A/N: I use them for fun and not for profit.

Chapter 26

Las Vegas. Singh was in Las Vegas and Stephanie was going to get him. He told her he couldn't go, that he was not welcome in Las Vegas. At one time it was true. There'd been a small problem with a capture. His attorney had fixed the problem months ago, but still he used it as an excuse. She had to be kept safe, from him, as well as her crazy stalker. The thought of spending a night far from the Burg alone with her was something he wouldn't let himself think about. He didn't trust himself, so he sent Tank.

He hoped catching Singh was simple and they'd be home in a day, but it seemed, with Stephanie, there were always complications. He was staying in Trenton and researching the Cone brothers. He felt sure the answer to the stalker could be found inside TriBro. He was sitting at his desk, trying to concentrate on the data on Bart Cone, the most likely suspect. Tank was busy, following Stephanie, watching her pack for the trip and keeping her safe. It should have been him, but there was a limit to his control and Las Vegas was beyond the limit.

When Tank called from the airport Ranger knew the news would be bad. It was.

"They got on the plane without me," Tank said. "Security flagged me because I had no luggage. Apparently a black man with no luggage ranks high on the terrorist watch list. The next flight I can get will be tomorrow. If things go as planned they should be getting ready to head back home about the time I get there."

"What do you mean, they?" Ranger asked.

"Connie and Lula are traveling with her," Tank said.

"Shit." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I have contacts in Vegas. I'll alert them and set up bodyguards. You might as well stay here."

"Why aren't you going?" Tank asked. "I know there was trouble a few months ago with a skip you brought in, but I thought that was all cleared up."

"It is all cleared up," Ranger said. "I used that as an excuse because I have a meeting that I can't miss, and it's one I don't want to publicize." There was silence on the other end of the line. Ranger knew he didn't have to explain further, but Tank wasn't content to let him off the hook so easily.

"Where you going, and when are you leaving?"

"I don't have any details; all I have is a meeting. What I can tell you is that the possibility exists of a long-term assignment in South America." Again, there was silence and Ranger knew Tank was weighing his words.

"What country?"

"Colombia."

"And I suppose during this long-term assignment I will be in charge of RangeMan again," Tank said. "Not that I mind, but I thought this was your baby. I thought operating a security firm and being able to provide permanent, safe employment for the men you served with was your dream." Ranger didn't respond so Tank continued. "You need to consider retiring from your secondary field of employment, unless you have a death wish." He disconnected and Ranger was left holding his phone, feeling a little surprised that Tank's comments had gotten under his skin. He called Vegas and made arrangements for the protection of Stephanie, Lula and Connie and said a silent prayer that the Vegas operatives would be up to controlling what could so easily turn into chaos.

An hour later Tank was slouched in the chair in front of Ranger's desk. "Do you have things lined up in Vegas?" he asked Ranger.

"Yeah, they're still in the air, but when they land they will be met at the airport and supplied with the equipment they need. She's very capable, but things always go wrong."

"She is capable," Tank agreed. "And she has a remarkable amount of luck. She'll get Singh probably without any problem, as long as Lula and Connie stay out of her way. When is your meeting?"

"Tonight. I'm going to Dix about nine. I'll be given as many details as they see fit. If I say I'll go I will be put on reserve and could be called any time in the next three months."

"It's your choice to make," Tank said. "I signed on for the duration here, and I'll do whatever is necessary. I know enough about your plans for the future of RangeMan to wonder why you'd consider leaving for a long-term assignment. The company is growing faster than you thought it would. I don't think money is your primary motivating factor. What is?"

Ranger lifted an eyebrow in surprise. Money was not his motivating factor. "It's what I do best," he said. It was the truth and it wasn't. He was good at what he did, but there were others as good. His ego wouldn't allow him to verbalize that his time was running out. Age was relative and being in his early thirties meant his time as a functional field operative was limited. They both knew it.

He needed to get a handle on his feelings for Stephanie. She was an unexpected complication and there was no room for her in his plan. He wasn't so arbitrary he couldn't change his plan, but he couldn't change his past life experiences and they would put her in danger. They always struck at the enemy's most vulnerable spot and she could make him very vulnerable, if he allowed it.

