Chapter 28

The office was on the fifth floor of The Weilwood Building. It sat smack dab in the middle of the financial district not far from Dickey Orr's most recent establishment. Weilwood was modern with white walls & black marble floors, Amish made oak tables next to dark burgundy leather couches and comfortable chairs. Recessed lighting gave the interior ambiance, a feeling of calm control. However I did not feel calm or controlled when Hal and I stepped into Michael Rosewall's office.

We didn't wait to be invited in, and didn't see the need to wait our turn. We walked in with his secretary on our heels, screaming "You need to have an appointment!"

Rangeman was spending an enormous amount of money to have Rosewall on call. Yet, he was not on call. He was not doing his job, and I was getting tired of his excuses. We went to see him expecting answers.

What I didn't expect was Tank. Both Hal and I stopped in our tracks.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Tank got to his feet. "Probably the same thing as you. To find out what the hell is going on."

Rosewall slouched in his chair. His hands folded. Two body guards stood flanking him. Guns under suit jackets, arms casually slid inside. Fingers most likely on the triggers of Glocks.

"Click." I heard the sound of a Sig, like mine.

They were big men. Not at all like the ones that came through our office the day we hired Michael. The light from the florescence bounced off their shiny domed heads, accenting the bad ass bodyguard image. They dressed alike, they looked alike. They were twins, I could swear it. Michael opened his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of generic antacids. He popped the top and poured three of them into his palm and knocked them back, chewing.

"Stephanie, Hal. Please sit."

Hal didn't move. Either did I. "I'll stand, thanks."

Rosewall shrugged. "Your call. We are waiting on one more person. It might take a few minutes. Coffee? Some water?"

Rosewall looked at all three of us. We were silent.

He proceeded to open a file folder and begin writing notes. He seemed calm. The men beside him stood at attention. They hadn't moved.

"You knew we were coming?" I asked, cautiously.

"Not really. Not yet. I got a call saying it was possible. Big guy here, he was a surprise. I thought he was busy running Rangeman. You, Stephanie. I knew it would be today, at some point that I would have to talk to you. I was told that you were impossible to hold back. Of course, I thought this would be over by now. But, things change. His voice trailed off as he wrote.

"Who are we waiting for?" I asked.

Rosewall did not look up. He continued his busy work. "Patience." He replied.

I thought to myself, I may only be part Italian, but that part Italian was pretty strong. I could not be sure if Rosewall was a good guy or a bad guy. I didn't particularly like the word "patience". I know its a virtue, but I don't think the Plum side of the family had a lot of moral fiber, I mean look at Vincent. I glanced at one of the body guards. He was watching me closely. Would he really shoot me if I walked over and tossed Michael's papers all over the floor? Both men tightened their grip on the guns. Rosewall looked up, and stared directly at Tank saying...

"They have their guns chambered. You want to make a move? They aren't blanks."

Tank leaned forward. He glared at Rosewall. "Don't even think about threatening me. You want a nightmare, you will get one if you fuck with this team. Don't screw with us. You have been out of touch for over two days. When we call, your secretary tells us you are in court. I came over to wait in your office, and guess what? Your not in court. You are sitting with your thumb up your ass. If you can't handle this case, we will find someone who can. Do not think for a second that I am going to sit around while my boss rots in jail because you cannot do your job."

Tank moved so quickly, I barely had enough time for it to register. He pulled out a knife and stabbed it into Rosewall's perfect cherry wood desk. He leaned over, his face less than an inch from Michael's. One bodyguard had been overtaken by Hal, the other was still trying to pull the gun out of his holster.

Michael's secretary ran in. "Is everything oka...?" She paused. Hal had one gun trained on her, the other was still in the face of the first body guard. I was trying hard to figure out how to breathe.

The phone was ringing in the outer office. No one was moving to pick it up. We were all at a standstill. I heard the elevator door shut somewhere off in the distance. The office was silent. No one wanted to make a wrong move.

Just then, Joe walked in the office. We all turned to look at him. He didn't even flinch when he saw the situation that was played out in front of him. "Tank, Hal. Good to see you again. Why doesn't everyone just calm down and have a seat. If anyone shoots anyone else, I am going to have more paperwork to fill out. It would be nice if I could avoid that right now. He stood and waited. Tank backed away and removed his knife from the table. Hal lowered both his weapons and slowly moved away from the body guard. The secretary ran out of the room to answer her ringing phone.

Michael adjusted his suit and tie. The bodyguards both shifted uneasily. They threw angry glances at Hal and Tank as they tried to remain stoic. They screwed up. Not being prepared for Tank's aggressive actions will cost them a bonus.

"I told you this was a bad idea." Joe said, as he tossed a manila folder across the table.

Michael opened it, glancing at the papers inside. "It wasn't my call, and you know that."

I looked over at Tank. It seemed I wasn't the only one in the dark.

