Free At Last
Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world.
A/N: Thank goodness it's the Thanksgiving weekend! I'm extremely grateful for the time off. Now that I've been recertified as an instructor/trainer, more opportunities to teach more classes have been coming my way. It's been great, but tiring, and I can't seem to stay on top of my updates. Nevertheless, I will finish posting this story before the end of this calendar year. I'm glad that most of you really liked the previous chapter, even though I ended it with a slight cliffhanger. And thanks again to everyone who took the time to let me know what you think of my writing. Enjoy!
"Have you called your mom?" I asked Julie.
"Yes. I just got off the phone with her. She was really happy that I was okay. Her and my dad are going to fly up here and get me. She said she wasn't putting me on a plane alone. And she told Tank that he wasn't to let me out of his sight." Julie grinned. "She's a little overprotective."
Twelve Sharp
Chapter 36: Frequent Flyers, Part 2
Stephanie's POV
When Ranger first informed me that his daughter, Julie, was in some sort of trouble and needed our help, I was afraid that something bad had happened – again. Fortunately, it wasn't a life-or-death situation. In fact, Julie was doing quite well – all things considered. Ranger had arranged for her to see a child psychiatrist to help her deal with recurring nightmares about Edward Scrog, the insane man who had kidnapped the girl over a year ago. Julie had made tremendous progress, but apparently Rachel had become more and more protective of the girl and barely let her out of her sight now.
"Julie won an award for an essay she wrote in school," Ranger explained to me after we finished our dinner. "The awards ceremony took place in Tallahassee, at the state capitol last week, but Rachel wouldn't allow Julie to go because she feared for her safety."
"Oh, no!" I exclaimed softly as I followed him into the living room. "Julie must have been so disappointed."
"She was," Ranger nodded and pulled me onto his lap when he sat down on the sofa. "But it's part of a disturbing pattern. The last time I talked to Ron Martine, he said it's like Rachel has gone over the edge. She ferries Julie and the other kids to and from school every day and they're only allowed to play in their own backyard where she can keep an eye on them. Julie is allowed to have friends visit at the Martine's house, but Rachel won't let her go over to anyone else's house – not even to her best friend's home, which is only two doors down."
"Whoa!" I said. "That sounds serious."
Ranger had turned on the stereo and the sounds of light jazz filled the air. He kissed the back of my neck and then began to knead the tight muscles of my neck and shoulders. I think I might have started to purr in contentment. It was difficult to focus on Ranger's words, but I made more of an effort to pay attention to what he was saying.
"It gets even worse," Ranger continued. "The Martine kids have played soccer in their community's youth leagues for several years, but Rachel wouldn't sign up Julie or her half-siblings for it this year. She gave them some lame excuses about not liking the league's coaches anymore, but Ron told me it's really about the lack of security on the playing fields."
"Can't Ron help Rachel see that she's being way overprotective?" I asked.
Applying slight pressure to get me to lean forward a bit, Ranger worked his magic fingertips down the length of my back. "He's trying. Julie said she heard them arguing about whether or not she would have been safe travelling to the awards ceremony in Tallahassee with a full contingent of RangeMan guards. Unfortunately, Rachel wouldn't even discuss asking me for such a thing."
"Geez," I said. "I'd feel safe with a bunch of Merry Men escorting me anywhere."
I could feel Ranger's smile as he said, "Babe."
"Seriously, Carlos," I said, "I don't understand Rachel's objections."
"Unfortunately, I do," Ranger grumbled. "It's my fault. That bad business with Scrog exposed Julie to incomprehensible danger. It also exposed the Martine family to intense public scrutiny. Rachel feels that everyone knows far too much about them now."
I thought about this. "Well," I said, "Your names, photos and life stories were plastered all over the news for a while. I guess I'd feel a little over-exposed, too."
Ranger blew out a sigh. "Rachel's afraid that there are other crazies out there waiting to attack anyone connected with me. She's really angry at me, but she's been taking out her frustrations with me on the rest of her family. When Julie called me, she reported that the younger kids are beginning to blame her for their current lack of freedom. Right now, the whole Martine family is miserable. It's not a healthy situation. Of course, Ron is trying to keep the peace, but it's not going very well."
Somehow, while he'd been talking, Ranger had unfastened my bra and his warm hands slid under my fuzzy knit top to rub my back … and other places. The man truly was a wizard, I thought. My eyes glazed over and I heard myself moan. Ranger chuckled low and kissed the back of my neck again.
