Sometimes Stephanie taps me on the shoulder and tells me what needs to happen next in this story. That's how this chapter came about. Ranger was on a roll, but who can stop Stephanie when she knows what's right? So, with thanks to Stephanie, and to the ever-thoughtful jbspencer06, we have another chapter.
I don't own the Stephanie Plum characters; nor do I make any profit, though this story and any original characters are mine. This story is purely for entertainment, so there may be errors.
Chapter 29: Looking for Answers
Stephanie pulled her purse over her shoulder, getting ready to head out for her afternoon meeting. Picking up her wire-bound notebook, she peeked at the most recent page of writing before snapping it closed again.
Yup, she had totally doodled through the entire lunch session as though she were still back in middle school. All that was missing on the page was pink ink and maybe some glitter and a sticker or two. Rolling her eyes, Stephanie decided that it was good that the mandatory refresher had been on something she already knew well. Yeah, Stephanie snorted, she was pretty well versed in proper police first responder protocol in case of explosion or fire.
After all, in New Jersey, she had been first-hand witness to enough fire-bombings, explosions, and arson that she'd memorized the emergency codes for each one before she'd even started working part-time as a dispatcher at the Trenton station. She'd known how many and which type of emergency vehicles would be called in each situation, the size of the perimeter to be set up around the incident, and the preferred approach to gathering witness statements.
Waving to her cube neighbor Janice as she left the precinct office, Stephanie smirked at that last bit of knowledge. Because, since her second year on the job, Stephanie had been leading the Civilian Perspective module during semi-annual BPD sensitivity training for emergency responders. Who knew that holding the New Jersey state record, two years in a row, of most frequent non-mobster name on the witness list for explosions would end up being an asset?
Initially it had been oddly liberating to be appreciated for her memories and feelings about her various car fires, apartment fire-bombings, and other disasters. Instead of being a big honking problem the size of the Fresh Kills landfill, her encounters with danger had been valuable. She'd been asked to speak about them, not shove them under the rug in arguments and long sleepless nights on opposite sides of the bed with Joe.
But then, something unexpected had happened after the first year. Listening to the other side—the roundtable of first responder experiences—she'd finally understood the emotional trauma they lived through. The fear that they'd find injured or dead children at the site, the guilt at not saving everyone, the constant stress of maybe not being fast or brave enough. The need to force a mask of calm over their own adrenaline and dread so the panicked people at the scene would follow their direction.
And finally, the worst experience: having to continue being professional and fast-brave-calm enough to save everyone else after finding someone you loved who'd been killed or gravely injured. It had been a man who'd told that story; a twenty-year veteran who still had nightmares after finding his sister at a boiler explosion in his third year on the force.
At which point, Stephanie's long-held anger at Joe and his gruff, distancing behavior after her various car, apartment, and abduction disasters melted away the way yesterday's snow had dwindled into small pockets of fading slush drizzling the curb.
Inhaling as she crossed to the parking lot entrance, Stephanie remembered the moment when she'd finally understood why Joe had wanted her out of the bounty hunting business. And she'd seen the underlying reason why their relationship could never have worked. After all, how could his love have flourished when it was regularly infused with the raw emotions of a first-or-second responder to a situation that could have killed her?
And how could she have claimed to be in love with Joe, yet not have understood what she was putting him through, again and again? At the time, she'd contrasted him with Ranger in that regard, and found Joe wanting. Ranger's calm, his unflappable ability to simply deal with everything, had fooled her into thinking Joe should be that way also.
When in fact, as she'd begun to see over the past week, Ranger's ability to power through whatever crazy, dangerous situation arose was because he'd already walled off his feelings long before he'd met Stephanie. After all, with his experience, Ranger was the ultimate first responder. If her car blew up, if she was held hostage, if she was temporarily missing after an explosion… Ranger could simply treat it as another mission to execute from behind his ongoing emotional lockdown.
And where Joe had a family and a happy home, and even Stephanie did, Ranger was still alone. Behind those walls, still deeply caring about people. She'd always seen that about Ranger, even when she'd first met him. Even now, years later, she'd been able to see how much he'd cared about the two boys who he'd rescued. How he cared about her daughters' safety. And how he cared about Stephanie. How he probably always had, behind his confusing and distancing actions.
Which led to another thought: Perhaps Ranger, like Joe, had been reacting to Stephanie's frequent danger in Trenton, but had been doing it by building ever sturdier emotional walls. Perhaps that's why she'd never felt that she'd broken through his reserve.
Stephanie stopped, realizing that she was standing at her car's door, and had been for a few moments. Well, Stephanie sighed, she certainly had a few things to think about, though now was not the right time. With a brief look heavenward, Stephanie wondered why her subconscious didn't process things like that in the background when she was distracted.
Instead, it encouraged her to write "Ranger" and "Rick" repeatedly on her notes page during the noon refresher session, in different sizes and fonts. With flourishes and question marks, and—Stephanie blushed—a few decorative renditions of two guns and a knife. All of which looked a bit more phallic than necessary.
