Not my characters (except for the ones you don't recognize, they belong to me), they belong to Janet Evanovich, but as long as Ranger can come out and play I can live with that.
I know I told some readers that it was going to be a long night both in jail and at RangeMan. Steph and Ranger had a lot of things to think about. The night ended up being far longer than I realized for everyone. I hope it makes sense.
The Right To Remain Silent
by
SueB
Chapter 14
"Go to bed," Tank said. "You did good work, Steph, but we can't hand off the info until morning."
He glanced at his watch, blew out a sigh. "Trust me, morning isn't all that far away. Get some rest. If we're fresh, we'll have a better shot at piecing this together."
The last two days I'd only cat napped on the couch in Ranger's office. I was exhausted. He was right.
I heard him. Didn't mean I listened.
Instead, I stayed at my monitor hitting dead end after dead end. Not finding one clue about who might have doctored Ranger's intel. And terrified to consider why they would.
Now I stood in the bedroom on the seventh floor with Tank's words rumbling through my head Go to bed. Go to bed. Go to bed. and I knew why I'd ignored him.
"For Pete's sake just climb in, Stephanie, it's only a bed." I said it out loud, convincingly I thought. But, it wasn't only a bed. The last time I was in it Ranger had made slow sweet love to me and, sated, I'd slept peacefully in his embrace. Even if he lived through this, I didn't know if that would ever happen again. I didn't know if I could let it happen again. He'd lied to me. He didn't trust me.
"Get in. Get in. Get in. Get in," I repeated like a mantra. "After all, it's not like you haven't slept in this bed alone before!"
Several times when I'd collected a new 'crazy' Ranger had allowed me or insisted that I stay at his apartment. Luxuriating in his 1000 thread count sheets almost made the wackos worth it. Usually Ranger had been 'in the wind' when I camped out at his place, but not always. When he was home, he shared the bed with me. On those occasions he made it plain he was more than willing to share his body too, but he left that decision up to me. I turned him down each time. I had tasted that body once. My psyche couldn't afford the addiction another sampling would mean. He never pressured me, never refused to only hold me all night long if that was what I needed. In my mind, the safety of his arms was better than any other fortification Haywood had to offer.
"You're a grown up, Stephanie. Lie down and go to sleep. You'll never even notice he's not there." Right! "Like not noticing your heart is missing," I mumbled. God, was I still talking out loud? Yeah, I was. "Things are different from three days ago," I told myself in a whisper. Like whispering made me any more sane. Things were different. The problem was, before I moved in full time, I always thought of this king-sized expanse as Ranger's bed, but now...now I thought of it as ours.
#####
We all suffered for the ruckus during lunch. Every inmate was under lockdown. Eventually, a trustee with a squeaky cart made his way down the row of cells unceremoniously shoving dinner though the bars, a paper-wrapped sandwich, cold and dry. Almost made me wish I'd eaten the damn macaroni.
After my first night in the general population, my cell mate, a small taciturn man who did not divulge his name, had been released. His empty bed was left unfilled. Whether by chance or design I didn't know, but I was alone. Alone with my thoughts.
Only I was never really alone with my thoughts. Hadn't been since one fateful day in a low rent Trenton diner.
Babe.
She didn't know it but she accompanied me on every mission - waited with me to intercept a Taliban official on a frozen Afghan mountain, stayed by my side while slogging through Colombia's cocaine infested swamps, kept me company during endless nights of tedious surveillance in half a dozen different countries.
Then one day she was the only reason I came home. On my knees, hands bound behind me, a captive of the Chechen mafia, I felt the cold steel of the executioner's pistol at my neck. With seconds to live, I heard her voice, clear and urgent - Ranger, I love you, come back to me. I heard her voice and the earth shifted beneath me, bringing destruction down upon my captors' heads.
I hadn't told her how much she meant to me, how she lit a fire in my soul and kept me from the darkness. She didn't know that no matter how ingloriously I'd managed it, the one night I'd spent loving her had branded me as hers forever. I let her believe that we had chemistry, but nothing else...especially not a future. I spent my passion protecting her and I held my men responsible for her well being when I could not be there.
Yet the earth had moved because she loved me. I didn't deserve her love but I returned from that assignment determined to make my declaration in spite of my shortcomings, to offer her a choice other than Morelli. After Chechnya, my contract was only two months shy of ending. If she'd have me, I'd soon be free.
Except when I got back she was tighter with the cop than ever. When she stopped by my office, I didn't know at first that the reason was to tell me, friend to friend.
I rose to greet her and took her in my arms burying my face in her fragrant curly hair. She held me close and then pulled away to lay her hand against my cheek. My skin warmed to her touch. She set me on fire.
