, I will remove you myself."
How that was going to happen was yet to be determined. I'd found my gun earlier in the week, but since I'd stupidly thought I was out of danger—not to mention that Joe had been over earlier—I hadn't taken it from my nightstand.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said in a gentler tone then he'd last used.
I took another step back.
Alex lunged for me, and I flung myself backward. Bob let out a loud and dangerous bark. His teeth sunk into Alex's calf.
I'd always assumed Bob would drool and do a happy dance if anyone ever broke in or came up to me without consent. Rex had always seemed like the better protector, but somehow the scraggly dog had come through for me.
Alex let out a blood curdling—unmanly—scream.
I took advantage of him not being able to run toward me, and I raced over to the phone to dial the police.
"911, what's your emergency?" a monotone lady's voice answered.
My heart nearly pounded out of my chest when I saw Alex try to hit Bob upside the head.
No! Not my puppy!
"My ex-boyfriend is here. Trespassing, I think—I don't know—I just want him out!"
I suddenly started crying. The adrenaline was still kicking in my system, but it was coming in waves.
"He tased me, and now my dog—"
Bob let out a yelp as Alex hit him hard in the head, forcing Bob to release his calf from his mouth.
"Your dog did what, ma'am?"
"He bit him. Hard," I repeated and took off for the downstairs half bath to lock myself in.
Bob seemed disoriented after the punch in the head. He wouldn't be protecting me as well as he had been.
Slamming the door, I clicked the lock. Seconds later Alex was pounding on the door, and Bob was growling and barking. There was nothing fancy about the lock on the door. It would be an easy one to pick. I doubted Alex had the skill Ranger had. Still, I was afraid of the look I'd seen in his eyes. He might be powerful enough to knock the door right off its hinges, and I had nothing in the bathroom with which to protect me.
I'd been in the kitchen—why hadn't I grabbed a knife? Huddled between the toilet and the wall, I had a clear view if the door were to swing open. The bathroom was so small no matter where I put myself I would be at a grave disadvantage to the man on the other side. That bathroom was solely used as a pit stop downstairs. Other than toilet paper and soap, I didn't keep a single thing in there.
There wasn't a single thing I could use as a weapon.
Where was a plunger when I needed one? I could beat Alex upside the head or poke an eye out with it.
"Your dog is going to pay for this, Stephanie!" I heard through the bathroom door. If possible, he sounded even more angry and menacing than he had before Bob got to him.
"No!" I screeched.
"Ma'am, I need you to calm down. Give me your address and help will be on its way."
It took me a moment to remember my address. I gave her the wrong number twice before the correct number and street came to mind.
"Hurry," I whispered.
Alex was banging on the door, and, with every hard knock, I heard the wood in the door scrape. With every creak, my body stiffened further.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"I don't really know. I answered the door, and he was there. I thought it was someone else at first, and by the time I saw it was Alex he—he tased me."
Tears were streaming down my face watching the knob on the door being played with.
I wished more than ever that Joe and I hadn't fought. I should've grabbed his hand before he'd left and let him settle down before we talked some more. I wish I'd stuck to my promise to not raise my voice or argue. Silently, I willed him back to my home.
"Stephanie—you'd better not be on that phone! I said I wasn't going to hurt you!"
"When are the cops coming? When will they be here?" I frantically asked the operator.
"They're in route. Is he still accosting you?" she asked, trying to keep me on the line until the officers arrived. I wished my officer would arrive, but I knew there was no chance of that happening.
"Yes," I told her and started chanting to myself. "Please hurry, please hurry, please hurry."
The lady on the other end of the line tried to keep me focused, but her voice was merely static in my ear. All I could focus on was Alex on the other side of the door.
"How dare you fucking lock yourself in there!"
"We need to talk—now. You should have never reported me, Stephanie Plum! You had no right! I didn't do anything to you! Get out here to so I can show you the fucking error of your ways!"
I could hear the lock give a slight click, but it never fully turned.
"Ma'am, stay with me. Are you there?" The dispatcher asked, and I was far too scared to voice anything other than a whimper.
In all my years of bounty hunting, this moment had to have been the most terrifying. Or maybe it was just because it was happening right now. I didn't know, and frankly, I didn't care. I just wanted it over with.
"Get the fuck out here!" Alex screamed. He was getting more impatient as the minutes ticked on, and I was getting more scared.
"Please help!" I pleaded with the dispatcher.
"They're almost there, Hon, I promise." Her previous stoic demeanor was faltering, and she was becoming more compassionate.
Faintly I heard, "Philly PD open the door!"
"Fuck!" Alex yelled, and the fumbling with the bathroom door ceased.
Bob was still barking, sounding absolutely insane. I heard boots pounding on the floor and then a loud thud.
"Someone restrain the dog!" Orders were being called out by the police.
"You can't arrest me! I'm Alex MacLaine! My dad will have your ass for this!" Alex yelled.
The lock on the door in front of me tumbled, and something I'd never felt surged through my system. My whole body tingled—and not in a good way. I felt my legs go out, and everything turned fuzzy just as I watched the door start to open.
Joe's POV
After throwing my fist through the wall, I'd calmed down considerably. I was too distracted with icing my swollen knuckles to think of anything further. Emptying my pockets, I checked my phone and sighed. Not a single missed call.
If I hadn't heard from Steph in the hour that had passed since I'd left her place, I wasn't going to hear from her at all.
The fact she hadn't called me made me angry all over again—with myself and with her.
Why were we both so fucking stubborn?