The added sketch of what was supposed to have been a vacuum cleaner next to one of the weapon compositions didn't really help. Stephanie blushed even more deeply as she turned to start her car. The engine coughed a few times, while lights on the dash valiantly flicked. And then, with a rumble, it finally started.
As icy air gusted suddenly from the nearby air vent across Stephanie's warmed cheeks, she reached over to quiet the blaring radio and turn off the heat for now. Sitting back into her seat, hands resting on the steering wheel, Stephanie could almost imagine Ranger's stoic yet humor-filled "Babe" as though he were sitting next to her.
Which made Stephanie smile. No matter what had been troubled between Stephanie and Ranger in the past, she always could surprise him in ways that amused and brought a light to his eyes, and he always could warm her heart with just one word. That was the connection that was still there.
As she sat waiting for her car to warm up, Stephanie remembered the other day when she'd driven Ranger to work, and then to pick up his truck. His substantial, masculine frame had been poised in the compact front seat with leonine grace. His lips had raised in a barely-there smile as he watched her, his eyes warm. It was an abbreviated version of the smile he'd had this morning as he'd leaned in the doorway, arms crossed casually as he watched Stephanie and the girls mobilize for school and work.
So, she considered that it would no-doubt appeal to Ranger's male pride and slightly off-kilter humor to know that he'd inspired a grown woman to write his name in her notebook like a giddy schoolgirl. And that the same woman, Stephanie, had wanted to stay home this morning instead of going to work, perhaps to ride along with Ranger in his truck the way she'd done so many times in Trenton. That she'd needed to curb the impulse to call him several times already today, only breaking her resolve when she'd heard from her friend 'Fredo that his cousin Mateo had maybe seen Figueroa in his Franklin Park check cashing shop.
Even so, Stephanie realized ruefully as she pulled out of the parking lot that she'd better pull out that page and shred it before someone at work, or even Ranger, saw it. She'd already had to deal with Sarah's insightful conclusion that Ranger should move into the Plum household, since he'd been part of the family even before Sarah was even born. Which had led to Lisa's uncomfortable question this morning of where would Ranger sleep the next time Grandpa Plum came to visit and wanted to stay in the den.
Not to mention Mary Alice's shrewd glances over the past several days, and her increasingly pointed Sinatra songs. And with that, this morning's song from breakfast was in Stephanie's mind again. And she knew the lyrics to Mary Alice's hummed song: Night and day you are the one, only you beneath the moon or under the sun. Whether near to me or far, it's no matter, darling, where you are... I think of you night and day.
Oh yeah, Mary Alice was not bothering with subtlety any more. And Stephanie needed to get a grip on her own wayward thoughts soon. Or at least face what she was avoiding, and come up with a plan for the upcoming weekend. Because while good Stephanie whispered primly that nothing should be any different tonight and tomorrow, even though the girls were away and she and Ranger would be together in the house by themselves, not-so-good Stephanie had decidedly other thoughts.
In fact, not-so-good Stephanie had been visualizing some of those other thoughts all morning, in living detail, causing Stephanie's eyes to glaze over at completely inappropriate times. Which had clearly led to doodling for forty five minutes during a business meeting. Oh, who was she kidding? Both good and not-so-good Stephanie had been totally along for the ride in fantasyland all this morning. But that didn't help her: she still didn't know what to do this weekend.
Stephanie patted her fingers against the steering wheel as she waited at a red light. With normal traffic at this time of day, it would take about twenty minutes to get to the Dudley Square Municipal Center where her meeting was taking place. Squaring her shoulders, Stephanie reached for her earbuds that were coiled on the passenger seat along with her phone. Then with a few practiced taps, she dialed.
"Hey there, happy Friday!" Mary Lou's voice chirped over the phone. "Two calls in one week, to what do I owe this great pleasure? Did you finish your Christmas list already and realize there's one missing gift that only can be found at Quaker Bridge Mall? Because if it involves shopping, I'm willing and able to make the sacrifice on your behalf."
"Hi Mary Lou," Stephanie replied, feeling tension rolling off her shoulders at Mary Lou's characteristic enthusiasm. "Do you have a few minutes free for a best friend consultation?"
"You betcha. What's up? Is there news about any tall, dark and handsome men who were incommunicado on a cross-galactic mission until very recently?"
"No. Well yes," Stephanie sighed. "But mostly there's confusion." Stephanie nibbled her lip.
"Confusion? Like he's being confusing, with that 'not really talking except with his eyebrow' thing that you always said he did? Or like you're trying really hard to not pay attention to what you're really thinking, so that's why you're confused?"
Stephanie exhaled a quiet laugh. "Well, mostly it's me being befuddled. Because—and here's confusing thing number one—Ranger is actually talking. Or, at least sharing more than usual, like about his work, and a little about himself also."