"Maybe Rachel should see a counselor, too," I murmured. "The way things are going, we're all going to be seeing shrinks next year, anyway."
"I've spoken to Rachel a few times already, but she's in denial about her behavior," Ranger replied. "Ron was able to convince her to go to a few sessions with a counselor who was recommended by Julie's therapist, but she decided that she can handle things better on her own. The kicker is that Rachel insists she's becoming less overprotective."
Truthfully, I could relate. Denial is second nature to me. I'd hate to see what Julie's life would be like if Rachel hadn't seen a counselor at all, though. The poor girl would probably be locked into a tower like Rapunzel or some other fairytale princess. I shuddered at the thought.
Ranger's hands stopped for a moment and he asked, "Are you cold, Babe?"
"No; quite the opposite," I admitted. "You know you make me feel warm all over."
He gently kissed the back of my neck and continued to speak, "Ron also told me that Rachel is talking about home-schooling the kids so that she won't have to worry about what could happen to Julie if someone else tries to get at me through her."
"That would be horrible!" I exclaimed and I wondered where Ranger's hands were headed next. "I mean, if their neighborhood schools weren't very good or if there were religious reasons for Rachel to home-school her kids, then I could see her point. But to do it in a misguided attempt to keep Julie safe just doesn't seem right."
"I know," Ranger nodded, his hands still resting at the bottom of my ribcage. "That's why Julie called me. She wants me to talk some sense back into her mom - in person. Dr. O'Neill gave me the names of a few family counselors in Miami who specialize in PTSD cases and I hope to convince Rachel to see one of them ASAP. I've never meddled so closely in the Martine's personal business - or Julie's upbringing - before this. I'm not sure that the outcome will be ... pleasant."
I considered this for a moment before I spoke again. "Carlos, you once told me that Rachel and Ron are good parents. It sounds like they're just going through a rough patch in the aftermath of the whole Scrog incident. I guess I'd probably be a little spooked, too, if my daughter was snatched away from me. I'm sure that Ron just wants Rachel to feel safe and secure."
"A year ago, just after Julie went back to Florida, I offered to pay for Ron and Rachel to relocate to a gated community, but they declined," Ranger said tiredly and he leaned back to stretch out along the length of the sofa. He arranged my body on top of his so that his hands could roam more freely over the front of my body and then he continued to speak. "Regardless of the safety issues, Rachel doesn't want to live in a place where her neighbors would look down their noses at her and her family."
"Do you really think that's what would happen if they moved?" I asked, knowing full well that people could be quite snobby.
Ranger sighed again and his fingertips began to drift upward in lazy circles on my skin. "It's because Ron works at a blue-collar job. Right now, they live comfortably in a middle class neighborhood, where most of their neighbors have similar jobs and interests. Admittedly, the places I recommended were a bit more upscale and it would be sort of like when I moved from Newark to Coral Gables."
My breath hitched in my throat when Ranger's hands reached their obvious targets, but I managed to squeak, "H-how so?" I was always intrigued to learn more about my Man of Mystery's younger days.
Ranger shifted again and turned both of us over until I was beneath him, gazing up into his eyes. Wizard that he was, he quickly removed his own shirt after divesting me of mine. After a few more moments of kissing, he supported his body above me and explained, "At first I just kept my mouth shut so that the kids wouldn't make fun of my Jersey accent, but then I realized that there were things – upper class things - that they knew about and I didn't. It took a while for me to feel comfortable in my grandparent's world. Fortunately, I had my cousin, Val, to help me navigate through it all. Rachel doesn't want that kind of hassle for either herself or her kids. Nevertheless, it's time for me to help my daughter - and the sooner, the better." Then he lowered his lips to my body and continued to kiss every sensitive place between my neck and my bellybutton.
"S-so … w-when will we l-leave?" I stuttered as his sensual assault melted me to the core.
"I was thinking about leaving … the day after our New Year's Eve job for Brenda," Ranger replied in between his kisses. "We could stay in Miami a for few days, talk things over with Rachel and Julie, and then head over to Tampa - if that's okay with you, of course."
"Of … course," I moaned softly. I nearly forgot my own name as his hands and lips continued to work their magic on my body.
"Babe," Ranger murmured appreciatively.
Suddenly, I stiffened as my brain finally clicked back on. "Wait!" I exclaimed. "That's … that's New Year's Day! Do you know how much it'll cost on to fly on that date?" I knew it was expensive because Valerie always complained about the high cost of holiday travel when she still lived out in California.