"I was afraid you weren't coming back," she said softly. "I'm so glad you're safe."
I moved my head to catch her fingertips between my lips, waiting for the words I knew were coming next - Ranger, I love you. And had to slam my blank face hard into place when she went on determinedly, "Joe and I know we have a ways to go, but we are going to make it work."
Turned out the shaking ground had been nothing more than a fortuitous seismic event, her voice the yearning hallucination of a man about to die. The same day I signed the paperwork selling my skills to Uncle Sam's shadowy twin for an extended term.
#####
With all the twists and turns the path of our relationship had taken, I should have realized from the start that Ranger and I were likely to finish at a dead end.
I knew I loved him the day I told him that Joe and I were going to make a go of things. I knew too that he only loved me 'in his own way.' I wasn't stupid and he'd certainly told me enough times. I had to let him go. There was no question Ranger and I had a connection. God knows there was the sexual attraction. The touch of his fingertip under my chin sent shivers down my spine. A hint of his hard-earned smile warmed me like the hottest sun. His kiss turned my bones to molten lava.
But, there was more to it than hormones. I didn't always know what he was thinking, but I always knew when he was near. The tingle at the back of my neck sure didn't happen with anyone else.
That tingle became nonexistent after Joe and I got together. Ranger went 'in the wind' more often and for longer periods of time. I asked Tank why that was and didn't like his answer.
"Told me he was needed more out there than he was here," the Big Guy said. "Said out there he had things under control."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I sputtered.
Tank frowned, shrugged.
A cold fist of fear clenched my stomach. "He's being careful isn't he?" I whispered.
"I hope so," Tank had responded, "but I don't know."
I didn't sleep real well after he said that.
Joe and I had chemistry, not to mention history, but in spite of my good intentions, I quickly reconfirmed we'd always have uncommon goals. His goal was to turn me into the baby-making homemaker that I'd resisted all my life and mine was to make sure that he didn't. No way it was ever going to work. I told him I was all through trying and wasn't going to try again. I'm not sure he believed me.
When Ranger finally came back after eight months away, Joe and I had been split for five.
#####
Night noises. Rough low rumble of a heavy door rolling. Closing with a clank. Solid. Final. Locked in. Singing. Loud, off key. Unappreciated. 'Shut the fuck up!' Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Metal against metal. Code? Or bored monotony? Snores and whimpers. A sob. 'Ma!' Also unappreciated. 'Shut the fuck up!' Night noises.
Finally relative quiet reigned. It was late. Down the hall I heard. Splash. Splat. Swish. Swish. Scrape. Again. Splash. Splat. Swish. Swish. Scrape. The regular rhythm repeated itself, coming closer until I could make out Cain in the half-light of the hall moving his mop from side to side and shoving his bucket along.
"We're on lockdown, Old Man," I said quietly. "How come you're workin'?"
He startled, looking toward my cell but unable to see into the darkened corner where I was sitting on the floor.
"Thought you sleepin'," he said. "That's what decent men be doin' now."
"Decent men?" I snorted. "That would explain why I'm awake." I paused then said. "Still doesn't tell me why you're workin'."
"Dirt ain't on lockdown," he grumbled. "They let me work most nights just to keep up. Besides," he went on, humor in his voice, "I can go faster when I don't have to jaw with the criminals."
He rested on his mop a minute. Looked my way again. "Just a word," he offered. "They be doin' maintenance tomorrow in the johns. I hear tell they might be gettin' people up tonight takin' small groups in to shower. Jess so you all don't stink up the place worse than usual in the mornin'."
"Guess I'll stay up then," I said. "Appreciate the notice."
He nodded and continued with his task. Splash. Splat. Swish. Swish. Scrape. I continued with my task too, a silent roll call of my possible attackers and the contemplation of how much longer it would be before I was confronted.
#####
It was Joe who told me Ranger was back. It hadn't been a good day. I'd finally tagged my morning FTA and was in need of some intensive donut therapy when Joe's car squealed to the curb. He got out and threw his flasher on the roof. For a minute I thought I was under arrest. Half a Boston Creme fell out of my mouth and plopped onto the sidewalk.
"Shit!"
I was seriously considering enforcing the five second rule and stuffing the pastry back in my mouth when Joe leered.
"Cupcake! Aren't you lookin' fine!"
My jeans were ripped, my hair glistened with tomato sauce and my forearm was scratched from wrist to elbow. No question I needed fat and calories.
Joe went on, "No wonder Manoso's on you like a fly on a pile."
"What?" I was only half way to retrieving my treat from the ground.
"Well, you don't have a new stalker that I know about, but there's been a RangeMan vehicle in your neighborhood three nights running. I know you haven't been gettin' any from me so I figured you two were fucking like bunnies."