"So that's a good thing, right?"
"Oh yeah," Stephanie affirmed.
"So, what did he talk about? Do tell!"
"Well, he told me about the case he's working on, where he rescued a couple of boys who'd been abducted by their dad. And there's more to that, but I think I can't divulge that because it's related to his case. And he talked a bit about his daughter. Remember Julie?"
"Uh huh," Mary Lou's voice acknowledged.
"Well Julie is Angie's age now," Stephanie continued. "And I think she's trying to get to know Ranger, because she went all the way up to New York near him for college. But she's enough like him, apparently, that she hasn't said that directly. And he's kinda awkward around kids. But no, that's not true; he's good with my girls. Just a bit unsure. Although that makes sense since he's been living as a bachelor for years. At least I think so… he hasn't mentioned any women's names, though of course I haven't spoken much about Brian. So then…."
"Whoa," Mary Lou interjected. "Slow that roll for a sec. What you're talking about is the stuff you're thinking, but not what he's said. And maybe he's saying a lot for Ranger, but speaking as someone married to a normal man, not a caped crusader, it doesn't sound like Ranger is saying much from what you've told me so far."
"Well, yeah, I get why you're saying that," Stephanie mulled. "But I guess I have to measure Ranger against himself, not other people. And he's definitely telling me more than he did when I knew him before. There are these pauses when he's talking, and then he says something personal that he wouldn't have said before."
"Okay," Mary Lou said again, this time with speculation in her tone. "You know him and I don't. So I'll take your word for it." Mary Lou paused. "So, has he told you why he disappeared for however many years? Or what he plans to do now that he's dropped into your life like Jason Bourne appearing as a cameo in an episode of Gilmore Girls?"
"Well no," Stephanie began, squirming slightly. "But Mary Lou, if Ranger did just blurt that out I'd worry that he was an imposter pretending to be Ranger. The fact that he talked about his daughter Julie was actually a big deal, coming from him."
Speaking over Mary Lou's non-committal murmur, Stephanie continued, "And the fact that he just hung out with me and the girls last night after having accomplished something really important on his current job… that was a choice." Stephanie asserted. "He decided to spend time with me, at home. And Mary Lou, it was really nice," Stephanie confided. "We didn't talk about anything heavy; we just spent the evening together. We hardly ever did that before."
"Okay, that's a good start," Mary Lou agreed. "I remember you saying before that Ranger speaks through his actions sometimes."
"It's true. And Mary Lou, get this: Ranger, the man who eats twigs, and wouldn't let his employees eat fat in any form, has brought home pastry more than once in just one week. He brought a whole box of fresh donuts one morning when he'd been out late, and that's something he totally doesn't eat," Stephanie asserted what suddenly felt like definitive proof of Ranger's newly found—though characteristically non-verbal—communication abilities.
"And last night," Stephanie continued, "he brought home a Cuban dessert that was totally yummy. And when he shared it with us, he told me that it was one of his favorites." Stephanie paused, her eyes widening. "I actually got to watch Ranger eat dessert," Stephanie confided breathlessly, not sure why she was blushing.
"Okay," Mary Lou replied slowly. "So I'll grant you that he's figured out the 'Burg habit of speaking through food instead of words. And, I totally give the man style points, because the Cuban man bringing Cuban dessert is oh-so tasteful. Pun intended," she ended with an arch smile in her voice.
"See, I told you," Stephanie answered. "Dessert is the universal language."
Mary Lou laughed, then said in a kindly tone, "Honey, words and talking are the universal language. Dessert is a social gesture, like giving flowers." Then she hastened to add, "Even if it's a very nice and maybe even sexy gesture."
"Mmmm yeah, I know," Stephanie murmured, her eyes beginning to glaze over, again, the way they'd been doing off-and-on throughout the day.
"Hey Stephie, no inattentive thoughts of the guy variety in traffic! Don't forget how Lizzie Switzer's write-up on her car accident driving home from that Chippendale's show was a top 'must read' in the 'Burg for over two weeks."
"Spoilsport," Stephanie snorted, considering that she had never yet had a car incident due to inattentive guy-related thoughts. Though it had admittedly been a while since there had been any guy about whom to have inattentive thoughts. So maybe Mary Lou was onto something, there.
Meanwhile, Mary Lou had resumed talking. "Yeah, I know. I'm a big meanie, that's why you called me," she laughed gently. "But here's what I want you to think about. We all know that Ranger is the international man of mystery, so for that reason alone it's a big deal that he's doing these little domestic things. But, without words you don't know what it means. He might just be thanking you for letting him stay at your house."
Stephanie frowned; Mary Lou had a point and Stephanie was smart enough to know it. And, after all, what did that vacuum cleaner in her daydreaming sketches earlier today really mean?
But, back to the point, there was another thing that her best friend didn't know. "Mary Lou, this is big. Last night was the most amount of time we've been able to spend together since Ranger showed up. It felt like, well... It felt like he and I were starting over. And, as part of it, Ranger actually told me his real name, which he never tells anyone, and asked me to use it."