"Not an issue here," Ranger glanced up and replied. "My Uncle Diego offered us a ride on the company plane. We'll have to make one stop in North Carolina to pick up my Tío Lucas, who was visiting there with his wife's side of the family for the holidays, as well as some business associates who are accompanying them to a big meeting in Miami with my Tío Riva."
"Tío Riva?" I repeated. "That's your cousin, Val's dad, right?"
Ranger smiled at me. "Yes, he's the CEO of Suarez Enterprises. Believe me, Babe; he likes to travel in style. Wait 'til you see the company plane; it's actually a Boeing Business Jet and it's fully loaded. Unlike Papí, all of my uncles love to travel by plane. Uncle Diego and Tío Lucas just returned from a trip to Germany to check out the latest models of Mercedes and BMWs. That's why we can hitch a ride with them now."
"Oh. Okay, then I guess it's … all … set," I heard myself say, even though a small, sane corner of my brain protested.
What was I thinking? This new development meant that we'd be leaving for Miami in less than three days! Screw it, I thought, as I arched upward to help Ranger remove the rest of my clothes. The way I felt at that moment, I would have agree to anything my Batman asked of me. I just wanted him to finish what he had started; which, of course, he did with great Bat-style.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Ranger's POV
Yes, it was rather sneaky of me to use "sofa therapy" to convince my Babe to leave for Florida earlier than we originally had planned, but she certainly didn't complain. Besides, Ella did most of the packing for our trip, anyway. This saved us quite a bit of time; however, it also meant that Stephanie had to say her farewells before we went to the casino complex to join the rest of the RangeMan security team for Brenda's concert.
Tank took the concert security team out to Atlantic City the day before the event to get everything set up in advance, while Stephanie and I stayed in Trenton an extra day to finish up some last-minute paperwork. As I had said, my Uncle Diego had arranged for the Súarez Enterprises executive jet to pick us up in Atlantic City and take us to Miami on New Year's Day. I knew that my Babe would be totally surprised when we boarded the aircraft, especially since I had big plans for solidifying our membership in the "Mile-High Club" by the time we landed in Florida.
Truthfully, I wasn't looking forward to the concert security job. It was a time-sucking nuisance, but business is business and Brenda's manager had already deposited a large amount of money into my corporate bank account. Although this was supposed to be my last official RangeMan mission for a while, I was glad when Tank offered to take the early crew out to the casino to complete the set up with the hotel's regular security force. Lula insisted on going with him, and that actually turned out to be for the best. Apparently, Brenda really liked Lula and, strangely enough, Lula had no problem keeping the singer out of trouble.
Stephanie joined Lula as soon as we arrived at the venue, and the three women seemed to have a great time swapping stories and telling tales while we all waited for the concert. Brenda's assigned handler from the entertainment company welcomed the diversions and asked if RangeMan would consider a continuing contract with them. As much as I like making money, I declined the opportunity. We had gotten lucky this time, since the mob basically ignored us on this mission. I knew that if we had a regular security contract, we'd have to pay the "regular fees" and it wouldn't be healthy to have such a close relationship with those guys.
While Steph spent time with the other ladies, I checked us into our hotel rooms and made sure that everything was set up the way I wanted. When I had reserved the rooms, I made sure that the Plum's room was located on the same floor as our room – just at the opposite end of the hallway. I also made sure that Tank and Lula's room was on a completely different floor of the hotel from us. I'm not stupid.
After a late lunch with the whole crew, Brenda went to her suite of rooms to take a nap in preparation for the evening concert. I took that opportunity to go over the final plans with Tank and then I ushered Steph up to our room. We made sweet love to one another until it time to get ready to go back downstairs. As soon as we had showered and dressed, Steph called her parents' cell phone to find out if their experience at the hotel was going smoothly. It was. Then she called Lula to find out if she and Tank were ready to go downstairs. They were. Finally, Steph called Ella to find out if her hamster, Rex, was all right. He was.
"Babe," I said, shaking my head.
She smiled sheepishly at me and admitted, "I know. I know. Everything is fine. It's just that … well … I have that certain feeling again. You know; the one I get when something feels a little … off."
"Your 'spidey senses' are kicking in, huh?" I remarked.
She nodded and said, "Yup, they are. And I know better than to just ignore them."