Needing to get some of my aggression out and not wanting to damage another hand, I threw my cell across the room. It wasn't the first time I'd done it, but apparently my phone was at the breaking point I found myself at as well. The damned thing was shattered. The battery flew into my living room, and the front had disengaged from all the electronics inside.
When would I learn that physical release wasn't going to get me anywhere?
Frustrated and knowing there was nothing else to calm me for the night, I stripped my clothes and got into a hot shower until I felt a little more like myself.
A new phone would have to wait until tomorrow.
No question I needed to figure out my relationship with Stephanie, but right then I was too tired. Climbing into bed, I shut everything down.
Stephanie's POV
"Get that away from me," I garbled.
Nothing like having an ammonia pill to wake you up.
"Ma'am."
I didn't respond.
"Get someone over here STAT!" a man's voice yelled.
Hadn't I heard enough yelling men tonight? Jeez!
"Ma'am, are you with us?" the man's voice said again, this time patting my cheek.
"Yes," I faintly replied.
"Okay, I'm going to lift you up. You've already been checked out by the paramedics, so I know you're okay to sit."
Good thing they weren't making me stand, because I was positive my legs couldn't handle my weight right then.
In the distance, I heard Alex screaming. He probably wasn't all that far away. More like in my driveway.
My brain was too foggy to fully comprehend what he was yelling, but I was able to discern, "I didn't do anything wrong! Why aren't you arresting her? I was here to check on her, and that dog attacked me!"
"I'm detective James Stewart," the man beside me said. "I'll be taking your statement tonight."
I nodded warily. I hated giving my statement but knew it had to be done. I'd given my statement for so many different things over the years; I knew exactly how the process went. Usually I was so thorough, the police never had to ask any questions to clarify points and tonight was no exception.
After giving him my name, date of birth and dental record (not really that last one, but—sheesh—it surely felt like it), I explained the night's events. I explained to detective Stewart how I'd had a dinner guest and he'd dropped off his dog with me to doggy-sit while he went out of town. I didn't explain my relationship with Joe—nor did I give him his name or information. I was embarrassed enough with how the evening had ended up before Alex showed up. I didn't want Joe to get word of it if I didn't have to. Cops always stuck together, and, even outside of Trenton, Joe had made a name for himself with how smart he was. I didn't doubt the same happened here in Philadelphia.
"Do you have the dog's records, Miss Plum?" Detective Stewart asked.
"Records? What records?"
"Vaccination records?"
I shook my head so he continued, "Since you don't have proof of vaccinations, I'm going to have to call animal control—"
"What!" I slapped my hand over my mouth.
"He bit Mr. MacLaine, so we're going to have to quarantine him for three days. If you can get me proof of vaccinations, he can be released but otherwise—"
His voice drifted off in my mind. There went my idea of not telling Joe.
"There is a chance he can sue you or the owner for medical bills, but for now Mr. MacLaine is in state custody. Would you like to press charges?"
"Yes," I said firmly, "I want a restraining order as well, please."
I had never requested a restraining order against anyone before, but tonight I knew what absolute fear was. I thought I'd known it when Benito Ramirez was after me. I thought I'd known terror when Stiva shoved me into a coffin. There was no explaining why tonight had affected me more than any other time, but it had. If a restraining order made me feel a little safer, then I was going to get one.
"Okay, we'll fill out the request tonight, but a judge won't be able to approve it until tomorrow. Do you have a place to stay tonight?"
I took a moment to look around me. There was fingerprint dust everywhere, and it looked like a fellow officer was picking up hair samples.
I nodded my head. I needed Marisa. Not only for a place to stay but to be a source of sanity.
My home was now a crime scene. That hurt. Philadelphia took domestic violence much more seriously than Trenton—not that I didn't appreciate that fact, but this home was supposed to be my sanctuary. Now it was tainted.
I called Marisa, and even though I could tell she'd gone to bed long ago, she let me cry and explain what had happened. After I was more in control over my sniveling, she offered to pick me up. I declined, so I could take my car to work and then pick up Bob.
I called Joe next. My mind kept going back and forth as to whether I wanted him to pick up the phone. He would be furious with me for letting Bob attack Alex, but what choice did I have?
His phone went directly to voicemail. I left him a message and sighed. I really needed Bob's vaccination records! How was I supposed to get them if he'd turned off his phone?
Joe's POV
I was on my way to New York thinking about the previous night.
Tossing and turning, I'd kept replaying the events of the evening over and over again. I should've known I wouldn't be able to shut down my brain.
Cursing myself continuously for obliterating my phone, I realized I wasn't even concerned with the fact I might've miss a call from work. But what if Stephanie had needed me? Something deep down told me she had, but I kept telling myself it was just because I knew I'd hurt her with my words and actions.
I couldn't stop the cycle of my thoughts. I tried contemplating other things—my family—Bob—shit, even my truck—but everywhere my brain went thoughts of Stephanie soon followed.
It was a repeat of our initial breakup in Trenton. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life in this sickening cycle, but I didn't want to spend it without Stephanie either.
I needed to find a happy medium.
The night before I'd wanted to call and apologize—talk it out—but knowing her as well as I did, I'd known she needed time to cool off as well. And more than likely a longer period than I had!
Was her working for Ranger all that bad? Bad enough for me to destroy what I'd hoped to be a new and improved relationship with Steph?
No—it was probably the best thing for her. He would keep her safe, and she would probably be bringing in a decent wage instead of living hand to mouth like she'd been for so long working for Vinnie.
