Fun fact: I started this story almost exactly four years ago after completing my first NaNoWriMo. Well, I just finished my second NaNoWriMo and was thinking of going back to work on a fanfiction, and this was the only one I could get my muse to work with. I know it's been a long time since I updated this story (three and a half years) but I also know that there have been a lot of reviews and PMs requesting I continue and finish it, so I hope you all ignore my lack of commitment up to this point and appreciate the simple fact that I will always return to a story eventually.

Chapter 21

"And that's when your guy found us," I concluded. It had taken some time, during which I'd finished re-sorting the DVDs and collapsed onto the couch, but Bear was a good listener. And, miracle of miracles, no one interrupted. Probably, he'd told the guys about our progress from last night and they'd reluctantly agreed to let him have the floor. "We were heading to Dad's work to talk to his boss."

"From what I understand, so were Bobby, Hal and Tank," Bear replied.

I fiddled with the corner tassel of a cushion, pulling it into my lap as a sort of makeshift protective barrier. I knew what I had to say next. I knew I needed to get their side of the story. But I also knew I needed to keep my wits about me. It was harder to do when I didn't have Steve by my side. That was one thing I'd realised. For all his tough, survivor insistence, Dad had always thrown us into the deep end together. If one of us couldn't swim, the other was always there to help out. The only problem was, now I had Steve sulking upstairs, probably preparing some kind of siege on the men, while I was down here trying to trust at least one of them. It was unprecedented. We'd never confronted an obstacle so divided before. My confidence was a little shot.

"So how do you all end up in Colorado?" I asked, hugging the cushion to my chest.

Bear glanced toward the doorway, his head barely moving with the action. He was a study in stillness. Just like Dad. The more time I spent with him the more I could see the similarities between my father and this man. The restraint. The ever roving gaze. The sense of power hidden just under the surface. Even their postures were similar. I was starting to think, despite what I'd known my entire life that Dad had been in the military.

He'd told us he went to a strict boarding school and then on to college where he'd studied business and Russian literature. We'd figured his interest in camping and survival was just a hobby, or he was some kind of closet doomsday prepper. But the military made sense.

"Well," Bear finally said. "Safe and Sound Security – the company that provides security for your home – has quite an extensive list of instructions and protocols for a variety of situations regarding your family." He paused, letting that sink in. "My understanding is that at some point, your father entered a special code into the alarm keypad by the front door that activates one of these protocols. If he doesn't enter the code again twelve hours later, it triggers an alarm at Safe and Sound that sets in motion a sequence of actions including checking on the house, and attempting to get in contact with your father."

"Right," I nodded. That made sense. Dad had disappeared into the hall immediately after the newspaper incident.

"When Safe and Sound were unable to contact your father, the checked on the house, found it empty and immediately contacted the police, as per their instructions. That's how they located you and took you into custody."

There was a clatter from the other room and the men's voices raised a little, but Bear just rolled his eyes and gave an ever so slight shake to his head.

"Okay," I said slowly, trying not to think about what they could possibly be doing in my kitchen. "But how did you guys get here?"

"Another protocol. If your father is out of contact for longer than forty-eight hours, Safe and Sound is to call in Rangeman. That's us."

"But why?" I asked.

"Because your father used to be the owner and CEO of Rangeman," Bear stated simply. "And even though he faked his, and his family's death, knowing that he couldn't use their security detail for every day purposes, his company still makes him feel the safest. So he put the clause in. Plus there is the high likelihood that this situation is related to that of seventeen years ago."

"And that situation would be?" I prompted.

He shook his head again. "You'll have to talk to Tank if you want to know about that one," he said. "I know the basics, but I wasn't there when it happened. The others are adamant that if anyone is going to tell you about it, it's going to be them."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure. I'll get right on that."

"They're not as bad as they seem," he assured me. "They're just a little out of practice."

I tightened my grip on the cushion, wishing Steve weren't such a bull head, and had at least joined me for the explanation. There was no harm in learning their side of the story. It could give us an advantage. But he wasn't. He was up in Mom and Dad's closet, sulking and making weapons. In other words, a typical Monday night.

"So Safe and Sound called you out to take care of us?" I questioned.

"And to help find your parents," Bear confirmed.

"So how's that going?"

I almost jumped right out of my skin when Bear started to laugh. It was a rough, grating sound, and for a second I thought he was attempting to hack up a lung. When he didn't keel over, though, and I saw his smile, I realised he was in no danger. "Well," he said after a few moments when he'd calmed down once more. "Considering a certain pair of teenagers decided to break out of the protective custody they were in, and run about town evading the people trying to help them, we've been a little distracted on the locating your parents front."

"Right," I murmured, lowering my gaze to the coffee table. "Well, we weren't actually given any information about what was going on and who the people were, and we were brought up to be suspicious, sooo…."

"Don't sweat it, kid," Bear said. "You did what you thought you needed to in order to stay safe. Today we'll go talk to some people and figure out what happened to your parents."