Now I nodded and gazed at her. She was right, of course; something didn't feel quite right. I had sensed it, too, but I figured it had more to do with the fact that working with Brenda was such a pain in the ass than anything else. I called down to the singer's suite and silently breathed a sigh of relief when her handler assured me that everything was going according to the schedule. Brenda was clamoring for her two new best gal pals – Lula and Steph – to "get their asses down there pronto," but she was behaving as well as could be expected so far. Steph and I met Tank and Lula at the elevator and then we all went to our assigned places.
Amazingly – and despite our misgivings - the concert went off without a hitch. Lula and Stephanie had done a great job of limiting Brenda's pre-concert alcohol intake. The singer was in good spirits, but not drunk, and the crowd really seemed to have a great time with her raunchy, but good-natured banter between the song sets. Just before midnight, Brenda encouraged everyone to find someone to kiss and I made sure that my Babe was secure in my embrace. It was the best New Years' kiss of my life!
The singer surprised her guitarist with a full-tongued kiss and then launched into an upbeat version of the traditional song, "Auld Lang Syne." Confetti rained downed on both the stage and the audience as Brenda finished her final set of the evening. RangeMan's security obligations wouldn't be finished until the singer boarded her flight back to Las Vegas the next day, but Tank was fully in charge. Steph and I were done for the night.
After the concert, we slipped out into the audience and joined the Plums at their table. They introduced us to the other two couples who shared their table and we all wished each other a Happy New Year. It quickly became clear that Steph's parents and their new friends had consumed quite a few celebratory beverages during the concert and afterward. Even so, everything was fine until Frank and Ellen began to thank us profusely for both their tickets to the show and their fantastic afternoon enjoying the wonderful hotel accommodations.
"The fresh fruit and floral arrangement was so beautiful!" Helen Plum gushed at her daughter.
"You're such a good daughter," said one of the other women at the table. "I was telling your mother here that neither my son nor my daughter has ever done something so nice for me."
Helen actually blushed and said, "Oh! And that bottle of champagne on ice was just so … so very nice!" For the first time, I noticed a sparkle in Helen's blue eyes and I suddenly saw the resemblance between Steph and her mother. It was almost … shocking.
Frank Plum was smiling, too, as he added, "Yep, there's nothing like a big bottle of bubbly to move things in the right direction – if you know what I mean." And then his elbow jabbed me in my ribs. Another shock!
I silently guessed what had put the sparkle in Helen's eyes and then I struggled not to smile at my sudden insight. Perhaps this new development was what had given Steph her feeling that there had been a "disturbance in the force" earlier in the evening. Unfortunately, I didn't think that the Plum's rekindled intimacy was what had caused me to have my "bad feeling," especially because I still felt that something wasn't quite right in our little corner of the world.
Stephanie slid a sideways glance at me and I winked at her. My Babe hadn't known about all of the special arrangements I had made for her parents' little hotel get-away. In addition to the fruit and flowers and champagne, I had instructed – and paid for - the hotel staff to meet every need of the guests who were staying in Room 1111, to include room service meals, a spa treatment for the wife and a thousand dollars worth of casino chips for the husband. I really wanted to overwhelm Steph's parents and help them understand that their daughter was now in my very capable hands. Okay, so maybe I was buying them off just a little, but from the looks on the Plums' faces, my strategy was working quite well.
The hotel had hired a DJ to cover the rest of the night after Brenda's concert, and the party was still in full swing. The older couples convinced Steph and me to join them for a few dances. Although I desperately wanted to take my Babe back up to our room and do some "horizontal dancing," I figured that we'd be far away from her family for the next few months and I'd have her all to myself. So, we stayed and danced for a while.
Surprisingly, the Plums danced very well together. I even grinned when I realized that we sort-of matched Steph's parents. Frank and I both had on black tuxedos. Of course, his was an older, generic one and mine was, well, an Armani, but he looked pretty good. My Babe was wearing a sparkly silver top under her short black bolero jacket and her long black skirt had a fringe of silver beads all along its hemline. Helen Plum was wearing a long dress made of sparkly silver material and a black velvet bolero jacket with silver embroidery on the lapel. I noticed that the older woman's figure was still very nice. I liked what that meant for my Babe's future. You know what they say about women looking like their mothers over time.
It was already three hours into the new year and although we were having a fairly good time, I could barely wait to take my Babe back up to our room, strip off all of our fancy clothes and climb into bed with her. My frustrations finally got the best of me, so I made our apologies and we bid everyone a good night. Steph obviously felt the same way because be both nearly ran to the elevators and stood there impatiently until one arrived to ferry us upstairs.