But it was Ranger!
Even before I'd met up with Steph again, he hadn't been a man I could trust without some reservation. I didn't know the inner workings of whatever relationship they'd had, but how was it possible for her to trust him so easily?
I guess I really couldn't blame her. How many times had he saved her life when I couldn't be there? Yes, he'd also put her in danger, but I was trying to think of the positives. He'd helped her out when she'd needed money with a job; let her borrow and destroy cars and supported her when I hadn't. When I looked past my pride, ego and love for Stephanie, I realized maybe he was it for her.
Quickly I removed the thought from my brain.
No!
I knew even though Ranger had the capability of loving Stephanie, I loved her more—deeper than a man like him could ever feel. I loved her in a way that would truly count and would last to the end of our days. I knew it, because I'd tried fighting my love for the woman that had caused me so much pain and pleasure.
Maybe I couldn't provide her with everything Ranger could. I didn't have the money and everything else that came with it at my disposal, but I could provide for us just fine. When it came down to the facts, Stephanie was a simple woman. I could provide a happy home, and wasn't that what it was all about at the end of the day?
I'd always known Ranger was after Stephanie for sex. Maybe he was interested in more, but more than likely not. If he had been, there would've been more to their relationship after Hawaii. From what I'd seen and heard, their association had quickly crumbled even after I'd called off our relationship.
I had to believe it was because she'd wanted it to crumble.
I hadn't even given her a chance to explain what the work she'd be doing for him would entail. There was always more than just a title. Worst of all I hadn't given her a chance to tell me about how her relationship had changed with Ranger.
Truthfully, I wasn't even upset over what she'd be doing—just with whom.
I didn't know much about what Steph and Ranger had shared in the past. I knew there'd been kisses and ogling. Obviously they'd slept together. But what I wanted to know was where they were with each other today and, more importantly, where they were going in the future.
Was she planning a future with him?
Had I mixed the signals? Had I been so desperate to feel Stephanie's love again I'd turned innocent gestures from her into more? Had dinner at her house really been just dinner, or had I been correct in thinking it would be a turning point for us to be adults and stay in a relationship? Or had she just wanted her share of 'Bob custody'?
What about our shared caresses the previous night? Was the overwhelming passion I'd felt when our lips, tongues and bodies had met one sided? It'd been almost enough to consume me at the time. A fire I hadn't felt in ages had been lit inside me.
I couldn't live with the thought that what I'd felt hadn't been the same for her.
Why was I even thinking about her anymore? If all of her signals were received correctly on my end, I'd clearly screwed up my chances. For once I'd been the one to blow up and leave.
Pulling into my parking space at the NYPD headquarters, I shook my head and got into team leader mode.
When the endless meetings were through, I could doubt myself and everything else around me. Until then, I had to have my head on straight.
Stephanie's POV
I awoke Thursday morning with a start, hating the feeling of waking up and not remembering where I was and why. Adrenaline immediately pumped into my system followed by relief as I remembered I was safe in Marisa's home.
Who needed coffee with five seconds into your morning like that?
After the police had arrived and arrested Alex for trespassing along with other yet to be named charges, they'd taken my statement after Animal Control had arrived. I'd cried my way through saying goodbye to Bob—even if it was just for the night—before gathering Rex and the rest of my belongings to stay with Marisa.
The room I was staying in hadn't had an alarm clock for me to set to get ready for work. And now, stumbling about the room, I didn't know the time. As much as I didn't want to go into work, I knew I had to—and I didn't want to be late.
Putting a robe on over my pajamas, I crept my way downstairs. There wasn't a trace of kids or adults and certainly no coffee had been made. I looked at the clock on the microwave.
SIX SIXTEEN IN THE MORNING!
I hated waking up before seven. When I'd been a bounty hunter, I'd hated waking before eight. An hour was a vast improvement, but this was too freaking early.
What was I going to do with myself for the next hour and half before I had to get ready for work?
My prayers were answered when I heard Sophia calling out for Marisa. Again I crept my way through the hall toward Sophia's bedroom. I met a very groggy Marisa in the hallway, and she smiled at me.
"Go get her. I'll start the coffee," she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
I gave her an enthusiastic nod as she passed me.
"Good morning, beautiful," I said to Sophia as I picked her up.
Dang that Marisa! No wonder she'd volunteered to make coffee. I'd forgotten that babies made messes during the night. I was going to have to remember to ask Marisa what she'd fed her, because I was never feeding my kids whatever Sophia had eaten if it was going to smell like that!
My kids.
Sigh.
Would I ever find a suitor to have one—or more—with?
The lousy truth was I'd once had two 'suitors'—both of whom could've provided me with the children I hadn't known I'd wanted at the time.
Ranger may not have made a good father, but he'd stupidly offered to give me a child once upon a time. Thank God I hadn't taken him up on his offer if he'd even really meant it.
I wanted a true blue father for my children.
I wanted someone with a loving soul who would adore them—a supporter and someone to defend them against anything. I needed a person who would help me teach our kids right from wrong and give them a strong sense of self.
That was Joe—through and through. I hadn't a single doubt about it.
We'd never truly discussed kids, and I couldn't help but wonder if he even wanted kids. Truthfully, he was probably smart enough not to want to have them with a disaster like me. Even though I'd worked hard at separating myself from the Stephanie that had attracted crazies and found herself in trouble time and time again, last night had been proof that Stephanie still existed.
