Chapter 29

No Profit. Not my characters.

Carol you help me MORE than you know. Thanks for being my Beta, sounding board, advisor, and teacher, and the list goes on, but most of all for being such a sweet friend.

Thanks to everyone who is reading and to those of you who are reviewing. I really appreciate the constant insight into your feelings and thoughts regarding this story.

Joe's POV

Be careful what you wish for! Upon being returned to my holding cell, after a short meeting with my lawyer, I'd found a manila envelope on the cell floor with my name imprinted on it. Opening it, I had a pretty good idea of what would be inside. Sure enough, there were two eight by tens of Stephanie with Ranger. Big Dog apparently hadn't gotten enough pleasure from just showing them to me once in miniscule size. He'd wanted me to have super-sized souvenirs too. What a nice, constantly cloying reminder of whom Steph had turned to the minute I was out of the picture.

The joke was on me all right.

Upon closer examination, I could see Ranger's face showed concern, while Steph's expression looked to be upset. Not everyone would have noticed that gazing casually at the photo, but I could see one of her fists clenched to the side. I'd learned and memorized every look and every expression she'd ever had, including her body language. My detective skills had nothing to do with it. My love for her had everything to do with it.

I knew that woman inside and out.

Putting my intuition about her to work, I tried to decipher any hidden messages or implications in the photos. Her expression wasn't one of happiness. It actually looked more like fear or passion—or pain? I couldn't be sure. It had been taken from too far a distance to be certain.

The second photo was even harder to draw conclusions from, because with only the side profile to scrutinize, I could see her arms around his neck. He was holding her close into his chest. She seemed to be leaning her head on his shoulder as if she trusted him more than anyone else on the planet.

Shit!

I kept looking at them repeatedly. One time I'd have myself convinced it wasn't what it seemed, and then on my next inspection I'd be sure it was exactly what it seemed.

Thanks Big Dog.

Who else would have made sure to give me enlargements? When this was over, he'd pay! I'd make sure he was put on dogcatcher patrol or something equally degrading for a good long time to come.

I had to force myself to stop thinking. Not thinking in a place where contemplating your life was all that was intended made it next to impossible.

Hoping Kate or Eddie would come to see me, I figured I could get them to find out what the hell was going on? Even if Steph were back with Ranger, it wouldn't change my resolve to protect her. I'd have to do that even if we never so much as saw one another again. Her being happy and safe was the only thing that mattered to me.

I wondered if she'd gotten the donuts and birthday cake? The first batch was supposed to have been delivered together. I hoped she at least enjoyed it. What if she'd decided to throw them into the garbage? I guess I'd never know for sure, so it really didn't matter. I felt a little foolish for having ordered all that stuff. I bet she and Manoso were having a great laugh at my expense. Sadly, she'd have to eat the cake all alone, because he wasn't into anything unhealthy—except relationships. Apparently he had no qualms about his wellbeing—or someone else's—when it had to do with matters of the heart.

Surprisingly, I felt sorry for Kate, because if Manoso and Stephanie were together, Kate would have her heart broken all over again too. Not that it had ever had a chance to mend in the last four years. The damn bastard! If he ended up breaking Steph's heart too, I'd find him when I got out. I'd make him pay until his batty brain was dizzy with my revenge.

This wasn't the way I wanted my thoughts to go. But I was in continuous, fluctuating confusion over what I knew in my heart had to be true, while at the same time holding the concrete evidence in my hands that totally contradicted the truth. I remembered what happened last time I'd let myself doubt Stephanie's feelings. I'd nearly cheated on her with Kate. Okay, that helped put things into perspective. It hadn't been true then; it might not be true now either. I needed to focus on something else. Damn it! What?

Michaels interrupted my thoughts as he came striding purposely toward my cell, waiting until I gave him my full attention. I shoved the envelope under the blanket quickly. I didn't even want to know what he had cooking. I'd just about had it with everyone in my professional life—including him.

"Spit it out. I can tell from your face it's not good news."

"How's it going, Joe?"

"Ask me some other day."

"That bad?"

"Yeah."

"Are you in pain?"

"It doesn't matter. What's on your mind?"

"Well, I have some good news and some bad news." Clearly, this was his latest batch of phony-baloney diplomacy.

"Give me the bad first."

He bit his lip, folding his arms across his broad chest. I figured he must have been feeling guilty for going along with Brooks orders at Pino's, which had resulted in me getting beaten and shot. He should feel bad he hadn't stood up and taken my side until after the fact. I'd given him many years of loyal, dedicated service. He owed me.

"Well Morelli, we decided it's too soon for you to enter that prison."

"Why the hell not? I'm healing fine."

"You have to be in optimum shape, and there is no way we will place you there until your mental state and physical condition are both unquestionable."

"What the shit does that mean? I'm fine mentally. I am more than ready to kick some ass!" My eyes let him know his ass was among the ones I was ready to kick.

He gave me a warning look. "We all agree you need a few more days. We're going to release some information however that you've been placed in solitary confinement at the prison because you got a little too belligerent with the guards when they were transferring you."

"Why? If I'm here, no one will believe it?"

"Well the good news is that you won't be here. We're transferring you, late tonight."

Kate's POV

The steamy water swooshed over my bare skin.

I'd had little else on my mind since I'd left Carlos sprawled and stunned on his couch. I couldn't stop remembering how his hot searing breath had felt as his lips claimed mine over and over again. I'd given in so easily the moment I'd felt his hard, warm body so temptingly close to mine. I'd felt starved for his love. After the years of deprivation, I'd struggled with his sudden embrace only briefly, and then I'd given in, because his love was what I'd wanted more than anything. As our passion ignited, I'd known that surrendering completely to our desires would've come at much too high a price.

The mere thought of his touch was too painful. I tried scrubbing it off my body as fervently as I tried to banish the image of him from my brain—failing miserably.

I'd dreaded facing Carlos. In my heart, he would always be Carlos. Feeling his lips pressed into mine, the hot fusion of his tongue entering my mouth and his hands grazing sensuously over my body had brought back a myriad of emotions. Feelings I hadn't even wanted to know I still had were soaring to the surface.

Damn!

Burying my feelings had been so easy when there were hundreds of miles between us! But since I'd been back in his presence, I'd become so miserably transparent! It seemed like my crazy sentimental outbursts were spewing sporadically to new heights—daily.

I'd tried to bring back the professionalism to our association. Maintaining a poker face around him was essential if I was to continue with the business at hand. How could I stare into his eyes and speak of operations and strategies when all I could think of were his penetrating ebony eyes, his hard, muscular and sinuous body, those lips of his turning up quizzically at the corners and his hands reaching out for me with passionate purpose.

Shit!

My mind had a will of its own. My thoughts drifted to a trip we'd taken together shortly before the end of our relationship. He'd whisked me off to the surprise destination—our own private island. We'd had a charming, hidden away bungalow accompanied by a beautiful stretch of pristine white beach—reserved just for us. It was the most romantic place I'd ever been. It had felt as though we were the only two people left on earth.