Once we were in the elevator, I pulled my Babe into a tight embrace and kissed her senseless. Pulling the hairpins from her upswept curls, I ran my fingers through the thick tresses to loosen them around her shoulders. Then I nuzzled her neck and slid her jacket off of her creamy white shoulders. I was about to go further when the elevator reached our floor and the doors slid open. To my utter surprise and horror, two goons with guns raised and pointed at us were standing there to greet us.
**"Hand over your wife right now, Mr. Mañoso,"** one of the men growled in Spanish, **"or else we'll have to-"**
But I didn't finish hearing what he had to say because I quickly pushed Steph to the ground, pulled out my own weapon and lunged for the elevator buttons. The distinctive pings of bullets ricocheting off the metal doors alerted me to the fact that, whoever these new enemies were, there were morons. When I kneeled down next to Steph, she assured me that she was fine and I held her in my arms for a moment before we both stood up. Then I quickly called Tank on my cell phone to alert him to the situation, as well as to request that he meet us in the basement.
"Got 'em on the monitor," said Tank, who happened to be passing by the hotel's security office on the first floor when I called. "We can see those losers now; they're in the elevator next to yours. Our guys'll be waiting for them when they come out. The police are on their way. See you in a minute." And he disconnected.
"W-what was that about?" Steph asked. "What did those guys want?"
I shook my head, not wanting to translate for her. "It was an attempted kidnapping. I don't know who they're working for or why they wanted you, Babe, but we're going to find out very soon."
When we got to the basement, I asked Steph to go with Brett and to stay put in one of RangeMan SUVs. After a moment's hesitation, she acquiesced to my serious glare and went with him. Once I was sure that my Babe was safe, I joined Tank behind the thick cement columns and we waited for the elevator doors to open. As soon as the goons stepped out, my men grabbed them from behind and easily disarmed them, holding their arms behind their backs.
**"Who are you?"** I demanded in Spanish. **"Who sent you?"**
The taller of the two men shot a warning glare at his partner, but when Hal pulled the guy into a tight headlock, he lost his nerve.
"S-S-Señor Galarza," he stammered. Glancing between me and Tank, the man's wide eyes showed that he was scared witless. He continued to speak in Spanish, **"W-w-we were supposed to grab your wife, take her back to the boat. He was going to hold her captive until he decided how much ransom to ask for."**
**"Shut up, you stupid oaf!"** growled the taller goon. **"I told you not to shoot, or else others would know that we are here. But did you listen to me? No!"**
Ram cut off the man's air supply for a moment, which immediately silenced him. I stepped closer to the scared man and asked why he was trying to kidnap my wife. He whimpered a bit and then he answered in quivery voice.
**"Mr. Galarza said you … you have to pay for Tommy's death,"** the shorter man said in Spanish.
The other thug wriggled loose for a second and yelled, **"You'd better shut up now before I kill you myself!"**
"Control him!" I ordered Ram, who then stuffed a rag into the man's mouth and tightened his grip on the man's arms behind his back.
**"P-p-please,"** the shorter man pleaded, **"I-I-I d-don't want t-to die!"**
**"Tell me; how were you supposed to contact your employer once you had my wife in your possession?"** I asked.
**"He gave us a special number to call,"** the man replied in a defeated tone of voice. **"It's already programmed into our phones."**
I nodded at Hal and Ram and they dug through the men's pockets until they found their cell phones. I picked one and flipped it open.
**"Where are you?"** demanded the voice on the other end of the line. **"Do you have her yet?"**
"Sí," I replied, imitating the higher pitch of our captive's voice.
The disembodied voice barked, **"Well? What are you idiots waiting for? Bring the witch here to me!"** And then he abruptly disconnected.
Two things suddenly occurred to me. The first thing was that the voice on the other end didn't sound like the senior Roberto Galarza at all. The world-famous record producer was well-known for his deep and melodious bass voice. He had been a club singer in his younger days, before he worked his way up into the management side of the music industry. The second thing was that I'd bet anything we were dealing with the younger Roberto Galarza, our deceased FTA's "distraught" brother.
My cousin, Gonzo, had informed me that a local judge recently threw out a wrongful death civil suit against RangeMan of Miami over Tommy Galarza's death. Somehow, the Galarza family had discovered that our company provided security at Val's nightclub. According to the lawsuit, several witnesses had been willing to testify that some gay-bashing thugs had attacked Tommy before the security team was able to turn him over to federal custody.