"Oh honey," Mary Lou's voice gushed. "I remember how special it was for you whenever Ranger told you something about himself." Kindly, she added, "I can understand why you feel that he's communicating more with you, since it sounds like he is trying to say important things to you." Then, with a hint of mischievousness, Mary Lou added, "But I'm shocked to hear that his mother didn't see that ramrod straight baby and name him Ranger from day one."
Stephanie couldn't help but giggle at the image of a tiny boy with a raised eyebrow, dressed in a camouflage onesie with his arms crossed, refusing to drink from his bottle unless it was nonfat milk.
"Oh Mary Lou, that is too funny," Stephanie conceded. "And I do hear what you're trying to tell me. That I assume a lot of meaning behind what Ranger does. And what he occasionally says." Stephanie rolled her eyes ruefully at Mary Lou's amused, knowing hum at the other end of the phone. Then she took a quick moment to check that she was still driving the correct direction to Dudley Square, and hadn't accidentally taken one of her usual turn-offs.
Realizing she only had perhaps ten minutes left, Stephanie said, "But, Mary Lou, I actually called for a specific girlfriend consultation." And before Mary Lou could challenge her, Stephanie hastened to add, "And I'm not trying to change the conversation. It's still about Ranger. And kinda about communication. Well, maybe."
"Okay," Mary Lou chirped. "I'm here for you. What's up?"
"So…," Stephanie started, suddenly realizing she actually didn't know how to say this. Well, this was Mary Lou, who'd seen her through every life crisis, small and large, since grade school. Lifting her chin, Stephanie decided to approach her situation head-on. "So, this is my weekend without the girls. I've been thinking of what to do, since Ranger is here. I want to do something to let him know how special he is, how much it means to me that he's here with me."
Stephanie shrugged. "I know he'll probably be working, because he really has a case he needs to close." Stephanie's eyes narrowed as she remembered the frame-up that he still hadn't fully cleared.
"Okay sweetie, so what are you going to do?" Mary Lou asked.
"Well, that's the big question. I was thinking that he might be free tonight, and maybe tomorrow evening also, based on a couple of things he said this morning. So, I wonder if he'd like dinner at the restaurant at the top of the Prudential building, which has an awesome panoramic view of the city."
Stephanie inhaled, "Or we could take a stroll in the North End and then go to this really nice Italian restaurant that's really romantic. And I don't have to tell Ranger that the only reason I know about it is that Brian took me there when we were dating. Or, my friend Janice reminded me that her old country club has a fancy dinner on the first weekend of each month, with a string quartet, and she could get me two tickets through her connections." Stephanie paused, nibbling her lip.
"Okay Stephie, next time I'm in Boston you're definitely taking me on a date," Mary Lou said archly, making Stephanie smile. "But honey," she continued, "what you're describing sounds like something you'd see happening in a romantic movie or TV show. They don't sound like things that my bestie, Stephanie Plum, usually does. So why would you want to do those types of things with Ranger?"
"Well, they're special things to do. And I want to let him know that he's special to me."
"Well, ignoring the fact that maybe you could use some of those pesky words to just say that, here's what I want you to think about," Mary Lou instructed gently. "You've known Ranger for years, right? So I'm thinking that he already knows that he's special to you. And, I remember he sometimes wined-and-dined you, even if it was in his apartment or part of a job. So, are you trying to roll back time to the relationship you had in Trenton?"
"Um," Stephanie frowned, wondering suddenly if that was indeed what she was trying to do. Because, having Ranger as a friend with benefits was magic. But, no. It was ultimately frustrating. And not what she wanted at this point in her life. And not what she wanted to model for her daughters, either. Though the benefits part… oh yeah, that would be great to have again.
Swallowing, Stephanie answered, "No Mary Lou, you're right. I don't want to turn back time to Trenton. And honestly, I don't know how happy those times made him." She felt a blush warm her face. "Though, maybe I'm thinking of evening-filling things to do so I don't just jump his bones when he comes through the door. Because I've thought of doing that, too. And that does feel just like Trenton."
"Oh no, boys and sex. My little Stephie grew up and became a woman overnight!" Mary Lou's laughter almost tickled over the phone, and Stephanie couldn't help but join in.
"I guess what I'm thinking, Stephie, is that this is your big chance to find out whether he could fit into your life. Because you're not going to pick up your stakes and change your life for him, right?"
"Right," Stephanie acknowledged, realizing that she truly hadn't been imagining changing her life around for Ranger. Beyond the occasional memory, she hadn't been envisioning turning into Wonder Woman so she could hang out with Batman. Well, with Ranger, who apparently didn't want to be called Batman.
But what had she been imagining? Ranger showing up from time to time, and then disappearing to his mysterious and distant "real life" the way he had in Trenton? Ranger just magically living in the den going forward, the way Lisa assumed?