There'd been a sensuous four poster bed suspended as a swing on the beach with luxurious pillows where you could lay sheltered from the sun, while gloriously wrapped in one another's arms. At night, lit candles had magically appeared surrounding the outdoor bed. The tranquil sea had made it feel so infinitely freeing. While gentle whispery breezes caressed our skin, we'd made deep, passionate love at all hours of the day and night.

Our spacious and private indoor retreat had been breath-taking as well with its own Jacuzzi tub and all the modern conveniences of a five-star hotel. Food had been delivered to us as if by magic—our empty plates whisked away just as mysteriously. We'd never seen another soul the entire time we were there.

Fresh, exotic and delicious feasts had filled us and energized us to take long walks. Occasionally, we'd detoured to dip our bodies into the ocean whenever we'd felt the urge. We'd given ourselves so completely to one another that I'd never distinguished where he and I began or ended. We were as one.

We'd laughed and shared more there than anywhere. Though he'd refused to ever talk about his time in the army, under special ops, he'd loosened up about his childhood and his crazy family. I'd entertained him with many stories of my wild, Irish clan. We'd opened up to one another, and I could feel the trust between us growing stronger every day.

I'd been madly in love. How could I have had a one-sided connection when everything we'd done those five days had been totally shared? Being so secretly secluded had welded us together to an even greater intensity.

Our last night there I'd lied next to him, blissfully spent and feeling as though my heart was filled to the brim and running over with love. He'd been sound asleep and totally unaware of my words. I'd whispered them to him, because never saying them at all had felt so fucking wrong.

"Carlos, I'm in love with you. You've given me more than I ever dreamed of, and I want to give that to you. I want you forever. Please soften your heart and let me in."

Tears had fallen unchecked, as I'd told him how much I'd needed him. I'd wanted more than stolen moments and frenzied weekends. I'd held my hand over my stomach, envisioning us with babies. Knowing both of our lives would be changed by the healing love we'd given each other, I'd never wanted those days on that island to end. But they had, and we'd only had two more encounters after that. If I'd known what was coming, I wouldn't have ever let him go. I'd have done anything to be with him. Moving across the continent or changing my life to fit his had been a no brainer. I'd have quit everything, but him.

I shook the not so distant memories away, as I brought myself forcefully back to the present.

Joe's POV

It wasn't a bad place as far as safe houses went, and I'd seen my share of them. This one was one of the most modern to be sure. The FBI had a bigger budget for these things than the TPD.

It was a one-bedroom, industrial loft apartment—nice for a bachelor pad if you were into that. High ceilings and a huge, open floor plan. The kitchen area was granite outfitted with state of the art stainless steel accessories and appliances. The sofa was something out of a futuristic, Sci-fi movie. Not my thing, because I liked to be able to lie down to take a nap or watch a game. The king-sized bedroom was partitioned off from the living room by sliding, frosted, paneled doors and furnished in sleek black.

Tile and mirrors made up the bathroom, which had a huge, walk-in, glass encased shower and a full-sized Jacuzzi tub.

I wondered how many crime lords had been treated to the top of the line spa while they waited to enter a witness protection program or to testify for a trial if they'd cut a deal with the police.

The place lacked nothing. The fridge was fully stocked, as were all the cupboards. There was even a patio/terrace accessible through sliding glass doors complete with a barbeque and outdoor furniture.

Home sweet home.

No one knew for sure how long I'd be there. I rolled my eyes, which reminded me of Stephanie. All thoughts of her resulted in a sharp, penetrating pain aimed directly at my gut.

The place wasn't me anymore than that big, echoing excuse for a house I'd had to pretend to live in had been me. After having a sandwich, I realized the first full day there had totally dragged by. If I'd thought I was having trouble keeping my thoughts under control in the cracker box holding cell, it was even more fun here where I could do nothing but pace and talk to myself by the hour.

Shit!

It was eight forty-five in the evening. Looking at the clock, I blew out the disappointment I was fighting. I had to be ready to face reality—whatever it was.

I really wanted to get this shitty assignment over with! What the hell had Michaels meant by my mental health needing to be in tiptop condition? What the hell did any of them know! I was a freaking perfect specimen of mental health! Making a fist sub-consciously, I looked down and frowned before relaxing it.

Okay, maybe I did need a little self-evaluation time.

Instead of counting the minutes until nine o'clock, I tried to ignore them, hoping they'd pass quickly. I hadn't bothered to send any ESP messages to Stephanie since I'd seen those damn photographs.

That old saying—a picture is worth a thousand words—or in this case two thousand was too true. Unfortunately, I hadn't needed a thousand words to tell me what they'd meant. She'd gone to him. He'd picked her up into his arms and obviously carried her inside. That much I knew. It'd looked pretty physical from those photos—his hand on her cheek and her arms wrapped around his neck.

But there had to be an explanation! I needed an explanation more than anything! Nothing I'd seen with my eyes had seemed real. It simply didn't make sense, because she loved me!

Damn it!

Eight-fifty. Screw it! Just get the fuck past nine! Why were the shittin' minutes crawling by when I needed them to go fast?

If those pictures were what they seemed to be, I was done. No matter how much we might still love one another, and I believed we did, I wouldn't share her with anyone—not ever again.

Maybe I should've put my foot down about that damned diamond watch. What if her accepting it had re-started their relationship? Manoso wouldn't hesitate to take the opportunity if Steph had given him even the slightest ray of hope. I wouldn't have either if the situation were reversed.

It was strange. I should be jumping up and down and having a Royal Italian temper tantrum. Intense emotional pain threatened to overtake me, but, more than that, I felt the aching desperation to get some answers. The possibility I'd have no conclusions for months weighed heavily. How was I supposed to let it go in the meantime?

I could ask Kate or Eddie to find out, but I needed to hear it from her. I needed to look into her to-die-for, blue topaz eyes and hear it from her. The whole world could show me pictures and tell me she was with him, but it wouldn't feel true until I got it straight from her.

We needed Kate to get us a couple of those throw away phones again, so I could get some answers. Truthfully, a part of me was deathly afraid of the answers. What would happen if she said all my worries were well founded? How would I just walk away and never see her again?

Eight fifty-nine.

Cupcake, I miss you. I'm not sure what's going on? Are you okay? Did something change? Did I do something? Did someone tell you something that upset you about me? Why is our connection gone? I could feel you so easily those first two days? Damn it, Steph! Say something! Even if it's that you don't want to talk to me anymore! Why the hell wouldn't you want to? Has Eddie delivered a note to you yet? Are you too sad to talk? Do you wish I hadn't sent it? What in the hell is going on? I love you Stephanie, I always have and always will.

Steph's POV

Nine o'clock.

Joe, I'm not sure what the hell is wrong, but I'm worried sick about you. Are you in too much pain to send me thoughts? Why has it been so quiet after those first two nights? I'm lost without you. I hate this! Shit! Why would you stop talking to me when I need you so fucking much? You'd better have a damned good reason, Morelli! I miss you. Please, Joe—just tell me you love me. I love you. I always will.

