Thank you for all the great reviews. You guys are too kind. And a big thank you to Margaret too for reading ahead as my beta.

Chapter 21

As predicted, Annie didn't resist. She got into the Cayenne with Lester, grandma and myself and we took her to the cop shop in Trenton. Grandma said she wanted to see the inside of a police station without being the one arrested, so the two of us took Annie in while Lester kept the car comfortable. It was still sweltering in New Jersey.

After we dropped grandma back at home and declined her invitation of lunch, Les and I headed onto I-195. East to Pt. Pleasant.

"Well that turned out ok," I told him in contrast to some of the more disastrous pickups I've had.

"The more I think about it, the more something seems off. Sure you don't want to start that search on Littlefield today?"

"I just don't want to get stuck in my cube this afternoon. Carlos and Hector we're going to look at that estate in Hamilton after they finished the install nearby."

"I know. And you think he's going to like it and want to bring you out to see it?"

"Yes. I have a feeling it's what he's looking for. He says it has acreage and that the house is set way back from the road. I asked Hector to give me his honest opinion of the place. Carlos has a way of making things he doesn't agree with disappear."

"So, you've noticed that too."

"How could you not? Don't you ever wonder about some things?"

"All the time. But I've known Ranger and Tank a lot longer than you and getting things done or making them disappear is what they do best."

"I gather," I answered, thinking about Eddie Abruzzi. Someday I'd ask Carlos about that one.

We drove for a little while in silence and finally Les turned the radio on. The Cayenne was wired with Sirius XM and I'd had the dial set on 2 for the top forty. Dear Future Husband by Meghan Trainor was currently blaring out of the speakers and 'I never learned to cook, but I can write a hook' made me think of myself. Not that I can write a hook but I could probably rhyme something.

"Carlos and I are going into New York this evening for a cooking class," I told Les over Meghan.

"I know and I gave him the keys to my pad. You guys can stay over if it gets too late or you just feel like staying in the city. I'm not going there until the weekend and my service will clean up after you leave."

"Nice life you have Les."

"Hey, you could have it too; just tell Ranger what you want. I don't think he'd deny you anything."

"I don't want things for myself that way. That's cheating. I want to be able to support myself."

"Sorry, that didn't come out the way I meant it to. I take it you made quite a bit of money from that Vlatko job. You can use some of it to buy yourself some things. Ranger will never tell you that you can't have or do anything. He may offer to pay for it, but he won't deny you."

"See that's part of the problem. I don't feel like I earned that money and unlike you or Carlos, my ability to make more the same way is limited. I was just lucky."

"Bullshit Steph. Your quick thinking saved thousands of lives. That's worth money. And I know you have the skills to make more of it the same way, I've been on distractions with you. You play your role and you do it well. Ranger has been very proud of you."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Don't whatever me Stephanie. You have to believe in yourself. Someone did a good job of making you feel unworthy. I'm not sure who, but I have my guesses and I've heard those why me tirades."

"Well, I was always fucking up. I jumped off the garage roof because I wanted to see if I could fly — among other things. I think I've given her enough fuel for a few centuries of why mes."

"But that is no reason to undermine your self-esteem. And it seems to me she's done a pretty good job of that. Along with my apartment, I'll offer you my shrink."

"You have a shrink?"

"We all do. These missions fuck with your head and when we get back we need someone to put it on straight again. Ranger and Tank talk to Mal Converse. We don't see eye-to-eye, so my go to person is Dave Armstrong in New York. He gets me. Want me to introduce you?"

"Not now. I don't have time for ten years of therapy."

"It won't take ten years and he makes house calls. He comes to see me at Rangeman. I'm not trying to force him on you or anything but I think a few sessions might help you. And he'd agree with you trying to fly."

"I'll let you know. For now Skeeball is the kind of therapy I'm looking forward to. Are you ready for me Les?"

"Barely, Killer. Look Steph, I've driven around twice. There's no parking anywhere near the arcade. I say we park here and walk. We can walk along the beach."

"No spots?"

"None that are legal. And they'll tow you here. It's not like Trenton."

"Ok. Let's park."

Lester's POV

Steph and I were in a good place, just like old times. She was trusting me and I could fuck this all up by getting her to run, in which case she would never trust me again, or I could just drop my fool ass bet. I'd play it by ear. Maybe I could get her to run a block or so without her catching on to what I was doing — staying back and gathering the evidence — or I'd drop it. It wasn't like it was a cash bet; it was just something I knew I could achieve and I wanted to prove to Ranger that I could get her ass moving.

We both took our shoes off when we hit the sand. We walked for a bit in the direction of the arcade when Steph noticed that she'd dropped one of her flip flops somewhere. I knew the exact course we'd taken so I jogged it in reverse to find her shoe. Once I had it in my possession, I started running towards her. I looked up to see her taking pictures of me. What the fuck?

"So much for your stupid bet Lester. When Carlos told me what you planned, I told him that I could make the opposite happen and that I'd shoot some video of you running and send it to him."

"You dropped the shoe on purpose?"

"I did."

"You are a dirty player; no wonder you outsmarted Vlatko. You'll do well in this business."

"Thanks Les," she said with a big grin on her face. "Now tell me why this stupid bet of yours was so important."

