I returned to Rangeman with Tank and Ranger. Bobby wasn't as pleased to see us as I would have imagined. It was shift change, and Bobby was bringing Lester up to speed. The communication between the four men was unspoken, but a lot was being said. I only caught some of it. Ranger caught all of it.

Lester and Bobby went to the stairs, presumably headed for four. Tank took the helm, and Ranger went to his office. I was left standing there in the middle of the control room wondering what just happened.

I followed Ranger. He was sitting behind his desk, apparently catching up on the day's events.

"Any more emergencies?" I asked.

"No. We've moved beyond that."

"How long do you think this is going to go on?" I asked.

"As long as it has to."

"Is there anything I can do that would actually help you?"

Ranger stopped typing and looked at me, serious. "Babe, you already have. But right now, I need to catch up on some things."

"Ok," I said, getting up from my seat. "I'll be on seven."

"I'll be up around midnight, if I can. Don't wait up," he said, turning back to the computer screen.

I took the elevator to Ranger's apartment, said hello to Rex, and took a long, hot shower. It had been an exhausting day. I didn't see how Ranger and Tank could find all that sneaking around relaxing. Not to mention, knowing what they did about Donaldson.

I put on sweats and a t-shirt and assumed my thinking position on Ranger's bed. Thinking about Lawrence made me itch all over, so I tried to focus on my next move. I needed to get a bead on Masterson.

Connie made me a copy of the file while we were at the office. Masterson was wanted for triple homicide. He was originally hauled in on multiple drug charges. While out on bail, he murdered the three men who were scheduled to testify against him. He wasn't exactly the sharpest tack on the corkboard, because he shot all three of them while they were drinking together in a bar full of witnesses. So now, instead of facing three witnesses on drug charges, he was facing a dozen or more witnesses in a murder trial. Vinnie hadn't foreseen this circumstance when he posted bail. Masterson's mother had put her house up for collateral, but it wasn't close to worth the $500,000 Vinnie was going to be out.

There weren't very many people who would harbor a fugitive like Masterson. When I was first handed the case by Vinnie, I checked with all of his relatives and acquaintances, beginning with his mother and ending with his high school guidance counselor. Masterson couldn't leave drugs alone, so he couldn't be trusted to deal. He was an alcoholic that couldn't function without booze, and he had no job skills whatsoever. That meant he was only good for one thing at this point. Murder. And gangs were always looking to recruit shooters with no other options. That was where I would put my money, if I had any.

So, what gang would take a scumbag like Masterson? He was white, so that ruled out the Black and Hispanic gangs. He wasn't Irish or Italian. As far as I knew, that pretty much narrowed it down to the Aryan Brotherhood. They were mostly a prison gang, but they needed guys on the outside. To be a member, you had to have killed someone, no problem there, but you got in by invitation only. It would take some time for word about Masterson's impressive resume to travel up and down the prison pipeline. He missed his court date 10 days ago. By my estimation, Masterson was still lying low in Trenton, waiting for an invitation. But once he got the invite, the Brotherhood might make him disappear to any state in the union, or Guam. And that could happen any day now. And there was little chance of finding Masterson then.

There was no way Ranger was going to let me leave Rangeman to hunt down a member of the Aryan Brotherhood so I could follow him to his hideout and hope I lucked into finding Masterson. Also, if this line of reasoning had occurred to me, it surely had occurred to Vinnie and Vinnie would have send Joyce to check it out. Except that Joyce was busy checking out Morelli.

My phone was ringing in my bag in the hall. I rolled off the bed and went to answer it. It was Connie.

"I'm so pumped I can't sleep. Tell me what's going on at Rangeman. Lula's telling me Tank is still on lock-down and she doesn't know when she'll see him again. I thought everything was okay. The guys weren't acting all military-tense today."

"They were taking a little break from their mission," I explained. "It's back to business now."

"So, are you on lock down again?"

"I think so."

"I thought you were going after Masterson."

"I was just thinking about that. Did you happen to hear Vinnie talking to Joyce about the Aryan Brotherhood?"

"The Aryan Brotherhood? No. Why?" She sounded concerned.

"I just can't figure who else would give Masterson a job right now. He needs to relocate. That's the only solution I can think of."

"That's some good thinking," Connie said, mulling it over. "Let me ask Hank to keep his ears open. You wouldn't believe the things people will say while they're in a convenience store. It's like Hank is invisible or something."

"Thanks," I said. "How's that going, anyway?"

"Wonderful," Connie said, her silly love-sick grin actually audible.

"Wow. So, have you been seeing a lot of each other?"

"Yeah, sort of. First, I went over to his house and we found Joyce's bugs. I told him to leave them there. So, he's been leading Kevin on wild goose chases all over town, and we've been camped out to watch."

"He's learning from the best," I told her.

"Yeah. Hank's a fast learner. He could do it without me, but he waits for me. Says I'm his good luck charm."

"That's sweet," I told her. "Be careful with Lawrence tomorrow."

"Don't worry. I got this." And she disconnected.

I was about to put my phone away, when I realized I had received a text message with a file attachment. It was from Ram. Joyce had left Anita another message. I played the file.

"I know you visited Grant Lawrence. I'm onto you. And when I find you, believe me, you'll wish you had never been born."

Nice. It was good to know I could get her blood pressure up that high. Imagine how much angrier she would be if she knew it was me. I grimaced, then corrected myself. That was the old Stephanie with the squishy insides. This was the new Stephanie. The pissed off Stephanie. The Stephanie that was not going to take any more crap from Joyce. I focused on Joyce, going through the mental flash cards. Starting with kindergarten, I reviewed every humiliation from grade school to graduation. I lingered for a moment on the Dickie fiasco. I looked at the new cards for Anders and Mary Lou, David Rogenbach, Wayne Brandt, and Grant Lawrence. And last but not least, Vinnie. Joyce had taken two jobs from me. I grit my teeth and renewed my vow to get to the bottom of this.

I returned my thoughts to Masterson, warming even more to the thought of stealing my skip back from Joyce.

I assumed The Aryan Brotherhood was one gang Ranger didn't have connections with. Connie was busy with Lawrence. Lula wasn't going to be helpful on this one. I was on lock down. Ram was already keeping tabs on Joyce for me. I was running thin on back up.

I felt a stab of jealousy as I involuntarily thought of Jeanne Ellen Burrows. What would Jeanne Ellen do? First off, Jeanne Ellen is competent and Ranger wouldn't have to put her into protective custody. Second, Jeanne Ellen is a bad ass and she'd just march in there and take her man. Who would stop her? I tried to picture me doing that. Even in Rangeman black, I wasn't seeing it. I didn't have that fearless look in my eyes. I had a lot of fear. I could attract a man's attention, but I didn't intimidate. Men tended to reach out and try to grab me. Then I lost it and went kicking and flailing and usually came out on top.

But it was more likely I would get in over my head, and Ranger would have to come get me, and then Rangeman would be fighting two battles instead of one. I nixed that idea.

I flopped back down on the bed. I needed some way to draw Masterson out. But even if I did, I wasn't legally authorized to make the capture. But I didn't really want to capture Masterson, at least, not yet. What I really wanted was to blackmail Vinnie into telling me what he knew about Joyce. And to do that, I didn't actually need to know where Masterson was. I just needed Vinnie to think I did.

Grinning, I slipped under the covers and turned off the light. Soon, I was dreaming I was wrapped in Ranger and Bulgari.

When I woke up, it was late morning...in Maine.