"Joe!"
Ranger? Here?
What I wouldn't give to be able to pull off a blank face. I knew mine was filled with doubt, embarrassment and confusion. If Ranger was home, why didn't I know? Why hadn't someone told me? Why hadn't Ranger told me?
"Hey, you didn't know he was back?" Seeing my expression and satisfied with the damage he'd done, Joe climbed in his car, did a u-turn and waved, calling out, "Gee, sorry, Cupcake, Maybe I'm mistaken."
After that I didn't think even Boston Cremes would help.
#####
As Cain moved on I flipped to my belly and tried a couple push ups. The exercise sent a blaze of pain through my chest. I pushed out twenty more and then switched to sit ups. I was done after fifteen. Even the light workout had my ribs screaming and my head pounding, things I'd have to ignore if I wanted to stay alive. I desperately wanted to stay alive. My body dripped with sweat. I hoped Cain was right. A shower would be welcome. I sat on the floor leaning against the wall, watching the darkness.
As long as Steph stayed with me there, the darkness was manageable. If she left me, I was lost. I thought I was finished when she decided to be with Joe. I didn't intend to come back from the next mission, but after eight long months, I did. Not even Tank knew I was in Trenton. I stole a RangeMan fleet vehicle off the street - Manny had some explaining to do - and spent three nights staring at her window.
In the early hours of the fourth night, Tank almost died when, unannounced, he opened the SUV's door and slid in.
"I should have you arrested for grand theft auto," he said without preamble.
"How'd you know I was here?"
"You're the only one I could think of in this town who'd have the balls to steal a RangeMan truck."
"Fuck off. Not stealing. I own it." It was good to see old friends.
"You want to tell me what you're doin' sittin' here?"
Maybe not so good. "No."
He went ahead and answered my unasked question.
"She's not with the cop. Hasn't been for five months. Doubt she will be again."
I couldn't help myself. An odd strangled sound of relief came from somewhere near my soul.
Tank grasped my shoulder in one strong hand. "All you had to do was ask, Rangeman. I could have saved you three night's sleep. Go see her," he urged adding, "Morelli drives by every night from what I've heard. He probably knows you're back."
#####
Joe had been right.
My locks tumbled in the wee morning hours and I felt not just a tingle, but a warm all over glow.
Ranger.
It wasn't unusual for him to slip into my room in the middle of the night. He'd been away so long. I wanted to run to him, hug him, welcome him home, but I didn't know what he needed. In the past he often came and stayed the longest when things had not gone well - a bad takedown, a man injured, a mission FUBARed.
Normally he kept his vigil from the chair in the corner of my room. A dark silent angel come to guard my dreams. This night as I feigned sleep, he sank to his knees beside my bed, folded his arms on the edge of the mattress and rested his head there. Was he asleep? Praying? When his body began to shake, I knew it was neither of those things. I couldn't stand any more.
"Ranger," I breathed, caressing his back with a feather light touch.
He jerked away, moaned like I had hurt him.
"No!" he cried. "Babe! Don't!" He wiped his hand across his face.
"I'm...I'm sorry," I stammered. "Are you okay? I'm sorry." I scooted back up against the headboard, hugged myself to keep my hands off him.
"No," he said. "No, it's not that." He shook his head. Laughed a little. "But, if you touch me, I'm going to ravage you."
"Yeah, so what's the problem?" I muttered.
Then he did laugh. But his laughter was soon gone as he retreated to the chair and became all business. "I don't want hormones, yours or mine, to have anything to do with what I need to say."
"Ranger! What?" I screeched.
I guess I scared him. He bowed his head, got up and said, "Shit! I must be crazy. This is all wrong. I better go. I don't know what I was thinking."
No way he was leaving me like that! "Batman!" I said, "Sit your ass back down and spill!"
That's when all the fight and tension left him and he simply said, "I love you Babe."
Oh.
#####
In my line of work you sometimes have to catch your sleep standing up so a quick nap while sitting on the floor of my cell was nothing unusual. I hadn't planned on dreaming. On reliving my decision to tell her that I loved her. In the end telling her had been easy. Reciting the litany of reasons she shouldn't love me back was what was hard.
I'd hadn't finished my list when she interrupted.
"Ranger."
I'd warned her away from me knowing her touch would break me as no torture ever had. There wasn't any stopping her this time as she moved toward me. She cradled my face in her hands, made me look at the truth in her eyes.
"I already know all these things," she said softly. "Never stopped me from loving you before...,"
Before. She loved me before.
"not going to stop me now."
"There's something else," I said, capturing her hands, holding them between us.
She opened her mouth, wanted to talk. I stopped her, a fingertip to her lips. "Let me finish."