Thinking about all that made changing Sophia's diaper much easier. I knew Marisa would laugh when she saw the excessive amount of wipes that I'd used, but in the end she would know her baby had the cleanest butt from there to Kingdom come.
I was blowing light raspberries on Sophia's cheek when we went entered the kitchen where Marisa was pouring our cups of coffee.
"Hey baby girl. Are you in a good mood today just for Aunt Stephanie?"
Marisa gave her a kiss on the cheek as Sophia took her drooly fist out of her mouth. She reminded me of Bob at that moment—drool everywhere and waiting for food.
Marisa took a bowl of what looked like mush and fruit to the dining table and nodded toward the high chair set off to the side.
"How are you doing this morning?" She'd begun to feed Sophia but was speaking to me.
"Alright."
"Good. I wanted you to know we're going out of town tomorrow night, but you're welcome to stay here as long as you need."
My eyes began to well at her thoughtfulness.
"Thanks," I whispered since my voice wasn't capable of much more. Clearing my throat, I said, "I should get Bob back tonight though, and I'm supposed to meet up with Joe tomorrow night so he can take him back. If I can't convince him to let me keep him for a little longer, I'll definitely take you up on your offer."
"You know you're going to have to tell HR about filing for the restraining order, right?"
I nodded. "Do I have to wait until it's approved, or, since I applied for one, do I have to do it today?"
"You should probably tell them about it today just to be on the safe side."
"Yeah."
"I keep forgetting to tell you! Mark has a guy in his office willing to represent you pro bono."
"Huh?" I raised an eyebrow, not having any idea what she was talking about.
"I think his name is Greg. He does mostly personal injury, but he can do more."
I must've looked thoroughly confused, because she explained, "He's an attorney in Mark's office. Anyway, he does all kinds of cases on the side when the mood strikes him. Apparently, he felt bad when Mark explained to him how he'd had to rescue you the other day."
I was always forgetting what Mark did for a living. Duh—tax attorney.
"Do you think I'll need an attorney? I haven't done anything wrong."
"I know." She continued to feed Sophia. "But you don't know what the fallout is going to be from last night. Not to mention Bob bit him."
"Bob was protecting me!" I protested.
"I know that and I'm sure the cops do too. But in this state, even if the person was there to cause harm to you and was bit, they can still go after you—or Joe—for medical costs."
I harrumphed. Between the dirty diaper and this news, today wasn't shaping up all that well. And I hadn't even been to work yet.
Forty minutes later, I was gathering up everything I'd taken over when I'd arrived in the early morning hours, except Rex. I'd collect him later.
"Thank you again. You're an amazing friend," I said to Marisa as she walked me out to my car.
"Anytime you need me, Steph, I'm here for you. Try and have a good day."
I started my car and rolled down the window.
"You too. When you get back, call me. I want you, Mary Lou and me to go do a girl's day. I owe you both, and you got along so well."
"I'd love that, but not because you owe me. I like spending time with you two. Plus, it'd be nice to see you when it isn't an emergency situation."
I laughed and rolled up my window. The mornings were starting to get cold, so I turned on the heater as well. I'd just put my car into reverse when Marisa waved her hand for me to roll down the window again.
"You need to cover up those marks before you walk into the office unless you want everyone talking."
"Marks?" I questioned.
She put her hand to her neck, and I instinctively did the same.
Shit!
I could feel the two marks left by Alex's taser. Flipping down the sun visor of my car, I looked in the mirror. Not only were there two angry red marks, but my neck was green and purple from bruising.
Damn it!
I pulled my hair from the bun I'd put it in and fluffed it, knowing it would have to suffice for now.
On my way into work, I left the exact same message for Joe as I'd left the night before.
"Hi—I need Bob's shot record as soon as you get this. My fax at work is 555-268-9125. Thanks." If he wanted to know why I needed the report, I'd tell him Bob had bitten someone and try to leave it at that.
Traffic made me late, and I was already irritated when I walked in the door of my office. I became even more irritated when I opened my company email.
My request for time off at the end of next week had been denied. Reasoning that since I hadn't heard when Grandma's surgery date had been set yet; it more than likely wasn't going to happen next week. I wanted to get my request in as early as possible—thinking there was no way they'd deny me as long as it wasn't requested on really short notice. If she had her surgery the beginning of next week, I'd at least be able to help my mom take care of Grandma for four days while she was recovering.
I had to call human resources anyway to tell them about the restraining order, so I'd complain about my time off request at the same time. Unfortunately, both would have to wait until after I called the vet, seeing as Joe still hadn't returned my calls.
Picturing the fluffy orange beast of a protector in a kennel was heart breaking. I needed to rescue him as soon as possible.
I'd called the vet and was told since I wasn't listed as an owner on Bob's paperwork, they couldn't release his records to me. However, Mooch and his wife were listed because they'd just dog-sat for Joe. I called Mooch and instructed him as to what I needed and where to send the information.
Now no one had ever accused Mooch of being terribly smart, so when he still sounded confused the third time I'd explained everything, I politely thanked him and hung up. I then called his wife Shirley and explained to her what I needed. She said she'd fax everything I'd requested as soon as she could. Not ten minutes later, I was faxing Bob's vaccination records to the county animal control.
Thirty minutes later I received the call that Bob could be released from 'impound'. I was busy doing a few orders when Chet from our Hazelton warehouse called to let me know a Steve Madden inventory had gone missing from the last load, along with a few Nine West packs. He and his team had triple-checked the truckload.
Could the day get any worse?
Knowing what my next step was, I called Joe. Maybe this time he would answer!