I didn't know how I was going to get to sleep after the endless silence. At least tomorrow I would have a little distraction helping Eddie with his neighbor's domestic problem. I hoped I'd be back by nine. I couldn't handle missing another Morelli message. Maybe Mercury was in retrograde and the planets were not aligned enough to get ESP messages. Or maybe some kind of wiring was off. Or, God forbid, Joe was running a fever and too sick to even think of getting me a message. But wouldn't I know if he was sick? I'd know if he was dead. If he didn't have a friggin' good reason for not sending me a message every night, he would be dead to me. Okay, maybe not dead, but in a lot of freaking trouble!

Finding myself at loose ends after the nine o'clock nightly disappointments, I'd taken to going to bed way earlier. I didn't want the loud confusion of TV noise blaring away. Soft music only brought depression and insatiable desire for Joe. It was easier just to go to sleep and try to escape from all the sadness I felt most of the time.

Drifting off to sleep uneasily, and then waking every hour made it a fitful, exhausting night. Something kept telling me that Joe was in some kind of trouble. The empty feeling in my stomach wouldn't go away. And moreover, there was a zinging pain in my heart that felt so unsettled and unhappy.

Why?

Oh God! If only we could speak to one another. I thought of Kate smugly offering to get Joe a message. Maybe I should have taken her up on the offer. Maybe he needed to hear something from me. It couldn't be easy being in that jail cell, on display for all his longtime friends and co-workers to walk by gawking at him in that cage all hours of the day or night—giving him mean, degrading looks and, more than likely, ready to harass him at the slightest provocation.

Getting out of bed, I walked over to my jewelry box. I took out the note I'd found. He loved me. That note had told me everything I needed to know.

Closing my eyes, I could imagine him right there beside me. I could feel the air electric with his presence. His arms would slide through mine and pull my back gently against his chest. His lips would instantly head for the hollow of my neck, nipping and cajoling me into a soft, whimpering puddle of mush.

His hands would wrestle the note away, placing it back inside the box. He'd extend a hand to me and guide me back to the bed where we we'd be enraptured for blissful minutes and then wrapped in each other's arms as sleep claimed our exhausted, depleted bodies. And when morning arrived, we'd find more ways to express our deep, word defying feelings.

But my bed was empty. There were no loving arms present to take the anxiety away. I had to be content with the loving thoughtfulness of his playful, intimate note to me. How long would this piece of paper take the place of Joe's warmth—his charisma—his humor—his endlessly seducing sexiness?

God!

Cold showers were going to be my new obsession. How in the hell was I supposed to get through months of missing the best part of myself? We were one in my heart. I don't know when or how it'd happened—but it had. We didn't have to wear rings to feel it. We didn't have to sign a stupid piece of paper to know it. Not that I didn't want that. I wanted every possible means of making Morelli and me permanently and legally connected.

Forcing myself to go to bed, I closed my eyes to drift off to a deep, sad and dreamless sleep.

Ranger's POV

Kate had called earlier. I'd been surprised when she asked to come and talk with me. Thinking it was going to be about us, I'd hesitated to say yes. She'd speedily assured me it wasn't a personal visit. What the hell had that meant? Why hadn't I been relieved it wasn't personal? Why had I found it fucking irritating it wasn't about us?

Why the hell did I even care?

She arrived, looking too sexy for words. Wearing black jeans and a simple black t-shirt, her cropped, green jacket accentuated her svelte, model worthy body.

I offered her a glass of red wine, which she accepted.

"What's on your mind, Meghan?"

She gave me a penetrating look. "Stephanie and Joe. I want them to have some quality time together before he goes forward with this operation."

"You know that isn't the wisest thing to do. They've already said their good-byes, and we have no idea if it'd even be more than a day or two."

Even as I was denying the merit of the plan, I was re-living Stephanie's pleading eyes having asked me to make it happen followed by her disillusionment when I'd said no.

"When has being wise ever been our strong suit?" Meghan asked me, clearly determined to make this idea a reality.

"What is the plan? I assume by that spark in your eyes you already have one?"

"I do. Eddie Gazarra is on board, and he's already set things in motion."

"Gazarra? I thought you didn't trust him?"

"You do," she responded simply. "I believe you'd know if he wasn't who he seemed to be."

"Okay—go on." Why did it make me happy to hear she trusted my feelings and opinions?

"I want them to be knocked off their socks when they come together. I don't want either of them to know a thing! It's really important that this be one of the biggest, most surprising moments of their lives. God only knows if they are going to have more." She looked away from me as though it was painful to her to imagine they wouldn't.

My lips curled up, in spite of myself. This was more like the woman I'd known years ago. She'd been an unabashed, hopeless romantic back then, one I'd been madly attracted to despite having no fantasy of ever ending up with her permanently.

We were never meant to be permanent.

She'd hidden that softer side from me so well at first. It'd taken a few months before I'd caught her with a box of tissues crying over the sad parting of some star-crossed couple on the TV screen. I'd felt guilty then, knowing I'd probably end up being a big disappointment to her, but at the same time I hadn't been able to tear myself away from her side.

I'd wanted to be with her pure and simple—for however long it lasted. I hadn't been able to bring myself to make the sacrifice to step away unselfishly.

"So why now? You said you'd never apologize to them," I asked her, extremely curious.

"They'd never believe the words, but this action would prove my regret for having ever tried to come between them. Come on, Ranger—you know this is the right thing to do. You and I both have guilt where they're concerned. We need to do whatever we can to fix the mess we've made of things between them."

I contemplated her words while taking in her beautifully sincere eyes. How could I ever say no to her?

"Okay, I'm on board. Fill me in."

We spent another twenty minutes talking, and when it was time for her to leave, I didn't want her to go. I wanted to resume the kiss we'd shared merely days ago.

Wait—I did? Since when?

I must need some R and R, because I was catching thoughts left and right that had NO place in my head. Yet my head was deciding one thing while my mouth had other ideas.

"Don't you want to talk about what happened the other day?" I asked her tentatively. Whoa—was this me wanting to talk about something personal?

Was I losing my mind?

"There's nothing to say." She wasn't budging.

"You were pretty upset."

"Yes, well you were right. This is business plain and simple. Whatever was between us is over."

What the hell was with her? That's what I said all along! Now she's telling me it's business? What had been the big tirade about last time then? She'd bared her soul to me, telling me she was in love with me! How could that have changed so fast back?

And why in the hell was I thinking about this so damned much?

Furthermore, why was I questioning my entire attraction to Stephanie as possibly having been on the rebound from Meg all along? If that wasn't the case and my feelings for Stephanie were genuine, then was I transferring my feelings for Stephanie back to Meg?