Sighing, Stephanie admitted, "Okay, I hadn't thought about it that way, but you're right. I'd like him to be in my life, but I guess I need to figure out what that actually means, huh?"
"Yeah, that would help," Mary Lou's voice smiled. "And you need to give him space to imagine himself being in your life," she advised. "So honey, keep showing him who you have become over these past years. You're an incredible woman; let him see what your life is like, and that you welcome him into that. Because that's what reality with that man would be. Not endless date nights. That's a fantasy, and it's not fair to you or Ranger, because nobody can live up to that."
"You know, Lula said something like that," Stephanie thought back to her discussion with her other best female friend. "She said that I needed to just be straight with him, show him I believe in him, and let him see that he's a part of my life. And that he has to figure out how he could be part of that life. That it's the only way to have Ranger for real."
"Yeah, well Stephie, you surround yourself with us smartie pants, so are you surprised?" Mary Lou giggled, then paused. "Here's a thought: what would you normally do when the girls are with the Kloughns? What does that weekend usually look like?"
"Well, on Friday, now that the girls are older, the Kloughns have usually already picked up everyone by the time I get home. So Friday is like 'spa night'. Mrs. Arshad downstairs has usually cooked dinner for me. So I change into my sweats and fuzzy slippers, eat dinner and maybe have a glass or two of wine, and I watch old movies. Then Saturday is errands and laundry day, or sometimes during the season there are hockey games or dance recitals, though not this weekend. Then Sunday, sometimes I go to church, or maybe take a walk around the pond, sometimes I meet people for brunch. Mostly I just hang out."
"That's good," Mary Lou affirmed. "Here's one way to go. Do your usual Friday night. It's low key, but it's relaxing and authentically you. It gives Ranger a glimpse into what it would be like to be part of your life on a more regular basis. And it shows him that he's special, because you're sharing one of your favorite things with him. Then, on Saturday, do some of those errands. Based on how all of that goes, you could do something more fancy on Saturday night."
"You know Mary Lou, we've already kinda started. We watched hockey last night after dinner, and it was totally low-key and normal. At least Plum-family normal."
"Nice, that's a good start. Did you do much talking?"
"A little. The girls were there, and then it was late, so mostly we had half-asleep mumbles. Which still was really nice." Stephanie knew she should mention that a lot of that mumbling conversation had happened in her bed, while she was wrapped contentedly in Ranger's arms. But Mary Lou had never understood how Stephanie could speak about Ranger with bone-deep longing, but then be content to spend nights in his arms doing little more than hug and talk like long married people.
And she'd never told Mary Lou how Ranger had spent nights seated in her vanity chair, just watching her sleep. Even Stephanie hadn't quite known how to describe that, though it was one of the most comforting things she'd ever experienced. Stephanie strongly suspected, though, that others wouldn't see Ranger's B&E adventures in her Trenton apartment as being a sensible source of comfort.
"Okay then," Mary Lou's familiar voice slipped inside of Stephanie's thoughts. "Let tonight build on last night. And honey, as the voice of someone who's been married for almost twenty years, I can tell you that some of the best times Lenny and I have sound like your spa nights. It's just us, being together, being ourselves. We watch movies, talk about what happened during the day, or sometimes we just cuddle half-asleep on the sofa."
Mary Lou sniffed, then continued, "And I won't lie: sometimes we argue and it's a close call to remember our agreement to never sleep in separate rooms when we're angry with each other. But honey, that's a big part of why we're still together. Because we're just ourselves with each other, we know each other's best and worst sides, we talk to each other, and at the end of the day we know how to be together every day."
"But Mary Lou," Stephanie said thoughtfully, "Ranger and I used to do a lot of things together. Back in Trenton."
"Yeah, but that was over seven years ago. You've changed a lot since then, and he probably has also. So it's like you said: you're sort of starting over. And besides: were they fun Stephanie things, like watching movies over pizza, or maybe bowling? Or instead, were they work things that you did together only because you were on the job?"
Ignoring the almost otherworldly image of Ranger in a buttoned camp shirt and two-toned shoes at the bowling alley, Stephanie answered, "Well, I guess mostly we spent time together on the job, but does it matter?"
While she waited for Mary Lou's answer, Stephanie tamped down a fleeting memory of the time she'd spent with Ranger in Hawaii. She'd never been able to categorize that trip. She'd gotten him to join her to chase a bounty, but it had turned into so much more. It had been like a fantasy vacation, a make-believe honeymoon… until Joe had arrived. Her real-life boyfriend. The bucket of cold water on a sparking blaze. The bucket she'd ultimately dumped on both men, herself.
"Yes Stephie," Mary Lou's voice slipped through Stephanie's memory, pulling her back. "It does matter. Because no matter how you try, nobody is ever quite themselves while at work. I mean, how long have I been part-time bookkeeper at Hamilton Olds? It has to be at least fifteen years, and it's still a place I dress up for, even if it's just to wear nice slacks instead of jeans, and where I'm always aware of who's the boss. It's just not the same."