"Hey, it's me," I greeted the machine again for the third time. "That truck you told me about arrived, and, like you suspected, it's missing inventory. Call me."
I'd wanted to end it with, "Don't be mad at me about Bob. I love you", but that would've led to, "Please come back and talk about everything with me. I won't take the job if you don't want me to. I'll do anything you need me to."
I didn't say anything, knowing neither statement would get me very far. And I only wanted him to be in my life if he chose to be. I didn't want to force him any more than I felt I'd already done. There was no point in letting him smell the desperation coming from me.
I needed to focus back on my work, but I was having a terrible time. Why couldn't the break up from Alex have been easy? More importantly, why had I never suspected he'd go off some kind of deep end?
Where the hell had my spidey sense been when I'd needed it?
Having done enough dwelling on what I'd done wrong with my life, I needed to tell myself to focus on what lay ahead of me.
Purchasing could wait; I dialed human resources instead.
"Melinda speaking. How can I help you?"
"Hi Melinda, this is Stephanie Plum, Shoes Purchasing Manager East Coast."
"Yes, Ms. Plum. How may I assist you today?" asked the perky voice that held a certain air to it.
"I—well—you see—" I fumbled. How does one say I dated my boss, but he's gone physco?
Melinda cleared her throat. Five seconds into our conversation, and I was already testing her patience.
"Ms. Plum—"
"My manager—whom I previously dated—assaulted me in my home last night. I've filed for a restraining order, and I wanted to call and let you know." I burst out in a rush. I needed to get this conversation over with.
"And your manager would be?" Melinda asked. She was already typing away.
"Alex MacLaine."
"Ah yes. I see you've reported problems with him recently, correct?"
Remembering the parking lot incident, I started to nod my head, but soon realized she couldn't see me.
"Yes, earlier this week."
"Has the restraining order been approved?"
"Not yet," I responded.
"And you've never had a problem with him before your first complaint?" Her tone had seemed to become judgmental.
I'd been judged long enough in my life. I sure as hell didn't need it now.
"No," I responded with a touch of attitude. "We started dating not long after I started working here, and—"
"You do know that it's against company policy to have relations with someone in your department—do you not?"
"No, I wasn't aware."
"Especially since he's your manager—that's even more of a conflict of interest."
"Okay."
I couldn't think of a better response. The relationship was over, and yet I felt as though I was about to get reprimanded. Shouldn't my manager have told me?
"What is the lead detective's name that you requested the restraining order from, ma'am?" she asked, still typing away.
I hadn't brought any of the business cards with me. They were all on my kitchen counter where I'd left them. I went through my mental Rolodex, trying to think. I knew so many detectives in Trenton, and their name were the only ones popping up in my head.
"Stewart—I think. James Stewart."
"And do you have his contact information?" Her tone was getting more clipped the longer I had her on the line.
"No, but I can get it for you tomorrow."
"Hmmm, yes, please do. Your case number is 37-9268."
"Case number?" I asked, quickly scribbling down the numbers she'd sounded off.
"Yes, for Macy's internal investigation. If you hear from detective Stewart before tomorrow, give him my number." She quickly spouted off that as well. "And give him the case number. He should contact me immediately. If you don't hear from him, call me and reference that same number."
"Alright, I can do that. What happens in the internal investigation?" I asked.
"Not for you to worry about right now. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
Since her attitude hadn't softened toward me, I debated on talking to her about my time off. I decided it wouldn't be in my best interest at the moment.
"No. I just wanted Macy's to be informed of what is going on. Thank you."
I had all the information I needed, and so I quickly hung up.
Joe's POV
We took a late lunch break from our round table meeting. One out of the two trucks we'd thought would be targeted was in fact missing contents. Several items designated for Macy's—among other stores—were stolen.
Those facts led me to believe that Steph would have contacted me, and I still hadn't been able to replace my phone.
Fuck!
Skipping lunch with my team, I went to the local cellular store with my SIM card in hand.
I replaced my battered phone and was able to program everything in with the help of the customer service guy at the counter.
I couldn't have been more impatient if I'd tried.
"You're sure it's going to pick up the messages I would've received if my phone wasn't broken?" I asked for what had to have been at least the third time.
"Yes."
The kid grinned, probably thinking I'd missed a booty call. That was what would have been important to him anyway.
I felt the need to clarify. "I'm a detective, and I just hope I didn't miss out on a lead."
"Here you are." He passed me my new phone. "All set to go."
Practically running to my car, I immediately pressed 1 for voicemail.
Delete.
Delete.
Delete.
I'd almost pressed delete again when I realized it was Stephanie's voice.
"Hi—I need Bob's shot record as soon as you get this. My fax at work is 555-268-9125. Thanks."
What the hell?
The next message was exactly the same. Maybe my phone had duplicated the message, although in the first message, she'd sounded a little distraught and in the second, she'd sounded more in control.
Shit.
Next message: "Hey, it's me. That truck you told me about arrived. Like you suspected, it's missing inventory. Call me."
Two reasons to call her.
Why was I always looking for a reason to call her other than the reason closest to my heart?
I immediately called her cell phone, but didn't get an answer. It took me longer than necessary, but I found her office line under contacts and pressed dial. It was later in the day, but I figured she'd still be at her desk.
"Stephanie Plum—how may I help you?" she answered, and I felt relief to know she hadn't been in danger. She was obviously at work.
"It's me. Why do you need Bob's records?" I jumped in.