Tank took a deep breath and sat down. "Anyone care to elaborate?"

Michael leaned back in his chair, closing the file. He looked at his gold Rolex and adjusted it on his wrist. "Forty eight hours ago, Mr. Manoso was released from police custody."

He let that sit for a moment before going on. "At his request, he put a veil over the release in hopes that Les Sebring would come out of hiding and do something stupid. Then, the police would have a chance to pick him up. It had to look like the cops had reason to keep him. He was sure that Les was watching and waiting to see what would happen once we had the tapes. It had to be believable. No one could know."

"That's why there has been nothing on the news." I said.

Michael nodded.

Joe continued. "He set up a meeting with the chief of police, Joe said. Asking that we keep it under wraps for at least seventy two hours. He said that if Sebring was in Jersey, he would find him. I knew that if he listened to the tapes, any of the tapes, he would probably be on the next plane to south America.

Ranger wanted to try it anyway. Problem was, I didn't tell my boss that Ranger was out for revenge. I kept that little gem to myself, and now I feel like an idiot. With Les and his family blown to smithereens, who do you think is going to be looked at for causing that?"

"Ranger." I said softly. I looked down. I had not even considered the possibility Ranger had killed them.

"Trisha found this on the boat." Joe took a plastic evidence bag out of his jacket, handing it to me. Inside was a piece of black hard cloth. It was burnt and the ends were seared. White embroidery threads made out the letters "ALS".

Joe's phone chirped. He took it out of his pocket and checked it. "I can guarantee my head will be on a platter unless I can find Ranger and get this thing figured out." Joe headed towards the door. "If you see him, one of you better let me know. He has some explaining to do."

I sat down and looked over at Michael. "What is in that file?"

"Carlos Manoso's release papers."

Tank set up a meeting for his team on the third floor. I was sick to my stomach. I didn't want to be part of any of it. I felt deflated and kind of lost. I needed to regroup. Most of the sick feeling had to be coming from my clothes. They smelled of chemicals, smoke, diesel fuel and charred remains. My hair was worse. I dragged myself to Ranger's apartment to clear my head.

The moment I closed the door, I knew. I wasn't alone. Fear gripped me. It wasn't just the way the air changed or that things in the apartment were slightly off key. It was the shower. It was on.

I wasn't sure what I should do. I looked back at the door. Should I run downstairs? Why was I afraid? Was it because Hal and Tank flew from calm to killer in 2.5 seconds or because I had burnt carcass smoke in my hair? The thought that Ranger could have caused that explosion gave me chills.

My keys were two steps to the right for my fingers to grasp them. The door, five paces to the handle. The stairs were another twenty from the front door. Twenty-five steps per staircase. Two for each floor, times seven floors. Fourteen sections of twenty five steps till I was at the bottom floor of the building. After that, I would need a calculator.

"Two hundred paces to your Jeep, babe." Ranger was behind me. I was so busy counting, I didn't see him. His fingers brushed the top of my skirt. "If you want to run, go. I won't stop you."

"Oh shit," I thought as seconds ticked by. I could feel him standing there. Heat radiated from his body. His touch stayed light on my skin.

Did I have faith? Or did I believe he murdered Les and his family? If he did, what then?

Time stood still. I couldn't move.

Ranger's fingers slid under the waistband of my skirt, giving me goose bumps. His lips brushed against my earlobe. "If your going to run, you better do it now." My breath caught in my throat.

I grew up in the church. My mother and grandmother dragged my sister and I to Holy Mother of Mercy not only on Sunday, but also to every church function within driving distance. It was tradition. On Sunday, my family lived and breathed Catholic. I figure they did this because they knew the rest of the week we would be breaking the rules. Sunday was redemption. I had to practice all the commandments until I knew them by heart. I tried hard to stay within the boundaries of ones that made the most sense to me. "Thou Shall Not Kill" was the big one. Over the years, I have been known to walk over most of those ten, including "Thou Shall Not Take The Lord's Name In Vain." I think I have done an okay job keeping the commandments sacred. I am not innocent of even the big one, but I do think that God would be okay with self defense. Lurking deep in my subconscious brewed the morals of a true believer. Right now, it was coming to the surface with a vengeance. Where did it come from? I couldn't shut up my inner Mother Teresa, no matter how I tried.

"Well?" Ranger whispered.

"Did you blow up Sebring's boat?" I winced. It didn't sound like I had any faith in him what so ever, but I had to know, so I asked.

He let go of my skirt and walked slowly into the bedroom. "Do you think I did?"

He was now far enough away. I could run. He probably wouldn't even follow me. Just take off, Stephanie! My feet were glued to the floor, I couldn't move. I still hadn't totally made up my mind.

Moments ticked by. I still stood there. Ranger walked back out of his room. He leaned on the door frame. He was not dressed. Only a towel was wrapped around his perfect hips. It hid all his perfect parts behind a towel not more than a fourth of an inch thick. I could focus on being afraid of what his answer would be to my question, or I could focus on the towel. The towel won.