"Hmm," Stephanie replied. That was something to think about. When Vinnie Plum had been her boss… well she respected him about as little as she had when they were kids and he'd regularly wiped his snot on his shirt. But when she'd worked at Rangeman… yeah she'd been aware that Ranger was the boss. And when she'd slipped a couple of times, either he or one of the Rangemen had reminded her.
"Anyhow sweetie," Mary Lou's voice was like a warm breeze over her thoughts, "I was serious before: you've built a nice life for yourself and this is your chance to decide if Ranger really could be part of it. It's an unexpected chance, so accept it." Then, with humor, she added, "And though Ranger might not be a natural talker, you are Stephanie Plum. You can ask questions and get anyone to talk about themselves."
"Yeah," Stephanie admitted reluctantly, "and you were right earlier: I have to talk, too. About myself and what I feel. And maybe about topics that I'm uncomfortable to discuss." Stephanie sighed, envisioning a one-way trip to the Third World in her near future.
"It's not a risk," Mary Lou insisted. "This is a man who stares hardened criminals in the eye for a living. How hard can a personal conversation really be? And, after all, by now that man has gotta know that you're curious about everything. If he shuts you down without reasons, you're no worse off than you were seven years ago, and maybe there's nothing there. If he doesn't tell you stuff but gives you reasons, think about the reasons and see if they make sense. Or maybe he'll actually share some important things with you, and you can build on that."
Stephanie exhaled, nodding at her friend's wisdom. Then Mary Lou gently advised, "Honey, this is important. Either it's real or it's not. I just don't want to see you in a relationship like your mom had with your dad. Even I could tell she was talking at him, not with him, most of the time. And you told me there were whole topics that never came up, and that she kept you and Val from bringing up. I want something better for you, sweetie."
"I know," Stephanie nodded to herself. "And this is what I needed to hear." Swallowing, she admitted, "I think I just want to be with Ranger, for real this time, but I'm afraid I'll blow it. I guess… I just don't know why he disappeared for all those years. Maybe it was something I did. Or didn't do." Exhaling in a puff, Stephanie pulled her lips wryly, "So I guess that's something I kinda, sorta, maybe really need to discuss with him, huh?"
"I think so honey," Mary Lou agreed, dry amusement evident in her tone.
"Yeah, it just figures," Stephanie snorted. Then Stephanie spotted a parking space and spoke up. "Well, I hate to whine and run, but I really gotta go. I'm about to park and go to my next meeting. Wish me luck this weekend."
"Go forth and be Stephanie, you will not fail!" Mary Lou exclaimed. Stephanie could almost see her best friend from childhood in front of her, eyes sparkling and arms gesturing victoriously, as though Mary Lou were once again playing Gabrielle to Stephanie's Xena in the Plum family backyard.
Stephanie chuckled as they ended the call with their usual farewells, her mood buoyed yet again by her friend's faith and optimism. Mary Lou had always been able to help Stephanie think clearly. And was gracious enough to avoid too many "told you so" comments after the times when Stephanie had completely ignored Mary Lou's sage advice.
But, of course, Mary Lou was right. If Stephanie was going to have anything different with Ranger than what they'd had before, she had to do things a bit differently. Stephanie had already started, in her attempts to actually tell Ranger that she wanted him in her life.
Not like how she'd been in Trenton, when she hadn't even known herself what she'd wanted. She'd wanted to stand on her own; she'd wanted to be the hero of her own adventure; she'd wanted to retreat to her parents' home on a regular basis to just belong; she'd wanted romance and the feeling of belonging with another; she'd wanted to avoid anything that might bring another Dickie into her life.
She'd wanted to be Wonder Woman. She'd wanted to wear sweats and rest on her bed for days in her thinking pose.
Stephanie rolled her eyes: It wasn't really a mystery why neither Ranger nor Joe had been able to figure her out either. After all, during most of the time she'd known Ranger in Trenton, Stephanie had basically lived with Joe, and had even been briefly engaged to him. And yet, the man she'd fantasized about had been Ranger.
As she got out of her car and started walking the couple of blocks toward Dudley Square, Stephanie sighed at the stupidity of her younger self. Even though the physical aspect of her relationship with Joe had been more than satisfying at the time, in her memory it was all a vague, pleasurable blur. And yet… she still remembered details of some nights with Ranger. She could almost feel specific times that they'd embraced in the urgency of lust; she still sometimes recalled his thorough, lingering kisses like phantom touches along her lips.
And at that moment, Stephanie had a flash of memory—a static charge rolling along her spine, from her mind to her pelvis—of one evening with Ranger in Hawaii. He'd come into their suite after a shower, his hair wet and his sweatpants hanging loose along his hips. She'd seen his reflection as she'd gazed out the sliding glass door facing their private lanai patio.