I'd never felt so unsure about anything in my life. This wasn't me. I was strong, focused and driven. This shit had to stop. I was determined to get those two women the hell out of my mind for good—especially the one standing there in front of me, who was without a doubt the most aggravating woman in the universe!

"Okay, fine. Uh— I could walk you out." Why in the hell was I offering to spend more time with her?

"I'm fine, Ranger."

"You don't have to call me that."

"It's what you go by. It's your street name—your business. Why not call you that?"

"But you always used Carlos. That's what I'm used to with you." What the hell did it matter what she called me?

"That was in the past. I'm following the rules you set. We never happened. Your business name is Ranger. We're all about business—remember?"

"What are you trying to do?" I asked suspiciously. Why the hell did she always throw me off center?

"I'm trying very hard to give you what you really want. Good-bye, Carlos." She planted a kiss tenderly on my cheek.

Hearing her call me by the name she'd always used only to use it as her last good-bye lit a fire inside me. Where the hell it had come from I didn't know.

As her lips were about to leave my cheek, I turned my head, seeking to cover them with mine. My arms wrapped around her involuntarily, and I felt her body weakening as I intensified our kiss.

Suddenly I felt the jolting, cold emptiness again, as she ducked out of my arms.

"I can't! Don't touch me—not ever again. You'll never be able to give me what I need. You're too emotionally crippled! I'm not ready to deal with any kind of relationship. And if I ever am, I don't want something that isn't going to last! I don't want anything from you, but to see this job and this plan for Stephanie and Joe through. Once that's done, we are too—forever," she vowed vehemently.

"I—don't—forever's a long time," I said stupidly.

"I have to go."

I closed my eyes, knowing she would be long gone when I reopened them.

Hours later I was unable to achieve my goal of getting some sleep.

I'd made the fatal mistake of kissing Meghan—again. My mind was distracted, and my stomach felt as though it'd been put through a meat chopper.

What the hell was happening to me? Her words, accusations, insights, and obviously deep, festering pain haunted me constantly. I'd told Hal to arrange a Cobre meeting instead of a covert meeting. He'd asked me when had I decided take on a copper mine?

Normally he knew just enough Spanish to be dangerous. How the hell he'd picked up on that word was beyond me. I'd barked at him, pretending to be incensed, claiming he'd heard me wrong. I'd told him I'd said covert and challenged him with my most intimidating look to dare to contradict me. He'd glared at me as if I'd lost a marble or two, more than usual, then had given up by simply shrugging his shoulders.

I missed Tank. He knew how to keep me in line and focused on the target in front of me. I'd visited them, and they were doing remarkably well. It's not like they hadn't navigated a jail cell before, but they'd been in good spirits. Their over-sized presence had acted as a deterrent to anyone itching to give them a bad time. I was relieved; because that meant Morelli would be included in their protective bubble once they made it known they were in charge of his daily torment.

I really needed them back. We were family, and it didn't feel right with them missing. Maybe that was part of what was making me lose my perspective. I was off kilter somehow. I never made mistakes when speaking of business! If it wasn't the loss of my men that had me feeling off, it had to be something totally incomprehensible.

I was going to stop this ridiculous lovesick behavior and concentrate on my work. Meg had been right. What we had was in the past, and that's where it would stay.

Steph's POV

I stumbled out of bed. It was eight-fifty in the morning. I'd slept in, because what else did an entirely housebound person with a spotless apartment do? The sound of my front door being rapped upon several times had gotten me up. I had a knee jerk, nervous reaction. What if my stalker liked to make breakfast time house calls?

Breathing out a long sigh of relief, I peeked through the door and found a familiar bakery deliveryman waiting for me to answer. He' worked for the Tasty Pastry for years. The top of his balding head showed in the peephole, along with the fact he was holding two nice-sized bakery boxes.

I opened the door, having no idea what he could possibly be bringing me and feeling pretty certain he had the wrong address.

"Hello, Stephanie," he greeted jovially. His diminutive height, combined with his rotund body always reminded me of someone from my childhood. He had a bird beak nose and wore a toothy grin. Black button eyes shined whimsically. He was adorned from head to toe in bakery white. It was like getting an up close and personal visit from "Frosty the Snowman."

"Hi Fr—Henry." I looked from him to the boxes. Then back to him again.

"These are for you, Ms. Plum."

"Uh—I don't think so. I haven't ordered anything."

"Oh yes, they are. I don't make mistakes." He juggled the boxes from both hands into one, while carefully pulling out the receipt. "Yes. See— right here. Stephanie Plum."

I read the bakery order. It was for me. I couldn't imagine who would have sent me baked goods? Was it that crazy stalker of mine? At least having been delivered by the bakery, they probably weren't poisoned.

"Poor kid! You must be having quite a birthday party with all this stuff. Parents sure pick some weird names for their children now days!" He shook his round head doubtfully. "I can't imagine what they'd do to this name at school! I bet this kid gets teased a bunch!"

I looked at him, scrunching my face in confusion.

"Who paid for them? I don't see any name."

"I couldn't tell you, Miss. We didn't get a name. It was all arranged for anonymously."

Fishing quickly through the money jar I kept on my entertainment center, I pulled out a couple of one-dollar bills.

"Here thanks!"

He gave a little giggle and stuck them into his apron pocket before nearly hopping down the hall to the elevator. I half expected him to start melting.

I couldn't wait to see what was in those boxes!

Opening the one that looked to be a donut box first, I knew instantly as I counted them who'd sent them to me.

Joe.

How had he done this? It was a perfect baker's dozen. He'd always gotten the one extra donut to make certain I was totally satisfied. He was very good at that—in every way. More than satisfying, he was the sweetest, most thoughtful guy in the universe. Okay, so he never picked up his socks or most of his clothing for that matter. He also had that annoying habit of grinding his teeth in his sleep after a particularly hard day at work. Other than that, he was perfect.

I opened the box that looked like it held cake. Sure enough there was the most beautiful confection inside. Frosted in white, it had pink roses and green leaves on it. A little red heart off to the side of one of the flowers had a picture of a tiny cupcake inside it. And if that weren't enough of a hint, the lucky recipient of the cake was found in the salutation.

"Happy Birthday Illerom."

A big smile accompanied those over-producing tear ducts of mine.

"Happy Birthday Morelli!" Ah—he'd found a perfect way to let me know who'd sent them in case there was any doubt.

God I loved him!

And there was no doubt he loved me. He'd gone to so much trouble to come up with that masterfully thought out plan that would provide me with all the things I loved most in the world. He was what I loved most in the world! Having done all this to make sure he could stay in touch with me made me even more certain he was the ONLY man I'd ever want or need.

Deciding to save the cake for when he came home, I carefully wrapped it first in saran then in foil, placing it lovingly in my freezer. We'd be celebrating big time when that day finally came. I wouldn't eat one bite without him there to enjoy it with me. The donuts, however, were another matter all together. I took a big bite of a Boston Cream.

"Mmmmm, Morelli, you are going to be on the receiving end of my gratitude for a very long time to come once you get back here."