Frustrated, she sighed, but nodded.
"I recently signed a heavy contract." No need for her to know exactly when, to know it was due to my failure to speak up when she'd come to me about the cop. "It's for an extended period, the missions all high risk."
"Ranger, it doesn't mat..."
"It does matter. You need to know. Asking you to be with me under these circumstances is the most selfish thing I've ever done. I could be called out five minutes from now and be gone within the hour. By this time tomorrow I might be half way around the world or already dead. And every time I go, the chances of my coming back go down. You need to understand that."
"How long?" she asked tentatively.
"Another three years."
Her eyes were bright with tears, but she managed a tremulous smile. "Then we better not waste any time."
God, I loved this woman.
She moved into Haywood the next day.
A month later when Harry Dolan asked for my help with his unsanctioned operation, I traded for my freedom. If anyone could make my contract go away it was Harry. All I had to do was stay alive.
#####
Exhaustion.
Gravity.
They were the only things that could have made me lie down in this bed.
Stupidity.
That's why I was clutching Ranger's pillow so tightly that my arms ached. Breathing in his essence.
On the morning of his arrest, I'd asked Ella not to change the sheets on the seventh floor. My face flushed in embarrassment, but I didn't want to lose the scent of his presence. She took my hand in her soft worn grasp and said kindly, "It's all right, dear, I understand. You let me know when you're ready."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak and she wrapped her arms around me whispering, "He'll be back before you know it."
Now I didn't know if he was coming back and I had to decide whether I'd be here if he did.
Miraculously, in the two and a half months we had been together, he hadn't been called away. I'd been sublimely happy. So had he. I thought. He'd been more open with me than ever before. It was only when he revealed glimpses of the ugliness that had been his life's work that his habitual grim intensity took over. Can you still love me after the things I've done? his dark eyes would ask? I'd show him with my words and body that I loved him even more for trusting me with his vulnerabilities.
I didn't love him any less now. I would never stop loving him, but the events of the past two days and Ranger's obvious planning of them made me question whether I'd ever owned his trust at all.
It was the one thing I had to have to stay with him. Non-negotiable. As he would say.
My dilemma didn't stop me from worrying. Was Ranger all right? Was he in pain from the injuries he'd suffered during his arrest? Could he defend himself adequately if/when he was attacked? Would he have to die to successfully complete this mission? Would I ever understand why he hadn't been honest with me? Oh God!
I tossed and turned, cried into his pillow soaking it with tears. Finally, completely spent, I drifted into sleep.
In the morning, I'd ask Ella for clean linens.
#####
Irritated voices told me Cain's information had been true. The men were being rousted out for showers. They'd hear no complaint from me. It was good news. Even better news was that when it came my turn the inmates accompanying me were all ones whom I had already checked out and dismissed as possible assailants.
The others had finished when I grabbed the soap to wash my hair. It was still sticky with blood from the cut on my head.
"Hurry up, Manoso. This ain't the Ritz ya know."
Clyde's voice. He'd pulled a double shift.
"No shit," I cussed when the strong prison soap sluiced into my eyes, stinging and burning. I held my face under the water and then bowed my head to finish rinsing off.
There was a noise. Squinting and blinking, I shook my head ridding my hair of excess water and turned directly into the sharp, keen edge of a deadly prison shiv.
"Sorry," my attacker said as the blade ripped into my abdomen. "Really sorry."
I was sorry too. Wasn't my foes I needed to worry about.
I dropped, gasping and clutching the wound, the weapon clattered to the floor beside me along with the cloth he'd used to wipe it clean. He melted away into the steamy mist.
Into the mist seemed to be where I was headed too. Pauley led the next group into the locker room.
He found me bleeding on the tile and screamed, "He's dead! He's dead! He's dead!"
Not yet, I thought. But maybe soon. Shit. I didn't want to die.
"Babe."
Then darkness.
#####
Cold panic! Icy dread! Glacial paralyzing fear!
#####
Pound! Pound! Pound!
Pound! Pound!
"It's 4:30 in the fuckin' mornin'," I growled pulling up sweats on the way to the door. "What the hell couldn't wait until..."
"Tank! Tank!" Pound! Pound!
Steph! Jesus!
I yanked at the door. She stood there fragile, pale and shaking, dressed in a too big black T-shirt and a blanket.
"Tank! Oh! Tank!"
I heard my cell phone ringing. Behind me, wherever I had abandoned it when I went to bed. I ignored it to take Steph into my arms.
"Steph, Baby Girl, what's the matter?"
"Tank," she cried. "Ranger's in trouble!"
A moment later when I checked my missed call, the ID read - Mercer County Jail.
Shit! No!
TBC