Tank sat watching the emotions play over Ranger's face and he felt obliged to say what was on his mind. "I don't watch Morelli because it's my hobby," he said. "I watch Morelli because she's so important to you. I don't pretend to understand why you are pushing her away, or why you are manufacturing excuses to keep her away. That's your business, and although I'd like to, I won't comment on it."

Ranger stared at Tank and wondered if Tank had been holding back since the morning he'd seen him leave Steph's apartment.

"There is another aspect to the special ops business," Tank said. "I know how good you are. I owe my life to you. What happened in Colombia was enough for me. I won't go back for a possible second dose. You're good, but you're not infallible and you need to rethink your motives. You have other responsibilities now that you didn't have when you were on active duty. I can take care of RangeMan, but it's your responsibility. And what about the responsibility you have to Stephanie? You were her mentor. When does that quit? She depends on you, whether you'll admit it or not."

Tank's words were unwelcome to Ranger, because he took his mentoring of Stephanie seriously. He took her stand on casual sex seriously as well, that's why he'd sent her back to Morelli. And now he knew why she'd gone. It didn't seem like the action of a woman who depended on him, but Morelli's comments changed everything.

"She's not sleeping with Morelli," Ranger said. He remembered, well, Morelli's statement that she was staying with him to keep Ranger at a distance. He didn't know if that was because she was upset with him or if she didn't trust herself around him, but either way he chose to ignore it.

"She's using Morelli as a shield against her mother's match-making attempts," he told Tank. "They are not together romantically. Morelli came to RangeMan to make me aware of that, and to ask me to have you cease and desist." He saw the surprise in Tank's eyes at the way he chose to answer the question. It was as close to meaningful conversation as he was going to get. Ranger stood and walked to the door of his office.

"I've got to go," he said to Tank who was comfortably reclined in the chair. "If you like that damned chair so much have Woody order one for your own office."

"Ana bought me one for the house," Tank replied, and he couldn't resist smiling as Ranger slammed the door and left him sitting alone in the office.

Twenty-four hours later Ranger was once again in his office with Tank. He'd had a call from both Stephanie and Morelli. Singh was dead. The stalker had gotten to him before Stephanie had. It was a definite game step-up on the part of the stalker. He was biding his time playing with Stephanie, and Ranger was determined to get him before she was injured. Morelli had similar feelings and he was picking Stephanie up at the airport. They both agreed he'd turn her over to RangeMan in the morning and she wouldn't go unguarded, even for a minute.

"Singh is dead," Ranger said. "Vinnie will get his money so he's happy. And he'll have Stephanie back at work skip-tracing tomorrow. He has a bunch of low-level FTAs he's been holding on to, concentrating his manpower on getting Singh. She'll be busy tomorrow and I want you with her all day."

"I'm assuming she'll have Lula with her," Tank said. "I'll follow close behind. It's always interesting."

"Lula is driving back from Vegas. They recovered Singh's fiancée's dog and Lula is driving across country to deliver the animal. So I need you to work as Steph's partner tomorrow."

"Fine by me," Tank said. "I figured that would be something you'd want to do."

"I've got meetings with my attorney and with Holly," Ranger replied, "and I can't cancel them." He always had meetings with the accountant and with his attorney before he left on a mission.

"You're going then?" Tank asked him.

"I haven't decided," Ranger said, "but I need to be ready, should I choose to go."

The next morning Ranger walked into the bonds office to find Stephanie and Tank sitting side-by-side on the brown couch, concentrating on a folder. They looked up when he came in and Stephanie smiled at him.

"Sorry about your Vegas guys," she said. "Lula didn't realize Salvatore was a RangeMan employee or she never would have tackled him."

The corners of Ranger's mouth turned up slightly. "It's okay, the doctor said he'd only need a month of physical therapy. That must have been some tackle." He shrugged. "Things happen."

"And usually I'm involved," she said on a sigh. "But today I've got Tank. Things will go smoothly, I can feel it." She turned to the big man at her side. "Do you want to drive or ride shotgun?"