Ranger's POV

We were about to convene a meeting to discuss the press leak. Meghan hadn't arrived yet. Bracing myself for the moment of impact, I knew my heart was anxiously awaiting her arrival, while my head was fighting off the implications of that fact.

Of course she chose that exact moment to arrive wearing a green dress that clung in all the right places. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate on this damned meeting when she dressed like that? Every place on her body was right! How in the hell had I gone cold turkey without her? I'd missed her of course, but my usual Litany of 'for the greater good' had brainwashed me into believing cutting the relationship off had been the best thing to do.

Now I wasn't sure at all.

When thoughts of possibly loving her had kept popping into my head, I'd known it was high time to get the hell away from her. And I'd done just that, pretending I no longer needed or wanted her. I'd gone about my business like a robot without feeling or emotion. Now both were coming back to bite me on the ass!

Now I realized how addicted I'd been to her. I'd stopped it like pulling the plug on bathwater. Before I'd known it, all my feelings had slid down the drain as well. Apparently instead of evaporating completely, however, they'd festered in some kind of holding tank, waiting for me to acknowledge they'd never been entirely disposed of at all.

I heard Michaels clear his throat and realized I'd been lost in thought, my eyes fixated on Meg.

The damned meeting!

Shit!

I forced myself back to the job at hand.

"Meghan, what do you have for us on the press leak?"

"First I have to tell you Morelli may be healing fast, but we can't put him into the prison for a good while yet."

"Why the hell not?" I asked, wanting this to be over with as much as Morelli did, so Meg could go home and I could get back to my true calling, which had NOTHING to do with a wife or children.

Where had that come from?

"Because about two hours ago, our FBI man, who was posing as a guard at the prison, was stabbed. He's in intensive care. We need to place someone else in there, before Joe goes into the general population."

"Why? You have my three men?" I pointed out, ready to growl. At this rate I'd be lucky to be fully staffed again before 2020.

"Because it's our operation, and the men upstairs have dictated that course of action," she explained, avoiding direct eye contact with me.

"Morelli is going to go nuts waiting any longer. I don't want to be the one to break the news to Joe," Michaels jumped into the conversation. "I already had to give him some news he wasn't happy about."

"You're the logical one," I informed him.

"Fine," Michaels groused. "Where's Commissioner Brooks when you need him? He loves being the bearer of bad news."

"He called and said he had a political commitment," I explained briefly.

"Sure—good excuse. He's getting on my last nerve!" Michaels confessed to no one in particular.

"The leaks?" I asked, forcing myself to look directly into Meg's eyes.

"Male voice disguised with a synthesizer is the best guess. The tip came into a CNN station in New York. They received the call a day before Morelli's arrest went down. They record all their tips. I heard it. It's so indefinable it could even have been a woman's voice. I passed it to our techs to see what can be done to unscramble it. They still have it."

"After they're through, I'll give it to an expert at Rangeman," I informed her impassively.

"I don't think you'll get much better than FBI techs!" she retorted.

"We'll see." I saw her barely held response being stifled.

NO tension between us at all.

"Someone knew before the court order came down. That eliminates the courthouse leak. It had to be someone at the precinct overhearing us or bugging the offices," she changed the topic effectively.

"So what's our next step? Are you keeping the press under control?"

Meghan smiled. "Thank God for Hollywood gossips! They're pretty busy right now. They flew by the droves to California. I think they found that a certain Academy Award winning actor might've been having an affair with his housekeeper. Interestingly enough, the housekeeper might've also been having an affair with his wife at the same time."

"That should keep them out of our hair for a bit." Griffin smiled—the first one I'd seen on him since meeting him months ago.

"Yeah, let's hope so," Michaels concurred.

"There is the matter of the stalker that was after Stephanie Plum the other night," I said, folding my hands in front of me.

"We scoured the area looking for clues and have the body shops on alert for anything matching the description of the sports car being brought in for repair work. Nothing has materialized so far," Meg interjected. "Also the trace on her cell phone came up empty. He used the now famous—"

"Undetectable cell phone," I finished. "Has anyone told Morelli about her stalker yet?" I asked curiously.

"No. Until we have more, we thought it best not to worry him, needlessly," Griffin informed everyone.

"How in the hell do you keep that woman out of trouble? Morelli's been trying to do it for years, with little success?" Michaels groaned.

I answered his question. "She's sitting tight now. I'm hoping the stalker will give up when he sees she isn't budging. Her apartment is secured with one of Rangeman's best systems. She should be safe as long as the FBI keeps their eyes where they should be."

I gave Griffin a look. Griffin gave Kate a funny, clandestine expression that was undecipherable but had me curious.

"That's not a problem. Two men are assigned to her now. If one takes a break the other will be there no matter what, or I promise you someone will get terminated."

"Okay then—that's everything for now. Meeting adjourned."

Meghan got up, and I couldn't stop myself. As the other attendees departed, I made my way to her side.

"Excuse me," she said, about to take her leave as well. She tried to dodge me walking first to one side then the other. She kept it up until she realized I wasn't budging.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, her feathers obviously ruffled.

"No reason—you just seemed like—"

"What I am is NONE of your concern, Ranger."

"Meg, I thought you wanted my recognition of you during work. You have it."

"Why now?" She looked up at me, her eyes clearly frustrated.

"We're colleagues," I mumbled a half-assed reason.

She laughed. "Like that mattered the last two times we worked together."

"Can you give me a break?"

"No."

"Are you ever going to forgive me?" I asked, aggravated.

"Have you even figured out what you did wrong?" she asked skeptically.

"Well I suppose if I am asking for you to forgive me I must have!" I snapped.

"You've never asked me to forgive, you. In fact you've never even said you're sorry!" Her eyes were shooting darts at me. So much so, I should have been full of holes.

"I told you what happened between us is OVER. We're done. It's business and nothing else!"

She turned around, and, without another word, walked out on me again. What the hell was wrong with that woman! Couldn't she ever stay and finish a fucking conversation?

Damn her! I should have joined a monastery—years ago! Women! Who needed them!

Steph's POV

Eddie called, as I was about to shower, to tell me he was held up. He said he'd rushed to the emergency room to be with Shirley. One of their kids had taken a spill during a basketball game, and they were waiting on the results of his x-rays.

He asked me to meet him at the address, which I wrote down as he rattled it off. Although he'd advised me to take a cab or call my father, I didn't want to do either. Getting into a cab in front of my apartment could bring the stalker chasing after an innocent driver or, God forbid, my own father!

How could I refuse him? How could I get out of my apartment undetected by the stalker? Damn, I wished he could've picked me up, but his son had to come first. He said he'd be about a half hour late.

I wanted to keep my promise to Ranger, while honoring my word to Eddie, and being a reliable best friend. But safety was not going to be compromised this time.

Think Stephanie!

I looked out the window of my living room. One FBI sedan was down there, but no European sports car. I saw Mrs. Gonzalas walking toward a car full of elderly friends, and an idea began to take shape.

