Chapter 37
Not my characters. No Profit.
Carol and Kim, Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the help and excellent advice you gave me for this chapter. It would never have come together without the two of you. Carol, your beta skills are out of this world! Thanks for all your time and attention. You two are, wonderful blessings in my life.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Wow Nineteen will be here tomorrow. I hope we have some reasons to smile. And if not, then thank goodness for Cupcake fanfic!
Readers you are amazing in your support and loyalty. Thanks to you for everything!
I am NOT an expert on writing foreign accents and I apologize in advance, to anyone who might be of Bulgarian descent.
Ranger's POV
Tank watched me strut back and forth in the warden's office of the prison, having been summoned three days before my regularly scheduled visit.
Blowing out aggravated air, I made a fist then let it loose, then made it again. I wanted to kill Blutto right then and there. That would end this impossibly fucked up mess for good!
"Boss, you've got to get a grip."
"I know! How in the hell did Morelli keep from murdering that sleazy son of a bitch the moment he saw these pictures?" I hissed, still dealing with an overload of adrenaline.
"He wanted to, believe me. He did over two hundred push-ups and swore under his breath with each one. But he knows he has to play this carefully. He understands what's at stake. The guys and I respect him tremendously. He's got solid control—and guts." Tank was careful to keep his voice barely above a whisper. "He's a good guy and cop."
"I've always said that!" I snapped defensively, feeling damned responsible for this entire situation.
Morelli and Stephanie would be home together—married—and probably with a couple of babies by now if it hadn't been for me. I shouldn't have poached. What if she never got her happy ending with him because of me? My Karmic debts would never end.
"And it didn't hurt that Blutto is in the infirmary," Tank added, smirking.
"He is? I hope it's a terminal disease."
"I heard it is gout."
I snorted. Wouldn't you know it? He'd probably live to be a hundred!
"How am I going to show her these?" I held up the bulging, manila envelope full of the goddamned pictures. "I have to, you know? This is my fault. We're the ones who should've had the cameras set up this whole time to catch this asshole and whoever the hell is doing his dirty work for him!"
"Too late now," Tank offered pragmatically.
"I've got to go take care of this."
"Ranger?"
"Yeah?"
"How is everything with you and Meg?"
Tank was the only one of my men I'd ever confided in about my personal life. He'd known about my feelings for Stephanie and had sensed my renewed relationship with Meg almost before I had.
"It's new and weird and familiar all at the same time," I admitted.
"You love her," he said simply.
"Yes. I'm no good at this though, Tank. You know me. I'll probably fuck it up."
He frowned. "Give yourself some credit. You'll do fine. Just watch that temper of yours and try to open up to her. You have to let someone in someday—might as well do it sooner than later."
He knew me too well.
"I know. She's perfect for me in many ways. It's just this whole thing—the mission, the stalker, her going back to Slater to become bait. I hate it all!"
"I bet she does too," Tank offered sympathetically.
I sighed. "She feels like a caged animal not being able to go outside or roam freely. Today she was climbing the walls. I thought she was going to hit me with a frying pan when I suggested baking or reading a novel. The accountant left the books with some of his notes for me to go over, and out of desperation, I asked if she'd look for ways to cut our budget." Rolling my eyes, I added, "God knows what we'll be going without once she puts her two cents in."
Tank gave me a look of horror.
"Don't worry—I won't let her take away anything to do with cigars, cars or entertainment. Now I just have to figure out what to distract her with tomorrow." I shook my head. Women were never easy creatures to keep happy.
My best friend's face stopped contorting after my assurances.
"I'll see you soon. I'm afraid this is going to send Stephanie over the edge." Frowning, I cautioned, "Don't repeat that to Morelli. He's got enough to deal with."
"He does. Don't worry, boss—we've got his back. Tell Stephanie 'hello' from us."
Nodding, I took my leave.