"Stephanie?"

My eyes tore away from the towel and locked onto his.

He had been waiting for my answer.

"I'm not sure."

He gave a heavy lidded nod and walked towards me. He took my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly.

I found myself reaching to touch his skin. The towel dropped from his waist. It was then, I noticed that he had cuts and bruises all over his chest and arms. I moved my finger over a gash that looked painful.

I looked up at him. He was watching me.

"What happened to you?"

His voice was low. He focused on the buttons of my blouse, as his fingers unbuttoned each one until it lay open. "Later." He said, slipping his hand under the waistband of my skirt, sliding the zipper down until it gave way and fell to the floor. The only thing between us was a silk black camisole and black lace panties. My heart beat faster as he kissed the nape of my neck. Suddenly, Ranger pulled away from me.

"You smell like charred flesh."

There was a lot of sexy terms he could have whispered to me, but that was not one of them. I had sort of forgotten about Mother Teresa, the boat and the burnt stuff. He had a way of making morals seem pointless. Ranger grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bathroom. He pushed me in and shut the door. Leaving me to my own devices.

I emerged from the steamy shower with a better attitude. My hair smelled like lavender and almonds according to the label on the shampoo. It was a hundred times better than it had been, so I was sold. I stood in the doorway to the bedroom. I towel dried my hair into a damp mass of brown curls. Now I was the one standing in the towel and Ranger was dressed. All black, no surprise there. Cargo pants, t shirt, belt. Black. Game over.

He sat at his desk. The laptop open before him, the light from the screen shining on his face. His black hair was still slightly wet, and it hung just onto his forehead. A little longer than he usually wore it. I watched him work. I noticed that he didn't have on shoes or socks, as if he wasn't sure if he was staying or going.

He looked up from the computer. "Did you know Les had a boat?"

"Yeah." I said. "Your whole team knew."

Ranger glanced back at the screen. "What Ever The Sea Brings"

"There are two of them, at least there was two of them. The one that exploded is a different boat than the one we saw in a picture on Sebring's desk."

Ranger contemplated "Same name, different boat."

I studied him as he worked. The shower had given me some time to regroup, but I couldn't get the facts out of my head. The piece of black cloth with the partial "ALS" really bugged me. A lot was eating at me. Maybe the forty eight hours without telling anyone where he was, bothered me the most. Going after Les without his team bothered me. He didn't even have all the information we did. He had stupidly risked his life.

He watched me silently, closing the laptop. Ranger got up and walked over.

"You're never this quiet. Usually you are full of theory and explanations."

"I have a lot on my mind." I answered quietly.

He tilted his head to one side, his piercing black eyes dug into mine, like he could sort out my thoughts and put them all on paper in front of me. I stared at him, and he stared right back.

Ranger moved closer. "You think I rigged that boat to blow?" he said incredulously.

I had been knocking a few scenarios around in my brain. Was he capable? Yes. Should I tell him that? Probably not.

He watched me squirm.

"Maybe?" I finally blurted out.

Ranger moved in closer. He looked slightly perturbed. I backed up, but I hit the wall. I had no where to go.

"Why would I do that, Stephanie?"

"You wanted revenge for Jeanne." I stuttered. "You completely took your whole team out of the equation. Shut us all down. Told Joe to keep your release quiet. Giving you the perfect opportunity to find Les and kill him."

Ranger backed up a little, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Is this what everyone thinks? That I put a bomb on the boat, and then blew it up killing his wife and two kids?"

He edged closer to me leaning in. "Is that really what you think?"

I watched his eyes, his face, his body language. I thought back to when I first saw him in the apartment. He was relaxed. I had known Ranger for a long time.

I took a deep breath. "No. It's not what I think."

He searched my eyes. Deep down I already knew he didn't hurt those people. Just Les, maybe. But not his kids, not his wife.

He pulled back, and put his arms on either side of me."What makes you so sure?"

"I can tell." I said defiantly. "Your eyes. They give you away."

He glanced down at the towel. "You use to be more intimidated by me."

"I know you better now." I said. I was still angry that he had gone out on his own without letting his team know what was going on.

Ranger moved closer. His hips pressed against the terry cloth barrier. I held the towel tighter. He smiled. His hand slipped under my towel and tugged. It fell away. I had no self control. I was trying to hold onto being pissed that he left us out of the loop, but the canvas of his cargo pants was up against my bare skin, and I felt him stir. I felt my toes curl in anticipation.

He leaned in closer. "You were afraid of me when you walked in my apartment. What about now, do you still think I'm dangerous?" His finger caressed my nipple sending shivers down my spine. I had to catch my breath. My whole body started to buzz.

I nodded "yes"

Ranger smiled, "Oh yeah, I am a dangerous man." He picked me up and carried me into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us.