Making a call to Ranger, I explained my promise to help Eddie. I told him of my escape plan—even going so far as to tell him the mode of transportation I intended to use. He wasn't able to successfully contain his laughter, which I found annoying. Then he told me exactly what he thought of my intentions. Yet strangely, he seemed okay with the whole thing.

He promised to take care of the FBI and to instruct them to wait for my return. It was almost too easy? Ranger had never been so casual about anything to do with my security before. He even said I was being quite inventive, and it sounded like a great idea. Go figure!

I heard the elevator coming up to my floor and made a beeline to catch it before it took off again.

Thank goodness! Mrs. Bestler was on duty.

"Hi, Mrs. Bestler."

"Well, hello dear. What floor would you like today?"

"Three."

"Oh Women's Wear—good choice. They're having a special on blouses today." Her gray eyes lit up as if she was offering me a free trip to Italy.

I got on the elevator, and she pressed three.

"We have Men's wear, Ladies undergarments and luggage on two!" she informed me happily.

"Mrs. Bestler, I really need your help." My eyes entreated her, as I gave her my most affectionate smile.

"Of course, dear. We have makeup and—"

"No, Mrs. Bestler—I need you. You have exactly what I need in your apartment!" I grinned, hoping to bring her back to the real world.

"I do? Well, if you say I do, then I must."

"You do! Remember when I helped you clean your closet. You had me put some of the things you don't use much on that really high shelf?"

"Oh YES! You're that nice girl that climbed up the stepladder! Stephanie—right?"

"Right—I really need to borrow a few things. I'll get them back to you."

"Oh, you don't have money to buy things on Three? Of course you can borrow some stuff. I have a lovely dress that would make your skin just glow!"

"Great! That's exactly what I need. And I know you have some lovely wigs and some shoes and maybe some of those hose with the seams you love wearing." My eyes showered her with my appreciation.

"My goodness! You must have a hot date with a sexy man! Which one is it—the one with the dark curly hair and those gorgeous brown eyes, or the other one that looks like an army gorilla?"

"No hot date. I need to get out of this building without being followed. There's another bad guy after me," I confided. My life or I no longer shocked my fellow tenants. They'd had lots of experience witnessing it all over the years.

"Oh No! How annoying that they gravitate toward you like flies to a dead carcass. Well let's get you a disguise then. This is almost more fun than being on my shift in the elevator!" she exclaimed, pulling me into her apartment. "I hope they don't dock my pay. I hardly ever take a break."

I nodded. That was true.

"Oh dear. You wanted a wig. I'm afraid our shipment this week only came in one color. It doesn't match your hair at all." She wrung her hands in disappointment.

"No worries. Gray is perfect!" I bit my lip, trying not to laugh.

She had so many wigs to pick from. It didn't take long for me to settle on one with a built in granny bun.

Pulling out two dresses from the closet, she said, "This is our newest style sent directly from Milan. I think it would do wonders for that cute figure of yours. You know if I sell you a great deal of merchandise, I might even get promoted to the first floor. It would be so lovely to get out of that elevator once in awhile." She'd gone back into her world of department store mania.

I gave her a big hug. "You deserve that promotion more than anyone I know," I told her sincerely.

I chose a voluminous red, polka dotted dress that fell way below my knees. She gave me a pair of flesh-colored, old-fashioned, seamed hose and a garter belt to wear with them. Even a pair of her shoes fit me—not that I wanted to wear them. They practically screamed, 'Grandma'.

"Dear, how are you going to make your getaway? Wouldn't that nasty man after you spot your big blue car? No offense but that thing is like a growling bear. You couldn't miss it in a circus." She was obviously coming back to reality for a moment.

"No, I can't take that car. I have another solution, but I'll need a short ride."

"Well I have a marvelous idea!" Mrs. Bestler's eyes were gleaming with excitement. "You leave everything to me. We'll take good care of you. You'll be completely satisfied, or we'll guarantee your money back."

"I didn't pay—"

"You just go get changed dear, and meet me at the elevator in an hour," she instructed me. "My break is over, and if I don't get back soon, the boss may write me up!"

She kindly shoved me out the apartment door. We got on the elevator, arms burgeoning with the borrowed items. She reverted back to info lady, as we went down one floor, asking me if I needed any camping gear.

Surveying myself in the mirror, I wasn't as shocked as I thought I'd be. Getting a little glimpse of my future—minus most of the wrinkles—was pretty funny. The red, polka dotted, long-sleeved dress was big enough to conceal what I wore underneath it. I took a second look at the hosiery with the thick seams. Not as ugly as I thought they'd be. I wondered if Morelli would be turned on if he saw me this way. Of course he would—he'd be turned on if all I had on were a sack over my head and fish flappers on my feet! That was one of the things I loved about him most. He loved every inch of me—unconditionally.

I needed a moment to breathe out the excitement I was feeling for no apparent reason. I guess being all cooped up for days was getting to me more than I'd realized. I hoped Eddie and I could accomplish what needed to happen with the deadbeat dad and husband, smiling as I thought of what a wonderful husband and father my Joe would make.

Setting the security system, I joined a group of tenants at the elevator. Mrs Bestler was there too with her coat on.

"Okay folks this is the plan," she whispered, as though they were being eavesdropped on by some sinister interloper.

Mr Kolakowski had to ask her to speak up, as he had his hearing aide on its highest setting. Suddenly it gave off a horrendous, high-pitched squeal. Mr Warnick snapped at him to turn the damned thing off. I had a posse of four protectors. The plan was surprisingly good, and I wondered if Mrs. Bestler wasn't way more cunning and sharp than I'd ever imagined.

We got on the elevator, and every one of those elderly friends of mine pulled out a progressively bigger gun. They had them aimed at the ceiling, but ready to retrain them on the enemy instantly should the need arise.

"What's with the guns?" I asked, eyes wide and not entirely without abject terror. I mean four senior citizens holding guns with shaky hands were NOT good.

"Uh— can you guys lose the guns? I think that might call attention to us, and we really don't want that. I'm supposed to blend in—remember?"

They put the guns away, and before I could say thanks, four shiny knives in various shapes and sizes appeared. Senior citizens were highly underestimated. I'd say they'd give even a street gang a run for their money.

"I don't think the knives are necessary either, but thanks for caring so much about my safety," I said gratefully.

The knives disappeared. What next—hand grenades?

Suddenly I felt a pretty firm pinch on my ass. Turning around, I found Mr. Wolensky giggling like a naughty schoolboy.

"Mr. Wolensky!" I scolded, my eyes filled with surprise.

"Sorry! But you sure do make a fetching old lady, Stephanie. I wish I could find one with a nice, firm butt like yours. Mostly, they just feel like dimpled marshmallows!" He shook his head, as if that was a pretty disgusting thought.

I didn't want to break the news to him, but his own ass probably felt the same way to his lady friends!