Ranger had stalked silently over to her, a characteristic half smile on his lips, and pulled her to him. Her back painted along his front, secure, just like like they'd slept together countless times for comfort. His lips had heated her neck with liquid fire, igniting her body as his hands had caressed and then held her as they'd made love against the window. Both of them watching the raucous colors of the sunset blossom along the skyline the way all the nerves her body had exploded along with him.
Flustered, Stephanie blushingly realized that she'd been standing at the curb through at least one walk light, and now had to wait again for traffic to switch before she crossed. And she remembered exactly why she always shut down memories of Hawaii. Because, to remember such passion in her lonely bed was simply frustrating. To treasure memories of a vanished lover was unfair to anyone else Stephanie might meet.
And to remember Hawaii was confusing. Painful. A reminder of everything she'd gotten wrong in that part of her life. After all, it was Stephanie who'd invited Joe to come with her at the last minute, left without him when he couldn't juggle his job responsibilities and budget quickly enough to join her, and then invited Ranger. And after Joe moved heaven and earth to join her, finding her more than half naked with Ranger, she'd gotten both Joe and Ranger briefly detained by the Hawaii cops when they'd fought over her.
As she'd agreed with Lula the other day, the way Stephanie had fled Hawaii—and the men who had been there for her—was far from her best moment. Far from it.
"Hey Plum," a voice crashed into her thoughts, and she recognized her ginger-haired boss standing across the street. And, yes, Mary Lou was right that no matter how comfortable she was with Ryan, the very fact that he was her boss did make her straighten up and re-engage with her surroundings in a sudden hurry.
Ignoring the pedestrian stop light, Ryan stepped into traffic and dodged nonchalantly between cars, crossing to where Stephanie was standing. "You headed over to the Dudley Muni Center?" Ryan asked in his slightly nasal, Boston accent. At Stephanie's nod, Ryan continued, "Perfect timing; I'm just coming back from the BPD District B-2 building down the street."
Ryan smiled, his pale eyes making his crooked smile look almost mischievous. "I meant to call you, but this is even better." Taking Stephanie's elbow to move them both away from the small knot of pedestrians at the corner, Ryan continued speaking. "After you and I spoke this morning, I followed up on our mutual friend Joe Morelli's reminder that our newly interesting and missing perp, Brendan Fennelly, may be related to Aidan Dwyer."
"What did you find out?"
"Well for one thing, it's apparently true, though there's not much contact between the Dwyers and the Fennellys. In any case, it's true enough that the detectives who originally arrested Fennelly spoke to Dwyer during their investigation. But of course, they got totally stonewalled. Dwyer is one of those guys who's been evading the system for so long that he's like a textbook on how to avoid self-incrimination through creative misdirection."
With a sardonic tilt to his lips, Ryan added, "Anyhow, I'm not going into how I tracked him down, or about all the second cousins, parochial schools, communions, and step-dancing classes I had to discuss. But, the short answer is that I arranged an off-the-books meeting between you and Dwyer. Specifically to discuss Brendan Fennelly."
"Wow, thanks," Stephanie answered, feeling the bone-deep thrill she always had when pieces of the puzzle seemed to be fitting into place, even if she didn't know the big picture yet. "When and where?"
"Tomorrow between 3 and 6 PM," Ryan answered as he pushed back hanks of his unruly hair that, seconds later, small gusts of wind returned to his forehead. "Dwyer will be at O'Malley's on one of the side streets off Dot Ave—that's Dorchester Avenue—north of Savin Hill. It's one of those old pubs with dark shades over the windows because guys in the 1960s gave a crap whether kids or the local priest saw them drinking on Sunday afternoon. Anyhow, I'll text you the address when I get back to the office. Say you're there to meet the manager of the band and wear something from Boston College with the BC Eagle logo."
"He cares what I wear? Is that so I fit in?"
Ryan shrugged, a wry smile on his face, "Dwyer is one of those hardcore guys that used to visit McLaughlin Gang hangouts in Charlestown, and I understand that he's big on symbolic secret handshakes like that crowd all used to be. What he actually said was, 'wear something classic from Boston College, it'll warm my old, retired tradesman's heart'. Translating from 'old Irish guy dialect' that's a reminder that Dwyer has always had a legit job and we've never been able to pin anything on him. And it tells me that the BC logo thing is important to him personally, as a symbol."
"But Ryan," Stephanie interjected. "Doesn't like a third of the city wear Boston College stuff during the hockey and football seasons? How secret is that?" Stephanie knew that even Mary Alice wore a BC ballcap in the autumn, before it got cold enough for winter wear.
"Yeah you're right," Ryan nodded, "but the reason why Dwyer would ask for that is that his grandson is a Triple Eagle, which means he graduated three times from Boston College: from BC High, BC Undergraduate, and then BC Law. It's a big deal in that community, and be sure to offer your congratulations. That's why it's important to wear something from BC with the bird on it. That's the secret handshake."