Interestingly, none of the "witnesses," except for Roberto Galarza, Junior, had showed up at the judge's hearing. Of course, our lawyer was on top of it and presented all of the official documents, including the statements from Stephanie, me and the other men who were directly involved in the apprehension and transfer of the fugitive Tommy Galarza. The lawsuit was dismissed due to lack of supporting evidence, but that's probably where Roberto Galarza learned of our names. Unfortunately, my Babe and I were too easy to find.
Part of me wanted to go down to the marina, find the Galarza's yacht and kick Roberto, Jr.'s worthless, doped-up ass all the way back to Puerto Rico. Sadly, I didn't think that his father would thank me for thwarting the young man's plans. After all, our names would always be tied to his other worthless son's death. The other part of me was sick and tired of all this crap. Stephanie and I had endured enough of the crazies and psychos. We needed to get away – ASAP.
Turning to Tank, I said in French this time – to confuse the enemy, **"I'm done here. Turn this mess over to the police. They can take our statements in the morning before Steph and I get on the airplane."** It had been a while since I'd used a third language, but I was pretty sure I had said all the right words.
Tank smiled at me and replied in French, **"But of course, my friend. We'll take care of everything. You take care of your lovely wife. Happy New Year!"**
"Yeah, whatever," I muttered as I walked over to the SUV where my Babe's curious face was peering through the window. Then I turned back to Tank and said, "Happy New Year to you, too!"
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Stephanie's POV
New Year's Day didn't start out exactly as I had hoped it would. First of all, even though Ranger was very sweet about it, he still woke me up at the crack of dawn so that we could give our statements to the Atlantic City Police. The officers who came to the hotel to take our statements got a real kick out of interviewing the "infamous Bombshell Bounty Hunter" in person. One guy even asked for my autograph after we had completed our official business. I could feel Ranger tense up at the odd request, but I just sighed and signed a napkin. Really, at this point, all I wanted was another cup of coffee.
Breakfast with my parents wasn't as bad as I'd thought it would be. My mother had never been this mellow around me and Ranger before. In fact, she didn't even ask me again if we were going to try to get pregnant during our stay in Florida. And I'd never seen my father grinning so much. Apparently, an overnight stay at a swanky hotel – away from all the craziness of Grandma Mazur and Valerie and Albert and their brood - was something my parents should have done a long time ago. Who knew?
"Be sure to write," Mom urged as we said our farewells. "It would be nice to get at least a post card from you two."
My dad hugged me tight and whispered in my ear, "You married well, Stephanie. I hope you and Carlos have a good time down there with each other. You deserve it."
I tried not to let loose the tears which suddenly stung my eyes as Tank and Lula drove us away toward the Atlantic City Airport. Ranger and I hadn't told my parents about the attempted kidnapping, nor had we admitted to having any involvement with the rumors of gunshots being fired within the hotel. It felt as though we – my parents and me, that is - were moving into new territory. If they didn't' ask, I wouldn't tell. Sometimes, ignorance truly was bliss, and I think we all had decided to be as happy as possible.
Although I've never been a real fan of flying in airplanes, I must admit that the more times Ranger and I traveled together, the better I was becoming at dealing with my irrational fears. Besides, after the New Year's Eve adventures that we'd had, very little about flying through the air inside of a glorified tin can attached to wings with jet engines should frighten me, right? Nevertheless, the flight from New Jersey to Florida was the most fantastic – and unique – yet. Trust me when I say that the Súarez family knows how to live well, whether on land or sea or up in the air.
When we walked out to the lone aircraft sitting on a sparsely-populated part of the tarmac, a man emerged from the door at the top of the stairs and greeted us with an exuberant, "Happy New Year, Carlos and Stephanie! I'm so glad you could join us today!"
"It's good to see you, too, Uncle Diego," Ranger said to the dark-eyed man. "Thanks for letting us tag along with you."
Uncle Diego shook his head and said, "No problem! Besides, if this opportunity hadn't come up so soon, who knows when I would have met your lovely bride?"
Even at the age of sixty, Diego Suarez; youngest son of Blanca and Ricardo Suarez, exuded the charm and sex appeal of a man half his age. Luckily, Ranger's mother had showed me lots of photographs, so I was somewhat prepared. There was just something about the men in Ranger's family. Tall, dark and handsome only scratched the surface of describing them. It was exciting – and scary. I felt my face grow warm as I climbed the stairs and Uncle Diego stared down at me with a big grin on his face. When I reached the top, he took my hand and pressed it to his lips in a way that sent a tingle down my spine.