Tank's eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch and Ranger smiled at his expression. He knew from previous experience, Tank only rode shotgun to him. Stephanie correctly interpreted Tank's look of astonishment.

"It's the twenty-first century," she told Tank. "Women drive."

"Only in my bed," Tank said. "Never in my car." He shot Ranger a look and smiled when he saw the scowl, knowing Ranger was thinking of his sister. "Not that I'm speaking in specifics," he said, and began the low rumble that erupted into a full-baritone laugh. Stephanie looked from Tank to Ranger and rolled her eyes. She and Tank left the office and Tank was still chuckling when he boosted her up into the passenger seat of the big black SUV.

The call came mid-afternoon. He saw her name on the caller ID and took a deep breath before he answered.

"Yo."

"We got our skip," she said. "But…"

"Who got shot?" Ranger interrupted.

"No one, but Tank's leg is broken. I've called 911."

"Is the RangeMan SUV parked anywhere near you?" he asked.

"Yes, it's just down the street."

"How bad is Tank?"

"It's pretty bad. Butchy fell off the roof and landed right on Tank. Tank keeps saying, 'Just shoot me'."

"Stay where you are," Ranger told her. "The SUV has a tracker and I'll be there as soon as I can." He went into the control room and looked around. He saw Cal and made a quick decision. "Come with me, you're on bodyguard duty as of now."

Ranger and Stephanie stood side-by-side and watched the ambulance disappear around the corner. "I need to go to the hospital and get Tank admitted," Ranger said. "I've asked Cal to follow you around." He followed Stephanie's gaze and took an objective look at Cal, trying to see him through her eyes. He was a big, bald-headed guy, neatly dressed in black jeans and T-shirt. He had his muscle-bound, bulging arms crossed over his massive chest and his tiny eyes fixed on Ranger, waiting for direction.

"Cal has a flaming skull tattooed onto his forehead. And he has muscles in places muscles aren't supposed to grow," Stephanie said, standing on tiptoe and speaking quietly into Ranger's ear.

Ranger pulled her to him and kissed her on the forehead. "You two are going to get along just fine." Ranger stepped back and turned to Butchy, who was sitting cuffed and shackled on the curb. He grabbed Butchy, dragged him to his feet and handed him over to Cal, then he turned and walked back to his Porsche and left for the hospital.

The next call came several hours later. He was in his apartment waiting for the call from the hospital saying they'd released Tank.

"About Cal..." she said. "He's sort of out of commission."

"Used to be you destroyed my cars," Ranger said.

"Yeah, those were the good old days."

"How bad is it?"

"Valerie's water sort of broke on him and he fainted. Bounced his head on the floor a couple times when he went down. Lucky, he was in the hospital when it happened. He was looking a little dopey, so they took him somewhere for testing."

"St. Francis?"

"Yep."

"I'm on my way."

It was well after midnight when he let himself back into his apartment. He walked straight to the kitchen and opened the corner cabinet. He found the seldom used bottle of Glenfeddich and poured himself two fingers of the scotch before he settled into the armchair in the living room. It had been a night of many revelations and he needed to think before he went to bed for a few short hours of rest, before the new day started.

He'd found Cal in the emergency department. The poor guy had been traumatized by his shower of amniotic fluid and the sight of a baby foot protruding from Valerie's vagina. Ranger couldn't blame Cal for passing out. It seemed like the reasonable solution to an unbelievable situation.

He found Tank in another bay of the emergency department, and he wasn't alone. His sister Ana had looked up in surprise as Ranger entered the room. Tank and Ana had been engaged in a lively conversation and he'd stood back and watched. He was an expert at people watching. Reading body language and facial nuances had saved his life more than once. He read something very interesting between Ana and Tank. They didn't have the particular ease that came from intimacy. They weren't lovers. Tank had gone out of his way to imply the opposite to Ranger. Now wasn't the time, but he'd be making time to ask Tank what the hell kind of game he was playing.

Neither Tank nor Cal were being kept overnight and Ranger had called Bobby to come and get the men, because the one person he couldn't find was Stephanie.