"Don't you need to know about the merchandise?" she asked in response. I couldn't get a good read on her, but she sounded defeated.
"No, I already know what's missing. Have you heard anything around the office about it?"
I hated to sound ungrateful for her having called about the trucks, but I already had the information, and I was more concerned about what was going on with Bob. The first thing that had come to mind was he needed surgery. Had a car hit him? Had he broken his foot going down her stairs?
"No, I've been stuck behind my desk again."
"Okay, well, let me know if you do. So why do you need Bob's records?"
"Uh—I don't need them anymore."
"Why did you need them in the first place?" I was getting irritated, and it was clear in my tone. She was always keeping something from me.
"He bit someone," she growled back at me, surprising the hell out of me.
"What!"
When there was no response, I added, "Who'd he bite?"
"Joe I really don't have time to talk right now. What time do you want to meet me tomorrow?"
"You haven't answered my question," I insisted through gritted teeth.
Who had she been hanging out with that Bob could've bitten someone in the short time I'd left him with her? Bob had never shown aggression toward anyone. It had to be a mistake.
"Joe," she pleaded, "I really don't have time right now to go over everything, but I will. Will you text me when you know when and where we can meet tomorrow?"
"Cupcake," I practically sighed. The woman made me question my own sanity!
Deciding not to push her further, I said, "Do you know where Shabby's Groomers is off Twenty Seventh Street?"
"Uh huh." She sounded sidetracked. When I didn't say anything more, she repeated, "Shabby's groomers. What time?"
"I should be back in town after twelve. What time would work for you?"
I was still working on calming myself down. Mostly I was thankful that regardless of whatever Bob and she had been up to, she seemed to be safe now.
"I'll call you. Sometimes I leave early on Fridays—like around four."
"And then you'll tell me what went on with Bob?" I had to push one more time.
"Uh huh." Just by her response I knew I'd have to dig to find the other half of whatever she was going to tell me.
"Alright, call me."
The silence dragged on between us. I almost opened my mouth to say, 'I love you', but thankfully she stopped me.
"Okay. Bye."
Stephanie's POV
After my conversation with Joe, the rest of Thursday went by in a blur. I remembered Dave having told me Ashley would start on Monday. He'd be training her but wanted me to spend some time with her as well.
Ugh.
Oh well, it was my job, and I'd have to get used to it. I'd have another five or so months with her.
I was ticked Joe hadn't said anything about our dinner the previous night—no apology or explanation for his actions. But truly I was afraid if I'd spent too much time on the phone with him, I'd have told him everything that'd happened the night before. Maybe one day I would give him the full details—like when I was drunk and had no control over my mouth and body.
Later at animal control, I waited for the burly receptionists in 'Tweety scrubs' to bring Bob to me.
We would be staying at my house tonight—with my gun by my side.
Detective James had called earlier to tell me my restraining order had been approved, and that my house was no longer a crime scene. Good news! Of course he'd shared bad news as well.
Alex was still in jail, but he would be meeting with the judge tomorrow to see about bond. Without a doubt, he was going to be released, but detective Stewart had assured me he would call me right away when Alex was out of jail. Even though we worked at the same place, Alex would not be allowed within one hundred yards of me. That meant he wouldn't be able to work at our office unless I wasn't there.
Oh how complicated life could be.
Staring off into space, I was taken aback when an orange blob came into my line of vision.
"Bob! Oh you big boy! I've missed you!" I threw myself at him and hugged him tight.
"I think he missed you too, honey. He chewed his bowl and blanket. We made sure he didn't swallow anything though," the receptionist said with a grimace.
I didn't want to tell her that was Bob's modus operandi for every day.
Friday morning I awoke in a much more pleasant manner than Thursday. I knew where I was, and Bob made me feel safe. I hadn't had the best night of sleep, but it'd been nice to be in my own bed.
Rubbing Bob's belly, I stretched. It was a new day, and I had a restraining order. Plus, I'd be seeing Joe later that day.
I thoroughly enjoyed my coffee while sitting in my backyard watching Bob discover the new-to-him yard. My eyes rolled at what he'd deposited in the back corners for me. Too bad Joyce's yard wasn't nearby with all that the animal shelter had fed him!
I rushed through getting ready for work. My makeup was half assed and my clothes weren't as pressed as I would've liked. Thankfully, my mom wasn't around to judge.
I barreled through the doors of Macy's lobby and took the stairs to the floor of the purchasing department.
The cloud I'd been on all morning disappeared as soon as I opened my email.
From: Melinda Carslile
To: Stephanie Plum
Subject: Case 37-9268
Dear Miss Plum,
After initial review of your case, Human Resources—Macy's has come to the conclusion it would be in the department and company's best interests if you take a leave of absence pending further review.
You will receive your regular pay, until we make a final decision.
Please read and sign the attached documents and return to me at your earliest convenience.
Melinda
I opened the document attached at the bottom of the email.
It was an acknowledgement form stating what Macy's would be doing to investigate and the possible outcomes.
I wasn't too concerned. There wasn't a chance I could get into trouble since I hadn't done anything wrong. When Marisa got back into town, I'd get the information for the attorney she'd told me about. Not only would I probably need him if things went south with Macy's, but if Alex decided to go after Joe or me for Bob biting him, I'd need some kind of counsel as well.
Signing the acknowledgement form, I faxed it back to Melinda.
Dave came in as I was finishing and slumped down in my guest chair.
"I take it you know already," I remarked to my disappointed looking assistant.
"Yeah, I just got an email."