We exited the elevator in a pack, making our way as though we were attached to one another like Siamese quadruplets as we shuffled toward the car. The taller guys stayed on either side of me, so no one could see my face clearly. Mr. Warnick carried my big black bag, holding my skip tracing equipment and a pair of boots I'd brought to change into.

We got to the car uneventfully and as premeditated. I had plenty of assistance getting into the back seat to make me look pretty unstable on my own feet. The car filled up with all four of my cohorts, and off we went.

"Where to Steph? Do we need to drive like maniacs to lose this loser or what?"

"NOOOOOO! Before I could explain anything, Mr. Wolensky hit the gas hard, and the old Lincoln Towncar lurched forward like the cow jumping over the moon!

"I'm just going to Slater Street. You might pass it if you keep driving at that speed!" My eyes were bugging out as I felt the push back into my seat from the speed of light driving.

"Don't you worry, Stephanie—we won't let that asshole catch us. I can drive this baby from zero to a hundred and twenty in less than an hour!"

"Okay—well—uh—you need to stop. Slater Street is right there." I pointed it out over the middle of the back seat, holding on for dear life to the upholstery of the cushions in front of me.

"Are you sure? We were looking forward to a joyride just like the old days!" He slammed on the brakes.

The delighted laughter from the entire car told me what an amazingly wonderful time they felt they were having.

"I'm sure. Right here, please." He came to a screeching stop.

I sighed in relief. The last thing Joe needed was to hear I'd been killed going a few blocks in a runaway car packed full of senior citizens. He'd never live down the teasing that it'd only taken a bunch of old people to take me out after raving lunatics, mass murderers and vicious street gangs had all failed to dispose of me.

I tried to get out but not before gratefully planting kisses on all their cheeks. This wasn't the first time they'd saved my ass. I was so lucky to have such sweet friends. They were one of the reasons I'd never considered leaving my apartment for someplace with a younger atmosphere. There was something so charming and awe inspiring about the history they held inside their hearts. Yet, there was an almost youthful innocence in the way they approached life—guns—knives, wild driving and all.

Kate's POV

I took a deep breath. The Joe and Stephanie reunion mission should be underway by now. I couldn't believe I was back here at Rangeman. But Ranger had called me to let me know there'd been a slight change in the way it was all going to happen. He'd barely been able to stop laughing when he'd explained Stephanie was using a motorcycle to get to her appointed destination. And then I'd laughed when he'd told me of her ingenious disguise.

It felt strange to laugh together, after so much intensity between us. I guess it was nervous laughter we'd both needed to break the ice. How was I going to act like this was business when the matter at hand was extremely personal for both of us?

He'd suggested I come there to wait out Stephanie's arrival at Joe's house. He was afraid if she saw me at Joe's, we'd come to blows after our angrily charged breakfast a few days ago. I had nowhere else to wait, so I decided to be casual about it and agreed. We needed to know all our arrangements were going to go off without a hitch. Earlier that day, Eddie had brought supplies to Joe, and in doing so, had hidden Joe's gun. The last thing we needed was for Joe to use it on Stephanie. We'd let him know where it was once the two of them had been safely reunited.

This while thing was becoming more complicated than a full-blown Secret Service operation used to guard the President!

I knew it wouldn't be smooth sailing at first for Joe and Stephanie. Because of me, there would be issues to sort through, but as long as neither of them were armed, I was pretty sure they'd get past the tension and on to more loving moments. It felt right. I felt as though a little piece of the old Meghan was returning. If those two at least had some happiness, I could feel good again. It had been such a long time since I'd felt that.

Ranger handed me a coffee mug and returned to the chair across the room. I was grateful, because as sentimental as I was feeling for Joe and Stephanie, I might be in too vulnerable of a place to keep my resolve about us.

"I—think this was a good idea," he admitted, taking a sip.

"Yeah, it'd better work. It's the only thing that made sense."

"Well the stupid idiots better get their act together while they still can!"

"You're calling Stephanie stupid?" I was more than a little surprised.

Ranger shrugged, his mouth curled slightly. "She chose him didn't she?"

I couldn't help but laugh, because that was Ranger through and through. He made Lancelot from Camelot seem like a humble man.

"Is this hard for you?"

"No. This is what B—Steph wants, and she deserves to be happy."

"That's an almost human reaction."

"Yeah, well I slip-up every once in awhile."

"I remember." I wanted to bite my tongue. Damn it! Keep it impersonal.

"We should be hearing from Eddie once the bird has landed on the terrace."

"Knowing Stephanie, it won't be an easy landing!"

"She's had a few mishaps over the years, according to Joe."

"She's hell on wheels. And she's stubborn and pigheaded as they come. Not a lot different than you," he said reflectively.

I felt a zing to my heart I didn't want to feel. "We woman have it tough getting along in a man's world.

"I think you're all smarter than you want us to know." Ranger's eyes smiled. He had beautiful eyes.

"Maybe we are at that."

Ranger's phone buzzed. He looked at the text. "She just arrived at Joe's."

"Good. Now the rest is up to them."

"Those two have taken forever to get into the same book let alone on the same page." Ranger shook his head. "I supposed I wasn't much help," he added regretfully.

"Joe really loves her."

"That's no longer disputable," he agreed quietly.

"Well, then, to Joe and Stephanie." I raised my cup to him, and he raised his back. I felt the weight I'd held on my shoulders slowly slipping away, knowing when we had confirmation they were at the safe house together it would feel even lighter.

"To Stephanie and the idiot!" he agreed with a resigned smile.

Steph's POV

I scrambled down some darkened alleys making my way to Joe's house. The sun had set long before, and I had to use the light from the dimly lit streetlamps. When I got to his yard, the house was dark. Kate must've left for the evening. Good. The idea of her taking up residence in our house was not something I wanted to think about at all.

When it hit me that Morelli wasn't inside and might not be for a very long time, I felt like crying and had to rub my sleeve across my eyes. Now I missed him even more. When had this place become home to me?

I heard the growl first, as a shadowy shape approached me. A loud sniff changed the greeting to a friendly, loving bark. I felt myself being plastered to the ground by a familiar, furry friend.

"Bob—it's me! Oh my God, I miss you so much! I wish I could stay and play with you, boy, but I have to go."

I petted him lovingly, holding him close to me and feeling Morelli's absence as much as he did.

"I love you Bob, and I love your daddy too. We're all going to be home soon. You're such a good boy! You know how much we love you. Rex misses you too."

He licked my face and hands. Somehow he understood I couldn't stay, because he started in with some plaintive and miserable howling.

"Don't go there! I won't be able to stay strong if you cry!" I ordered him, giving him one last giant hug.

Hustling to the shed, I pulled the key from the pocket of my dress. I hoped like hell Morelli had left the Ducati key in its usual, secret hiding place. I was afraid he might've changed the locks on the shed when he'd changed the locks on the house to keep me out, but, thank God, he hadn't!

Shimming out of the geriatric clothing quickly, I took my black leather boots from the bag, slid them on and then pulled the side zippers down on the sleek sexy black leather riding pants Morelli had given me.