He found Morelli, who was also looking for Stephanie and together they found her lying unconscious on a sidewalk near the ER. There was a dead man lying next to her. He knew a moment of terror until he saw her chest rise with a breath. As soon as Morelli realized she was breathing he'd grabbed her gun. It hadn't been fired and Ranger had seen the relief in his eyes. She wasn't the killer, and they both had a good idea who was.

He sipped his scotch and remembered the things Morelli had told him about Stephanie's role in his life. It was obvious he cared for her and Ranger was unconvinced Morelli meant it when he said he was through with her. Between them, the plan had been made. Morelli would take her to his home and then take her to the police station in the morning to get her statement. When the danger from the stalker was over, Stephanie would move back into her own apartment. The thought comforted him and he refused to consider why.

Tomorrow would be his day with Stephanie. Ranger lifted the glass to his mouth and emptied it, relishing the burn down the back of his throat. He'd keep her safe. Keeping her safe was the only important thing.

The day started early. He made a quick stop at Tank's house to see if there was anything his second in command needed, and to see if Ana was in residence. She wasn't. Tank was up and dressed in RangeMan black, the typical cargos replaced by a pair of black sweats. His cast, which extended to just below the knee was black and unwieldy, but the big man was doing a good job of getting around with one crutch.

"Guess I'm on desk duty for the next three weeks, at least," he told Ranger.

"I'll put you with Rodriguez," Ranger said. "He can use the help."

"The hell you will," Tank groused. "I'll take monitor duty and you can send someone else down to Rodriquez."

"We'll argue about that later," Ranger said. "Right now, I've got to get down to Trenton PD and pick Stephanie up." At Tank's questioning look he detailed the previous evening's events for him.

"Suddenly, this broken leg doesn't look so bad when I hear what happened to Cal," Tank said. He pointed to his cast and said, "You know, it wasn't her fault." Ranger made no comment and left Tank to his own devices. He didn't think a cast would keep Tank down for long.

He found Stephanie looking a little worse for wear waiting for him with Morelli close at her side.

"She's all yours for the day," Morelli told him.

Ranger waited until they were in his Carrera and then he turned to look at her.

"You're all mine today, Babe."

"I have things that have to be done," she said. "I need to go to the mall to get my hair fixed. My stalker gave me a lousy haircut last evening." He turned the Porsche toward the mall, a place he normally avoided, but found he didn't mind so much when he was in her company.

Her hair was four inches shorter on one side than the other and it took Mr. Alexander, her hairdresser, almost an hour to turn her impromptu haircut into something symmetrical. When he was finished her hair was short, shorter than Ranger'd ever seen it. It touched her collar in the back and had a wispy charm that gave her face a gamine quality and made her eyes look enormous.

Ranger could see she was uncertain about the reflection staring back at her when she viewed her new haircut. He went and stood behind her, checking her out. "Cute," he said.

"Last time my hair was this short I was four years old."

When they were back in the car she turned to Ranger. "Is it really cute or were you just trying to keep me from shrieking?"

He ran a hand through her hair. "It's sexy," he said. And he kissed her. He didn't think; he just acted. His tongue was in her mouth and she returned the kiss with fervor. He silently cursed the Carrera. If he'd had his truck, he'd have pulled her onto his lap. The urge to have close physical contact with her was overwhelming. His hands were in her hair and he left one at the back of her head while the other trailed down and skimmed over a t-shirt-covered breast. He felt the pucker of her nipple, even through her shirt and bra. And then she pulled back.

"Hey," she said. "We're not supposed to be doing that, it's against the rules."

"Rules change, Babe."

"I'm with Morelli," she said. "You told me to repair my relationship with him. He trusts you with me. You shouldn't betray his trust."

"Morelli trusts me to protect your life and with that I'm trustworthy." He turned the key in the ignition. "Buckle up for safety, Babe. We're on our way to TriBro."

He was quiet as they made their way across town. He wondered if she was baiting him when she'd said she was with Morelli. She had no way of knowing that Morelli'd told him a different story, and he wouldn't tell her of his conversation with Morelli. She'd been adamant that she didn't do casual sex and he couldn't let anything happen between them that could be classified as anything but casual. He'd been an optimist thinking one night would be enough. It was a lose-lose situation.