He sat there a moment, waiting for me to say more.
"What's going to happen?" he asked when I'd let the silence last too long.
I shrugged my shoulders. I'd never been investigated for anything before.
"We're supposed to start training Ashley Monday," he reminded me.
"I'm sorry to leave you in this position. Maybe they'll have the investigation closed, and I'll be back by then."
"Yeah, maybe," he responded.
My trying to be positive wasn't rubbing off on my assistant. Or was he now an ex-assistant?
No one knew when the internal review would be done. I just hoped I'd be back within the next three weeks to see Dave off. If my logic were correct, Alex wouldn't be coming back.
I'd arrived to the office feeling like I was flying on a magic carpet. I left feeling as if a battered and dusty rug were covering me. Even though logically I knew I wasn't responsible for what had caused me to be temporarily on leave, I couldn't help but feel like it was entirely my fault.
If I hadn't treated Joe as if he meant nothing to me and cheated, he wouldn't have called it quits, and I wouldn't have ever left my bounty-hunting job, along with Trenton. Consequently, I would have never met Alex and dated him.
But—on the other hand—if Joe hadn't broken up with me, I would've never gotten my act together. I still regretted having treated Joe the way I did, but it had led to improvements in my life.
I'd made some good friends there in Philadelphia and working at Macy's had solidified in my mind I was capable of more than working at Cluck-in-a-Bucket.
I'd made other improvements as well. For the first time since E.E. Martin, I had money in the bank and wasn't living day to day. I'd learned how to cook for myself without it bringing back horrible images of my first marriage. But the biggest improvement of all had been not living in denial the majority of my waking moments.
Best of all, through all the change, I'd stayed true to myself and that's what counted.
Even though it was only a quarter past ten, I needed a pick me up. My resident Philly go-to person wasn't in town, so I called Joe. He'd always been my go to person, but this last year things had changed.
"Morelli," he answered, and I felt the dirty rug start to lift off of me.
"Hi," I breathed out fresh air. Only Joe was able to make me feel like everything would be okay.
"Is everything alright, Steph?"
"Uh huh," was my non-convincing reply. "I'm off work. What time can you meet me?"
It took him a moment to reply. I felt like I was testing his patience even though I'd asked a simple question.
"I'm checking out from my hotel now. Give me two hours to get there."
"So twelve thirty at Shabby's?" I clarified.
"See you there," he said and hung up.
At least I'd had his voice for a few moments. I knew our meeting would be tense, but I'd adapt. I'd been able to worm my way into his good graces in the past when I hadn't deserved it. I could do it again.
Back at my place, I cleaned up the mess from Wednesday night. I hadn't touched it the night before, because it'd reminded me of Joe—and his leaving. Afterward, I took a long shower.
I was ecstatic Bob hadn't eaten any of my furniture in the short time I'd been at work.
At twelve fifteen I had him on a leash ready to meet Joe. Locking my front door, I walked toward my car and stopped dead in my tracks.
Joe's POV
Weaving my way through Philadelphia traffic, I heard my phone ring over the radio.
"Morelli."
I heard sniffling on the other end and pulled the phone away from my ear. I'd been too into my own thoughts to look to see who'd called—something I almost never did but found myself doing more of lately.
Stephanie
"Stephanie?"
I immediately had the phone back to my ear and ground out her name in a rush. She still hadn't responded, and I was becoming more panicked.
"Cupcake? Answer me!" I demanded.
"I ca—can't meet up wi—with you."
What? Was that all she was crying about?
I answered my own question. No, Steph wasn't an emotional person.
"Why not? Is everything okay?" I asked, knowing damn well it wasn't.
"My tires are empty."
"Huh? How?" She had my mind going a mile a minute.
"Som—someone slashed my tires."
"What the fuck?" I exploded. "Where are you?"
"Home."
"I'll be there in ten," I said and hung up. At the first opportunity, I flipped a U-turn and headed toward her house.
Why would someone have slashed her tires? For that matter what was she doing home that early? The fact she was able to meet me earlier than either of us originally had planned was bugging me as well. Something reeked about the whole situation, and I was going to sniff it out.
From the little I'd been able to get out of her, I smelled Alex—a very bitter Alex.
My tires squealed as I slammed my breaks after pulling up to her house. Getting out, I went straight to her car to take a look.
No smashed windows. No key marks in the paint—just slashed tires. The right rear still had the knife in it. Looking at what was in front of me, my cop experience told me two things. One—the person was angry, and this was deliberate, and two—they either had to have been caught by someone or had heard something to have made them leave the knife in the tire.
Either that, or they were just plain stupid.
I walked around the fence line of her tiny front yard but didn't see anything. Her side gate was locked from the inside. Satisfied with my basic search, I returned to her car.
I was crouched down looking at the knife to see if maybe the person's hands had been greasy enough to leave some kind of print when I heard Stephanie's door open and her command to Bob to stay.
"I'm sorry about the call. I don't know why I was so upset. They're just tires."
It was a relief not to see her crying. I could never handle her crying—not because I hated crying per say, but more that it made me uncomfortable. I was a man, and what were men supposed to do in a situation like that?
Eyeing her shrewdly, I looked back to the car. "Do you know who did this?"
She turned her head away from me when I looked up at her.
Wait! What the hell?
I was on my feet and taking the three steps I needed to be right by her side.
Brushing the hair away from her neck, I swear I felt my eyes pop out of my head.
I dropped my hands and tightened them to fists, trying to calm my breathing. But there was just no way.