"So this is the marvelous Stephanie Plum!" Diego said when he released my hand. I noticed the touches of silver at his temples and the deep laugh lines at the sides of his eyes and mouth as he continued to speak, "I've heard so much about you, from so many different members of my extended family. Even the staff down at my Point Pleasant condo spoke highly of you. I must confess to being extremely curious - and anxious - to meet the woman who finally snagged my nephew here."
Embarrassed, I replied, "I'm sure the stories have been exaggerated. And I'm pleased to meet you, too."
"May we board now, Uncle?" Ranger asked, sounding just a tiny bit annoyed. "I thought you said you have a fairly tight schedule."
The corner of Diego's salt-and-pepper mustache lifted and there was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he replied, "Of course. Everything is ready, Carlos, just as you requested. We'll take off into the friendly skies as soon as you and Stephanie settle in. Once we get to our cruising altitude, you'll be free to … ah, move about the aircraft."
I grew suspicious at the hesitation in Uncle Diego's voice, as well as his choice of words, but all of those thoughts flew out of my head as soon as we went through the doorway and entered the aircraft. It was almost like being on the Batcave yacht again. Everything screamed, "Luxury!" The soft leather seats looked like regular reclining chairs and they were arranged in some sort of lounge configuration, complete with a sectional sofa and plush carpeting. There were even vases of fresh flowers on the low tables in between the various seats. Beyond the lounge was a small dining area with a television built right into the partition wall.
A tall, blonde woman greeted us, "Welcome aboard, Mr. and Mrs. Mañoso. Mr. Súarez told us that you two are newly married. Congratulations and Happy New Year! My name is Ilsa Gordon. My husband, Carl, is the pilot, his brother, Gregory, is the first co-pilot and I am your flight attendant for today's trip. Please allow me to show you to your seats." Her accent seemed to be Northern European and she was gorgeous.
"Obviously, I've been flying on the wrong airlines all my life," I quipped as I followed the woman into the plane.
Uncle Diego chuckled and explained, "Yes, well I must admit that Súarez Enterprises is a rather exclusive airline. In fact, my oldest brother Riva usually keeps it the company plane to himself, but he sent me and another brother, Lucas, to Europe last month. Now we are returning the aircraft to him in Miami, but we are most delighted to have you and our nephew along for this very special journey."
Again, I had the feeling that he and Ranger were keeping secrets from me, but it was time for us to get going and I wasn't really in the mood to pursue my hunch. Ilsa escorted Ranger and me to seats next to each other and we buckled ourselves in. She explained that she would return after we were in the air and then she disappeared behind a door I assumed led to the cockpit. When Uncle Diego followed Ilsa and left us alone, Ranger explained that his mother's youngest brother also happened to be one of the co-pilots.
"Uncle Diego likes adventures," Ranger said. "He took private flying lessons as soon as he was wealthy enough to do so. Tío Riva indulges him from time to time, but he's only allowed to co-pilot on short trips. The Gordon brothers are the professional pilots who handle most of the flights."
"And I suppose that Ilsa is part of a package deal?" I asked cattily.
"Babe," Ranger sounded amused. "You heard her say that her husband is the pilot, didn't you? Tío Riva was very lucky when he hired this trio away from Lufthansa Airlines several years ago. There are other crew members who also work for Suarez Enterprises, but with so few passengers on today's flights, I'm sure they all got the day off."
"How nice for them," I murmured, trying not to focus on the fact that the aircraft was speeding down the runway. Then, deciding to change the subject, I asked, "Why do you use Spanish titles for some of your relatives and English titles for others?" I asked,
Ranger reassuringly intertwined his fingers with my fingers and smiled at me. "I guess it's always been a matter of their choices," he replied. "My parents, Uncle Diego, and my Grandma Rosa all prefer their English titles. Most of the others prefer Spanish. It's complicated, but you'll get the hang of it soon enough. Just follow my lead and you'll be fine."
I tensed up when I sensed that we were rapidly climbing into the air, but Ranger pulled my hand over to his chest and he simply reminded me to breathe. Closing my eyes, I willed myself to relax. I wasn't quite ready to enjoy the experience, but I felt that I was doing much better than ever before. It was hard to tell how much time had passed, but when I finally opened my eyes, Ranger was gazing at me with such intensity that I knew something was up.
"W-what's the m-matter?" I asked.
"Nothing," he replied.
I narrowed my eyes at him and asked, "Then why are you looking at me that way?"