I nodded, but couldn't think of anything to say, so I stayed silent. If he was telling the truth, if he and his colleagues were in fact here to help us, and the people who collected us from the police station were also trying to help, then my and Steve's actions had only hindered the efforts to locate Mom and Dad. Instead of looking for them, they were looking for us. That could be the difference between life and death for Mom and Dad. We'd unwittingly been hindering the search.

Panic constricted my chest. I wasn't ready for something fatal to happen to them. There was so much I still had to share with them. I wasn't even finished school. "What if we-" I started to voice my concerns, but Bear shook his head, cutting me off.

"I'm sure they'll be fine. They both have plenty of experience with this kind of situation. They may be a little out of practice, and they may not have ever been kidnapped together, but that's just going to work to their advantage."

"How?"

Bear gave me a look I couldn't quite read. "I may not know your parents personally, but I work in the company your father crafted with his bare hands, and your mother influenced beyond recognition. Stories of both their exploits are told in hushed, reverent tones. More like legends than memories. They're strong individually, but they're strongest together. If the men in your kitchen are to be believed, they are formidable. The ultimate power couple."

"Huh."

"Yeah."

"I want to hear about how my parents are really this Plum-Manoso pair," I admitted, finding that the more I heard about them, the more I believed that it was true. "But I also think we need to get a move on with the search for them. The last time I saw them was Friday morning. Anything could have happened to them."

"I agree," he said. "We should get this show on the road."

*o*

"Welcome to Robot Kitchen!" said a squirrelly looking man as we stepped through the automatic doors. "We're currently having a sale on dishwashers. If you're interested, head on down to the laundry room and one of our helpful sales assistants can assist you in picking out the perfect model for you."

"We need to speak to the manager," Pierre said. It was more of a grunt, really. He still was not in an especially great mood. Probably, it had to do with the fact that my brother was completely opposed to their help. He'd emerged from the master bedroom, not bothering to hide his wire creations, and announced that if they didn't all leave he'd start using them. The men had merely shrugged, having been preparing to head out anyway. But Pierre had tried to talk some sense into Steve. Steve wasn't very receptive, or kind. He still thought we shouldn't trust them, even though I'd pointed out that they had the same goal as us. If nothing else, we could piggy back their efforts, use them to find Mom and Dad.

And by that point we could have Mom and Dad verify their story themselves. It was the perfect course of action. But Steve was being a butt-head and refusing to cooperate with anyone. Including me.

So we'd left him behind at home. Hal and Cal were hanging out in the kitchen, carrying out a phone and internet search, while also ensuring Steve didn't do anything stupid in our absence. Bobby and Lester had been dispatched to go talk to Mom's boss and the cinema where she and Dad were supposed to go Friday night. And Pierre, Bear and I were here, at Dad's work to talk to Dad's boss. I had a feeling Pierre was going to be a liability in this search. He had attitude issues.

"Uh," the greeter stuttered. "I-if you have any issues with a purchase or would like to make an exchange, please see our customer services counter at the rear of the store." Clearly Pierre's size and growliness made him uncomfortable.

"The manager," he reiterated.

"Please," I added, stepping forward. "My father works here – Ric Garcia – he's missing and we need to talk to the manager to see if he knows anything."

"Woooaaahhh," the guy uttered, his cheerfully helpful façade dropping away. "Ric's missing? How? When? Dude, if he doesn't come back we're gonna have a lot of unhappy old ladies storming the demonstration counter."

"Demonstration counter?" Pierre asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Dad's like a minor celebrity around here," I explained. "The old ladies at the senior centre love his appliance demonstrations. They think he's hot. The other day he made one of them faint during his slicer demo."

"Slicer demon," he said slowly, like he didn't understand the words. "Your dad is a sales assistant."

I nodded. "Yes," I agreed. "And a whizz at the demo desk. He can sell anything. He uses innuendos and shit. It's utterly embarrassing."

"Dude, you should see it," the greeter enthused. "The store is always packed when he's on demo. He pulls in more sales in one day than the people trained for the desk do in a month. What happens is, one woman will come in, innocently looking to buy a new toaster, but she'll stop at the demo counter when she sees it's Ric. She'll text her friends and let them know. And they'll all text their friends and before you know it we have fifty women gathered around the desk and about fifteen husbands and partners wandering around the store. Sales skyrocket every time. He gets a lot of desk time through the holiday season and when we have special promotions on, because it draws more customers in."

Tank held up his hand, clearly having heard enough. "The manager?" he said, cutting off the greeter's fervent explanation.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he said, nodding as he pulled a walkie talkie off his belt. "Hey Norman, where you at?" A crackly, barely decipherable reply came through and then we were being directed toward and office at the back of the building. "Hey Norm," the greeter said, poking his head around the door frame. "I have Ric Garcia's daughter here with a couple of cranky men. Apparently Ric's missing?"

"No shit, Sherlock!" Norm commented. "I've got the newbie covering his shifts because that all I have available. Sales are already down fourteen percent and still dropping. I think I've noticed he's missing."

"Right," greeter agreed. "Well, I'm gonna send them in, then." And with that, he stepped back, ushering us through the doorway with a jerky, nervous motion. "Good luck," he murmured as I past him.