Blowing out a tinge of guilt for using his precious baby without his permission, I searched for the key to the Ducati.

Bingo!

I straightened the leather jacket that had gone askew from the dress having covered it. My hair was still pinned up tight from wearing the wig. Shoving the black and red helmet over my head, I was ready to rumble. I took the bike from the shed, surveying the house and surroundings carefully with my flashlight before proceeding. Bob howled only slightly as if he knew loud noises would call unwanted attention.

Taking the bike as quietly as possible, I walked it a little ways before jumping onto the seat and putting the key to ignition. Revving the humming motor, I felt free letting the tailwinds push me to the appointed destination.

So far I was on schedule. Clouds were rolling in. Feeling the first sprinkles of an April rain splattering my hands, I picked up the speed to beat the storm that was fast approaching.

I neared the address Eddie had given to me. Deciding to play it safe, I stopped the Ducati half a block away. Walking toward the alley behind the building where I was to meet Eddie, I assured myself the bike was sheltered safely. Joe would kill me if anything happened to it. Okay maybe not kill, but the look he'd give me would be close enough.

Eddie was leaning against his SUV. There was an overhang that allowed us protection from the rain, and the streetlight gave us enough illumination to make out our surroundings.

"Thanks, Steph, I know I was supposed to—wait a minute—is that Joe's Du—?" He gave me a surprised look. Then a bit of barely muffled laughter.

What the hell was so funny about me riding a damned motorcycle?

"Yeah, I had NO choice. And it's not like he's going to be using it!"

"No," Eddie smiled fondly, shaking his head. "That's true I guess. How about you give me five minutes to get up there? I'm sorry—I should've checked out the address before, but you'll need to climb up that fire escape to get to the back entrance. See the sliding glass doors?"

He pointed, and I could make out some interior lights shining through.

"Jeez, good thing I wore my climbing clothes!"

"You sure you're ready for this?" he asked again.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

The rain had started to come down fast and furious. Lightening was zapping across the sky in all directions.

"I have the cuffs and the spray. Let's get this over with before we turn into drowned rats."

I wasn't wild about climbing on the metal stairs with the lightning surrounding me, but I sent my fears packing. Eddie took off for the front of the building, and I counted down the minutes by lighting up my watch every so often. There was a dense fog rolling in. I wondered if the guy would even try to escape in this horrible, stormy weather. Suddenly I longed for the security of my own apartment. It didn't seem quite as much like a prison as it had before.

Joe's POV

The early spring rain turned from a light sprinkle to a sudden deluge, hitting hard and creating puddles on the deserted streets down below. Walking through the apartment, I checked windows for leaks. I wasn't familiar with the place, and so I didn't want any flooding surprises.

I heard the sound of the doorbell and checked first to see who was there. Eddie again? I had just seen him that afternoon when he'd brought supplies and clothing for me.

"Hi, did you forget to give me something?"

"Just a few more clothes. Your wife wanted to make sure you have everything you need."

"How could I need more clothing? Women, they always pack too much!" I joked with Eddie. I still wasn't used to wearing the gold band residing on my left finger.

"Yeah, go figure. Shirley packs up like she's going for a month when it's just a weekend."

"Well thanks for bringing everything. Say you didn't happen to see my gun when you were here earlier did you? For some damned reason I can't find it anywhere?"

"I doubt you'll need it, Joe. This is supposed to be a safe house after all," he joked.

"Maybe, but it's strange. I know I had it. Then it just disappeared."

"Probably the loft fairies got it," he made fun of me in his usual wise-ass way.

"Thanks for everything, Eddie. I know this isn't easy to keep from the other guys."

"It's okay, Joe. It's all for a good cause."

I couldn't resist asking him, "Have you seen Steph at all?"

"Yeah, I left one of your notes in the bathroom the other day. She must've found it by now."

"I'm sure she did. Thanks."

"I gotta get going. Shirley will be sending out a search party soon."

"The weather's really ugly. You don't want her to worry. I'll see you soon, Eddie."

I hoped I'd see him again—he'd been one of my best, most trusted friends.

"Ok, good luck. I mean—um—I'll be seeing you too." He smiled, and we shook hands.

He left, and I closed the door, locking it securely and feeling very alone. This big huge place was a reminder I had no one to talk to or hold or sleep with. God I missed Stephanie more than I'd dreamed was possible.

Deciding to return to my flood watch duties, I found a partially opened window that led out to the patio from the bedroom. I was just closing it when I heard a metallic scrapping sound. It was originating from the terraced area. The creaking continued rhythmically as though someone was climbing up the side of the apartment building, on the fire escape.

I quickly turned off all the lights.

Shit! Where the hell was my gun?

Making my way quietly out the French doors to the ledged terrace, I was immediately drenched in the torrential downpour. It could be to my advantage. If I couldn't see much, neither would the intruder. Had someone followed Eddie? Why wouldn't he have noticed? Damn it. The only weapons I had were my hands—along with the element of surprise.

Being careful not to bump into the patio furniture, I plastered myself against the jagged brick side of the building and hid in the deep shadows of a large tree branch hanging over the north corner of the loft. The creaking sounds continued as the intruder made his way up toward the safe house.

It wasn't long before I heard the unmistakable sound of the interloper's boots as he jumped down onto the terrace. I made my move. I could barely make out the silhouette between the pouring rain and the fast approaching fog. It was a complete stab in the dark. Grabbing his jacket, I twirled him around to face me. I couldn't see a damn thing!

I put him into a chokehold, feeling pretty secure I'd won this battle, when to my utter astonishment; I felt my body being catapulted into an aerial summersault. My boot-bruised side clunked down onto the hard cement, splashing puddles of water all over us. The air was knocked out of me for a split second, and as I regained oxygen, the perpetrator took full advantage of my momentary incapacitation, jumping onto me and pummeling me furiously with his fists.

Shit!

The guy hadn't felt like he had much weight behind him when I'd grabbed him, but he sure packed a wallop of a punch. It didn't help that I was already kind of bruised and battered to begin with.

I scooted by body away, growling with the effort. Grabbing at the wildly gyrating body on top of me, he finally lost his advantage when I moved out from underneath him. Whoever this idiot turned out to be was a vicious fighter!

I managed to knock him off his knees and throw him enough off balance that his entire mass fell straight on top of me. Both of us were flatly plastered together by the soaking wet state of our clothing, which was serving as a suctioning conduit.

We laid there in dead silence for a few seconds. There was no mistaking the intuitiveness flowing over me as I recognized the familiar feelings. I'd felt this body under and over mine countless times. I fought the overwhelming urge to pull her closer and kiss her for all she was worth.

I heard a huge gasp.

"My God, Morelli!

We'd both recognized one another at the same time.

"Cup—Stephanie!" I yelled out, every bit as shocked as she was.

"What in the hell are you doing here?" we shouted out in unison, while the splattering rain cascaded over us.