A slow grin spread across his face and he raised my fingertips to his lips. "It's time," he said and he unbuckled both of our seatbelts.
"T-time f-for what?" I stammered.
"You'll see," Ranger said as he lifted me to my feet, swept me up into his arms, and then carried through the dining area toward a door at the back of the aircraft.
When Ranger pushed open the door and carried me across the threshold of the doorway, I gasped in astonishment. It was a bedroom! There was a queen-sized bed against one wall of the airplane and highly polished wood furnishings throughout the rest of the well-appointed compartment. Whereas the jet's lounge and dining room were decorated in neutral beiges with brown and red accents, royal blue was the main color in the bedroom and its adjoining bathroom. Again, I was amazed by the sheer luxury of everything.
"I know you've heard rumors about the "Mile-High Club," Babe," Ranger said as he gently placed me onto the bed. His grin had turned hungry and there was no doubt about what was going to happen next. "Today we're going to join that club," he proclaimed, "and it's going to be good."
Boy-o-boy was it ever good! At first, I admit that I was a bit apprehensive. I mean, what if we hit turbulence while we were in the middle of, well, you know? Ranger assured me that the clear weather conditions practically guaranteed us a smooth flight to North Carolina. He also told me that neither Uncle Diego nor any of the other members of the crew would bother us during this time. There would be more passengers on the trip from Carolina down to Florida, but since we were the only ones back here now, we didn't have to worry about how much noise we made.
Ranger was quick the first time we made love, but he went at a more leisurely pace the second time around. All I knew was that this was like no other flight I'd ever taken before. Afterward, we showered in the very nice, fully-stocked bathroom which was connected to the bedroom. Our luggage had been stored in the bedroom's closets, so we had everything we needed to emerge from our "love nest" looking fresh and neat. Honestly, it felt like we were in a fancy hotel - not onboard an airplane. Only the constant hum and vibrations from the jet's engines reminded me that we were high up in the sky. Who knew flying could be such fun?
Ilsa awaited us in the dining area when we walked out of the bedroom and through the lounge. She had set the table with a light snack of fresh fruit and cheeses, as well as delicate-looking crackers, all of which were displayed on fine china plates. The flatware appeared to be real silver, as did the pitchers of ice water and fruit juice in the center of the table. The television was tuned to one of the twenty-four-hour news stations, but I wondered if Ilsa had heard any of the noises Ranger and I had made while we were in the bedroom. We sat down to eat and Uncle Diego slid through the cockpit door to join us.
"Mission accomplished?" Uncle Diego asked Ranger in a sly tone of voice.
Ranger merely grinned at me and nodded his head once. Uncle Diego slid what appeared to be a piece of parchment across the table toward us. It was a "certificate" indicating the date and approximate location of what had just transpired and verified our new status as members of the "Mile-High Club." I was tempted to be angry, but the more time I spent around my new husband's family, the more I realized that they were just like the folks back in the Burg. Sure, the Súarez side of the family dressed nicer, and drove fancier vehicles – of all types – and lived a rather different lifestyle than the Mañoso side, but they were just as nosy, mischievous and meddlesome as anyone in my family.
I plastered a fake smile on my face to hide my embarrassment and said, "How kind of you to make all the arrangements for this …um, occasion, Uncle Diego. I'll bet this sort of thing happens all the time."
Uncle Diego threw back his head and laughed aloud. When he finished laughing, he explained his mirth, "It was my pleasure to make all the arrangements for you and Carlos, my dear. However, contrary to what you might be thinking right now, very little excitement ever happens on these private flights. Usually, Riva just bores everyone to tears with meetings about cost estimates and monthly sales figures for all branches of the company. When my nephew contacted me about a ride down to Florida, I jumped at the chance to help make it special for both of you – especially since he told me that you hate to fly."
I lost my frostiness and smiled genuinely at the older man. Then I slyly remarked, "Well, I suppose that if I could fly like this every time, I might just become a frequent flyer."
This got a big smile out of Ranger, who said, "As soon as RangeMan can afford a company plane like this one, Babe, you'll be the first to know."
A/N: Pfft! So much for having more time to type! Right after I posted the previous chapter, I went away for a long weekend trip to attend my 25th college class reunion, then I went to an out-of-town conference the following weekend, and I've been teaching a variety of classes the rest of the month. My beta, Claire, got a full-time job and she's super-busy now, so I'm flying solo for the time being. Sorry if there are any glaring mistakes. Also, I've added a few more "illustrations" to my flickr photo album. Please let me know what you think. Thanks!