"Hmm… okay," Stephanie responded, adding this new information to her store of perplexing, Boston-specific details that she could use on the job.
"Just do it," Ryan said, "I'm sure that within minutes of my call, Dwyer found a press photo of you somewhere and will recognize you. But the BC thing tells him you respect him and you're connected to someone who knows him. Which, of course, he already knows since I initiated the meeting. But, respect of standing and symbols matters to those guys."
Ryan paused, his lopsided grin taking years off his face. "And, as my Grandma Ryan will happily tell you throughout your entire life and probably into the afterlife, it really is a big deal that Dwyer's grandson is a Triple Eagle. With that generation, the only thing better than having a Triple Eagle in the family is to also have at least one priest. The first gives you a speed dial to the State House so you can piss on the Boston Brahmins on Beacon Hill, while the second provides a direct line to God so you can piss on the devil himself. Whichever you happen to need most at the moment."
Stephanie burst out laughing. "Okay, ignoring all notion of pissing… I guess bringing up the BC stuff with Dwyer is like how I talk about Asopao recipes with older Puerto Rican folks or Cachupa stew with the Cape Verde ladies. It gives me an in because I took the time to know something about who they are."
"Exactly. And he'll appreciate that. And probably talk to you, because who doesn't?" Ryan shrugged. "Oh and by the way Plum, when talking with Dwyer, don't mention anything about the Winter Hill gang or any of the associated knuckleheads who've been in the news over the past few years. The back-channel rumor among the old folks is that Dwyer was affiliated with the other side in the Boston Irish gang war, back in the day. The side that didn't win. Though he was never officially connected to any of them."
"Not to worry," Stephanie nodded knowingly. "I grew up in Trenton New Jersey. I know all about what you say—and don't say—to mob guys. Just ask Joe."
Ryan chuckled darkly, "Yeah. Our friend Chief Detective Morelli's told me a few interesting tales of the bad old days. And I can read between the lines on a couple of his uncles." Ryan quickly glanced at his watch. "So Plum, I gotta scoot, but one more thing," he said, his pale eyes earnest. "Your houseguest came up in today's weekly East Coast Law Enforcement call. Or, at least, the fact that he rescued a couple of kids from a parental kidnapping."
"They talked about Ranger?" Stephanie asked hopefully.
"They didn't mention your friend by name, but I knew who they meant." Ryan tilted his head, spearing Stephanie with his gaze. "So I looked into Mañoso's booking records. Rescuing those kids lines up with some of what he claimed at his booking over the weekend. Which could earn the man some bonus points at his hearing, if not before." Ryan looked down at his gloveless hands. "We all have a soft spot for kids. And though the Feebs didn't mention it, it's pretty clear that he was the only one following up on that abduction case."
Looking at her boss, Stephanie was reminded of Ryan's background. He'd never shared it with Stephanie, but she'd heard the story of how he'd transferred to Community Relations after years as a uniformed officer on the streets. Apparently he and his partner had intervened in a domestic disturbance, only to watch helplessly as a boy was shot by his addict father. The boy had lived, but Ryan had discovered he couldn't do the work anymore.
As Stephanie started to reach out toward Ryan's arm, he shrugged, then tilted his chin toward the street. "You got a walk light, Plum." Ryan turned in-place and angled back in the direction he'd originally been headed. "I'll send you the address of that bar where Dwyer will be," he said, over his shoulder.
Then, he paused after a step and added, "And because I suspect this has something to do with your friend Mañoso, I'm ignoring the fact that you're intervening in a bounty case. Just make sure to keep everything within department parameters."
"Of course boss," Stephanie said, appending a soft, "and thank you."
"Yeah," Ryan resumed walking. "I'll let you know when you can thank me, later." He waved his hand in a loose farewell over his back, and Stephanie turned to the street. After crossing, she felt her phone vibrate with a message from one of her earmarked contacts. Frowning, thinking it was too soon for Ryan to have texted her, she fished in her pocket and pulled out her work cell.
She stopped in surprise; it was from Winkelsteen in the BPD data annex. "Plum," it said, "getting results from Q42." Stephanie searched her memory for which query that had been. Then realized it was the query that Winkelsteen had bet a set of movie tickets would never return results. The one that dug into the underlying holding companies for the English language school in Minnesota, and the various shadowy companies where several graduates had gone.
Stephanie tapped her phone to look at her schedule for the rest of the day. Then envisioning Winkelsteen's toothy smile, she texted back. "Yahtzee! Be there after 5."
"B here or B2," Winkelsteen texted back.
Stephanie snorted, having learned to translate Winkelsteen into English. "Be here or be square," she laughed to herself as she juggled her phone back into her pocket. Walking toward her meeting, Stephanie couldn't help but grin. Not only did Stephanie have a movie date in her future, thanks to Winkelsteen, she might have yet another answer for Ranger by tonight.
She wasn't worried anymore about the weekend.
To be continued...