Norman was sat behind a small desk as we entered. It was almost entirely covered in papers, each of which had a coffee stain on it somewhere, the cup I assumed was the culprit sat on the computer tower. Probably not the best place for it. I paused just inside the door with Bear and Pierre behind me. "Uh-" I uttered.

"Take a seat, kid," Norman said bitterly, gesturing to the two chairs opposite him. "Who've you brought with you? Private investigators? Police? What?"

I glanced over my shoulder as I settled into the chair. The men both remained standing just behind me. "This is Bear and-"

"Tank," Tank inserted, thrusting his hand forward for Norman to shake. "We're security specialists from Trenton."

Norman did a double take. I suppose he hadn't really looked up from his computer screen until the massive hand was pushed into his field of vision. "Trenton? That's a bit of a trek for a missing person."

"The case is a little more complicated than that," Tank assured him, sliding gracefully into the chair beside me. I could almost detect the relief on his face at being off his feet. How much pain was he still in? "It has a lot of history involved. I won't bore you with the details but we believe Mr. Garcia has been kidnapped by an enemy from his past."

"From his past?" Norman and I asked in unison. I knew I should have insisted on hearing the origin story before we set out!

"I knew there was something off about him," Norman muttered. "No normal man looks like he does without being a con." He dropped his pen and leaned across the desk. "What's his crime? Robbery? Is he a jewel thief? Maybe a serial homewrecker? Murderer? He does have a way of luring people in. I always thought that'd be a convenient trait to have as a murderer."

"Dad is not a murderer," I snapped, suddenly on my feet.

"Settle down, Regina," Bear murmured, his paw clapping down on my shoulder as I surged forward – to do what I had no idea. "Take a seat." Reluctantly, I did as I was told. I was lucky they'd let me come. They wanted to leave me at home with Hal and Cal. If I didn't behave myself, I had no doubts they would send me back there without a second thought.

Tank cleared his throat, eyeing me grimly out of the corner of his eye. "Mr. Garcia was a highly trained Army Ranger and owner and chief operator of a highly reputable security company back in Trenton. He has made enemies the likes of which you could never imagine"

"You haven't seen a housewife the day after the blender special finishes," Norman muttered.

Tanks jaw clenched, and I could feel the tension radiating off Bear behind me. Dad's boss was trying their patience. If he wasn't careful, I had a feeling he'd be injured by the time we left. Something told me that was how these guys tended to work.

"What we need to know," Tank said through gritted teeth. "Is when you last saw Mr. Garcia."

Norman didn't even pause a second for thought. "He left at about six forty-five Thursday," he said. "Didn't bother showing up on Friday or Saturday."

"He didn't come to work on Friday?" I asked.

"That's what I said," he replied with an eye roll.

"Thanks for your time," Bear said. "We'll be leaving." And with that he dragged me out by the arm, Tank trailing behind us. Neither of them spoke until we were all safely ensconced in the SUV once more. I was not expecting that. I'd assumed Dad had been to work and had gone missing after. But if he didn't make it to Robot Kitchen then-

"What about Mom?" I asked from the back seat. "Dad was dropping her at work on Friday because they were supposed to go out after. It was their once a month date night routine."

"I'll call Lester and see what they've got," Tank mumbled, stabbing a finger at the screen in the centre console until it connected a call. No more than two rings filled the car before they were cut off, replaced by a voice.

"We were just about to call," he said. "Steph never made it to the morgue on Friday."

"Not good," Bear growled.

"Maybe they played hookie?" I suggested feebly. Dad had once picked me up from school early to take me to the zoo. Maybe Mom and Dad had decided to take the day off and make it a date weekend instead? But then, surely they would have let Steve and I know first. And they would have been back by now, too. No matter how I skewed it, it wasn't sounding great. Worst case scenario, they'd been missing for four days. I was not okay with that. I just wanted them to be okay, but with every new piece of information that I found it was looking less and less likely. Tears were beginning to prickle behind my eyes.

"What about the car?" Bear questioned gruffly. "Any sign of a red commodore, 776 QLD?"

"We're about to check the lot and the surrounding streets," Lester explained. "Man it's like something out of the Twilight Zone. Steph working in a morgue, Ranger selling white goods. Date night. A red commodore. It's like we're looking for alternate universe Steph and Ranger."

"We are looking for alternate universe Steph and Ranger," Tank confirmed. "We're looking for a Steph and Ranger who have been in hiding for seventeen years."

"We may need a little more information about their routines," Bear suggested, turning in his seat to face me. "What can you- shit."

I sniffed, swiping my hands over my eyes in an attempt to hide the tears threatening to fall. "Sorry," I murmured, trying hard to calm myself down, but it wasn't working so well. I was worried. I was concerned. And I was confused. I didn't know this Steph and Ranger person they kept referring to instead of my parents. I didn't know these men. I was starting to think I should have listened to Steve after all. I shouldn't have shared any information with them. I shouldn't have believed them. I should have just hidden away in the closet with Steve.

"I have to go," Tank said, adjusting the rear view mirror so he could see me without turning around and potentially throwing his back out again. "Call if you find anything."