"You want to tell me what the fuck is going on?" My words came out harsh.
I'd just seen her two nights ago. Had she had the humongous bruise and Taser marks then, and I hadn't seen them?
I looked at the ground in front of me. It was the only way I could gain any semblance of control to not lash out at her. She wouldn't open up if I lost it, and I knew it.
When I looked back up, there were silent tears streaming down her face.
There they were—emotions—boiling inside me. It was a mix of compassion and anger. More like fury. I was mad at her for not having told me before now, but even angrier at the person who'd done this to her.
Why hadn't she called me immediately?
I swiped at her tears with my finger.
"Stephanie—I need you to tell me what's been going on." My tone was gentler, but she knew I was angry. "Let's go inside."
She nodded, and silently we walked inside. Taking in my surroundings, I noticed nothing looked misplaced from the last time I'd been here. The candles I'd placed on the dining table were where I'd left them before running out of there.
"I could really use a drink," Stephanie said followed by a rather self-condemning laugh.
So could I. But I wasn't about to let either of us get inebriated in order for her to tell me what had happened.
I broached my initial question. "Tell me why you needed Bob's vet records."
"I told you; he bit someone," she glared at me.
"I know that, but who did he bite," I matched her attitude.
I should've guessed. This was going to be like fucking pulling teeth.
When she looked away from me again, I cupped her chin and forced her to meet my eyes.
"Cupcake, I need you to tell me what happened. I could get into trouble because of Bob biting someone. I need all the facts."
It was a needless reminder. She already knew that, but I'd needed her to understand the importance of what was going on.
It took her a minute, and right as she went to open her mouth to tell me her tale, she collapsed onto a barstool ad started sobbing.
Oh Jeez!
Taking the barstool next to her, I scooted it closer and began rubbing circles around her back, making shushing sounds and hoping to calm her.
"Would you be more comfortable on the couch?"
When she didn't respond, I effortlessly picked her up and brought her to the recliner.
I made a mental note to get her to eat more. I'd noticed before she'd lost weight, but I hadn't realized how much until she was in my arms.
The recliner required her to be on my lap where she couldn't escape, and I could hold her. I needed the affirmation she was all right—at least physically.
I'd been through almost every terrifying kind of event with her when she was a bounty hunter. I knew what my role was and how much support she would need. Normally, it would've taken weeks for her to finally breakdown like this.
I had to get the facts, and that's just what I did. She cried, but told me everything that'd happened after I'd left Wednesday night. At least I hoped it was everything.
"Joe," she said to me, but I didn't hear her.
My eyes were burning with rage. If I ever saw Alex he would pay!
"Joe," she said again. "I need you to let go of me." Without thinking, I tightened my grip on her. "Joe, please, I can't breathe."
It hit me how tightly I was holding her. As soon as I let go, she heaved in a breath, and I smiled embarrassedly. There were times I didn't know my own strength. Knowing Stephanie wasn't weak or sensitive, I offered an apology that she waved off.
"I don't know if it was Alex who slashed my tires. Detective Stewart hasn't called me. He said he would if Alex was released," she informed me.
I needed to know more about Alex and her relationship with him—as in had he ever assaulted her before? Had he been verbally abusive toward her? Exactly how manipulative was he?
Right that moment however I needed to hear about Alex's status.
"Call him now," I demanded.
She picked up her cell phone and called Detective Stewart. I wanted to rip the phone out of her hand, because I could only hear her 'uh huh's' and 'yeah's'. When I heard the sharp intake of breath and her eyes slammed shut, I knew.
Alex had been released.
Unable to control myself, I yanked the phone away from her.
"Detective Morelli here—TPD and PPD. Why wasn't Ms. Plum called immediately?"
I heard Stephanie trying to calm me down. The plastic in my hand crackled, but I didn't care. When her words didn't work, she let her physical presence calm me slightly by placing her hand on my forearm and lightly running it up and down.
"I'm sorry, sir. I was busy. I just found out for myself," the young detective told me.
"That's no fucking excuse. Did she tell you he slashed her tires?"
"Do we know if that's a fact?" The detective obviously wasn't happy I'd reprimanded him.
"Get your print techs over here immediately. You come too. I'd like to have a word with you."
"We'll be there when we can," he retorted and hung up.
That boy was in for it as soon as he arrived.
Steph's POV
I sat on my couch curled up in a ball.
After telling Joe what'd happened, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The rest of the weight wouldn't be lifted until Alex was back in jail—or if Joe were near me—forever.
As soon as the technicians arrived, Joe was out the door. When I looked out my front window, I saw the techs were separating Joe from Detective Stewart.
Men.
I felt a little disdainful until I realized just how protective Joe was being. Clearly, he still cared. I smiled as much as I could under the circumstances.
When the technicians were done, Joe told me to call a tow truck to pick up my car. He must've called a friend, because he gave me a referral to an auto body shop where they could replace my tires for cheaper than a Les Schwab.
Not long afterward, I watched my car get loaded onto the flat bed while Joe continued to talk to Detective Stewart. They'd both calmed down toward each other, and I was grateful. I didn't need testosterone to ruin my link to the Philadelphia Police Department.
Suddenly my phone vibrated in my hand.
Mom.
"Hi Mom." I tried for cheery, but I think I just sounded tired.
"Hey honey. We finally got word on your grandmother's surgery. It's going to happen Monday morning. I need to have her at the hospital by seven. Will you be able to get the time off?"
"Yeah, I'll be there," I whispered.
I didn't know how, but I would be.