He pulled into the parking lot of a moving and storage company next to TriBro and shut off the ignition. Their eyes met in a long and steady look before he broke contact and reached into the back seat. He held the small black box in his hand for a moment before opening it.

"I'm going to wire you. I want to make sure you're safe in there."

"You're not going in?"

"No one will talk to you if I'm along."

She raised an eyebrow.

Ranger did the almost grin thing again. "Sometimes people find me to be a little scary."

"No! Shocking. You ever think about losing the gun? Or dressing normal?"

He opened the box and removed a matchbook-size recorder. "I have an image to maintain."

She was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. Ranger looked at her t-shirt for a moment before he reached out to her. "I don't think I need a wire," she said.

He pulled her shirt out of her jeans and slid his hands under the shirt. "You're not going to ruin this for me, are you? I've been looking forward to this." He secured the recorder against her breastbone, just below her bra, with two crisscrossed pieces of surgical tape. The wire with the pin-head microphone ran between her breasts. He saw her head go down to the front of her shirt as he pulled his hands out and smoothed the edge of the t-shirt. He followed her gaze and saw her nipples clearly outlined against her shirt. Their eyes met and held.

"Ready to rock 'n' roll," Ranger said in a gravelly voice. He turned the key in the ignition and spun the Porsche out of the moving and storage lot and into the TriBro lot.

When she came out of the TriBro building she quickly got in the Porsche and ripped the wire off, not giving him a chance to put his hands back under her shirt. It had been wasted time, as far as gathering information went, and Ranger thought maybe his mentoring wasn't quite over.

"We need to discuss interrogation techniques sometime, Babe," he told her.

"It's you. You make me nervous," she told him. He didn't respond, but he knew making her nervous was a sign that she wasn't immune to him, no matter what her stand on casual sex was.

The rest of the day was comprised of business as usual for Stephanie. They brought in an FTA, who shot at them, but missed, and they met with Singh's former fiancée and her mother to tell them the details of Singh's death.

The stalker wasn't as clever as he thought he was, and it was just a matter of time till they caught him. Ranger and Morelli agreed the best way to keep her safe was to let her go on with her life and make sure she was never alone. RangeMan would have Stephanie duty the next day while Morelli was working and then he'd take over and it would continue until they caught the carnation killer, who had Stephanie in his sights.

When Ranger delivered Stephanie back to Morelli's house, Morelli came out on the porch to meet them. There was something about the easy way Morelli threw his arm around her shoulders that unsettled Ranger.

"It's been quiet," Ranger said. "No shooting. No one tailing us. No death threats or poison darts."

Morelli nodded and he and Ranger stood for a moment taking one another's measure. "Your watch," Ranger said to Morelli. And he left. He drove in silence from Morelli's to RangeMan and he wondered. He didn't trust Morelli despite his declaration of his and Steph's non-relationship status.

Ranger walked across the control room floor and was not surprised to see Tank, sitting with a casted leg extended at an unusual angle, in front of a monitor.

"What are you doing here?" he asked Tank.

"My leg hurts like a son-of-a-bitch," Tank said. "It's just as easy to be in pain here as it is at home."

"Your dedication is noted," Ranger said wryly. "As a matter of fact, I'd like to reward your dedication."

Tank looked up at Ranger who was standing close to him. Ranger leaned down and said in a quiet voice, "I want you to continue the surveillance on Morelli. I want to know who he fucks, and who he looks twice at. I want a full-out tail on him and I want to know if he touches Stephanie. You can coordinate the detail, and you can use all our resources."

Tank stood awkwardly and put his arm on Ranger's shoulder to balance. "I'm already on it," he said.

Ranger took the stairs to his apartment. He pulled his key pad and fobbed open the lock. He went directly to the kitchen cabinet and pulled down the bottle of Glenfeddich. He filled his glass and made his way into the living room. They'd catch this motherfucker who was stalking Stephanie, and then Stephanie would move out of Morelli's and back to her apartment. He'd see to it.