"Maybe I just wanted to see your ass jiggle?"

"You are disgusting, and you think I play dirty?"

Shit. I didn't want to get into a fight with her, we were doing so well.

"Listen Steph, I'm sorry. I meant no disrespect and I lied about your ass. Ranger would kill me if he knew I told you that. I just wanted to see if I could do it. And it looks like you outsmarted me. Good job, Killer."

Steph's POV

I felt good about myself as I emailed my video off to Carlos. Les never saw himself being set up. So much for someone who claims to be aware of his surroundings at all times. Maybe getting over on someone was my therapy. It certainly felt nice. And now I'd beat his ass at Skeeball and we'd get a couple of swirly cones. Perfect day in my world.

'I got Les,' I texted Carlos along with the video.

'Nice job. I want to hear all about it. Hector and I are looking at the estate. R U on your way home?'

'No. We're at Pt. Pleasant. Going to whip Santos' ass at Skeeball, get a swirly cone for lunch then we're heading back to Trenton.'

'All that sugar will kill you.'

'Yeah, but what a way to go.'

'Santos 2, I presume?'

'Not sure but I think so. It was his idea.'

'Tell him mats at 6 am.'

'He didn't get a chance to outsmart me. I don't think he needs the mats. Wait till I start spreading the story around. That will be enough punishment.'

'Babe.'

'Fill me in on the estate.'

'So far, looks good. The house needs a lot of work. Want to get Valdez in here to take a look before I make a bid. And I want U 2 see it 2. We can come by tomorrow. Hector needs some parts for the old alarm system so we have to head back this way anyway. See you in a couple of hours?'

'Yes. I'll be back way before we have to leave for our cooking class.'

'Ok. See U soon.'

"Carlos likes the estate," I told Les, putting my phone back in my bag.

"You thought he would. What's the plan? Are you going to look at it?"

"Tomorrow. Now let's play Skeeball."

"Beat you," he said taking off at a slight jog. Just because I was feeling amicable, I jogged along beside him and his cellphone never came out to record any of it.

I slowed to a walk as we got close to the arcade, I didn't want to come in huffing and puffing. I have my very own Skeeball strategy, which is about as centered as I ever get. Kind of like Carlos' zone. You see, I believe you can never get a ball in the 100 point slot, I think the machines are tilted so you can't, so I aim straight down the middle for 50 points and try to accumulate as many 50s as possible. Since Lester is a jock, he goes straight for the 100s, all the time. I've beaten him before and I intended to beat him again.

But sometimes things don't quite turn out the way you expect.

I just happened to glance over at Les' lane and saw him get a hundred pointer. What the fuck? That never happens. I figured maybe they fixed the tilt, so I tried for one. And missed. That also blew the fifty pointer I could have gotten had I never tried. Damn. Now I was down fifty. I looked over at Les again and saw him make another hundred. At this rate he was going to beat me since I only had two balls left. Quick as a bunny, I hit a fifty and then another.

"Four hundred," I called out, giving Les my less than perfect score.

"Seven fifty," he answered. "I win. Another game?"

"Ok, show me how you do it," I demanded of him. "It's impossible to hit a hundred points and I saw you do it twice."

"Three times," he answered. Ass. "You have to aim low and bounce it in."

I used to play softball with the guys when I was little and they taught me some tricks, like spitballs, but I wasn't sure that would work here.

I just looked at him quizzically.

"Want me to show you?"

I did, but I didn't. I liked figuring out things on my own and I liked beating him. But if I didn't let him show me, I wouldn't be able to beat him. It was a dilemma.

"Ok," I finally told him, giving in to the needing to know part of my brain.

"You know what the Bernoulli effect is, don't you?"

Instead of answering, I just shook my head. I didn't, although it sounded familiar.

"In a nutshell, it's what keeps airplanes in the air. Thrust plus pressure equals lift...or something like that. By bouncing the ball the pressure changes. Just try it and aim for the plastic wall in front of zero points to bounce it in. Oh and by the way, only the left side works."

Once again, I just looked at him.

"Ok, this game doesn't count, just consider it a practice session and I'll help you," he said, buying me another round.

My first few attempts failed miserably. Three balls down and zero points to show for it.

"Can I have the ball?" he asked before taking over. "Watch me," he added.

I watched him carefully aim for the plastic ridge and the ball just bounced right into the left-hand 100 point spot. He did it five times in a row.

"This is my personal best," he said, pointing to the score. Somehow he'd hit the mark just as the lightning bolt saying double points came on and he'd scored 1,000. I never saw anyone hit 1,000 before, not even Les. I had a feeling he was a master all along and was just fucking with me. Kind of like a card shark, he was probably a Skeeball shark.

"No, I'm not," he said, reading my mind. "I've only played this game three times in my life and all three were with you. I just like to win and I'm a quick read."

"How did you figure out that bounce thing then?"

"When I couldn't just aim for it and get it in, I took a chance and it worked. I can't get it to work on the right side though, but I bet I could if I were left-handed."

"Carlos can probably do it. He's ambidextrous."

"Should we challenge him?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye. Lester was asking for it.

"Yeah," I answered, probably knowing better, but up for the challenge.