Steph's POV
I'd been over the damned files so many times my eyes were burning and bloodshot from too much reading and so little sleep. It'd gotten to where I didn't even want to sleep anymore, because every time I had dreams of Joe. They'd be happy and wonderful at first, but then suddenly we'd be ripped from one another's arms, cruelly separated by walls, or bars or some evil unseen monster that got his jollies by keeping us apart. The wicked laughter would echo in my head long after I'd awakened.
A hard, insistent knock came at the door. Opening the door, I found Ranger staring at me without saying a word.
"You coming in or what?" I asked, stepping back to allow his entrance.
"You've lost a lot a weight," he noted, taking inventory of my appearance. "Are you okay? Your clothes are hanging on you, and you're awfully pale."
I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm fine. Pale could have something to do with not being allowed outside in over a week. As for weight—a girl can always stand to lose a few pounds. I'd think you'd be happy—my body being a temple and all."
"Stephanie, this isn't you getting healthier. I've noticed how little you're eating. Are you feeling sick at all?"
"I'm fine! Get a grip. What brings you here anyway?"
"I—uh—how is the research going?"
"Okay, I guess. I don't know if it's my Spidey sense or what, but I just keep coming back to Blutto. That Bulgarian crime lord is connected to the entire cell phone debacle somehow—I just know it! Do you remember when we investigated him before his arrest? You brought up the research, and it was enough to make the hairs on my back stand on end. Bobby Sunflower kidnapped Vinnie because he'd duped the new partners holding ownership on the Bond's office. Remember how we connected Blutto to the Wellington Corporation and figured out he was behind everything—the Mercer building being bombed and the Bond's office going up in smoke?"
"He's not an easy asshole to forget," Ranger responded dryly.
"His favorite weapon of choice was a chain saw—which was creepy as hell. He was—I can't recall everything. I was just about to pull it up again on the computer to see what I'm forgetting or missing."
Ranger was strangely quiet.
"What's going on? What aren't you telling me?"
Panic hit in a heartbeat.
"Oh my God! Is it Joe? Did something horrible happen?" My hand went over my mouth, as my heart dove to depths beyond anything I'd ever experienced.
"God, no! He's fine. I just came from there." Ranger patted my shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sorry, I never meant to make you think that."
I sat down, holding my hand over my still wildly, palpitating heart. "Shit! Ranger, you scared the crap out of me!"
Ranger's POV
The woman, who'd opened the door to me minutes ago, wasn't completely present on Haywood Street. It wasn't the lost weight or the appearance as much as her essence was divided—made evident by the faraway look in her eyes. Without a doubt, I knew exactly where that missing part of Stephanie had gone.
Guilt flamed over me like a hot branding iron. She'd been right. I had viewed our relationship as a competition with Morelli. I'd been a real jerk to her, and it was time to confess my culpability—not that I'd changed much. But for Stephanie and I to maintain a friendship, I needed to come clean with her. Maybe then it would be easier to confide things to Meg too.
Reluctantly swallowing a mouthful of humble pie, I began, "Stephanie, I have to apologize to you."
"You? Apologize?" Her eyebrows rose quizzically. "For what?"
"For doing exactly what you accused me of."
She seemed to be genuinely clueless. "Refresh my memory."
"You said I'd treated my relationship with you as a competition with Morelli and—after having given it considerable thought—I realized you are correct. I concur with your assessment."
"You concur?" She laughed. "Wow, haven't we gotten formal."
"Do you remember what almost happened between us in my office upstairs the night we looked up Blutto's background?" God, would my past ever stop biting me in the ass?
She blushed. "Why are we going back to that?" Her voice had a distinctive edge to it.
"Because I feel responsible for so much of what is happening right now. I wanted to get you drunk that night and seduce you. If it weren't for the fire at the bond's office, it would've happened."
"I know. But you weren't alone. I was there too, and I'm just as much to blame. I'm not proud of how I treated Joe then—and everything before and after that night too. It wasn't like me to do that to him so callously."
"It was like me. And I regret that my actions have cost you so much. Morellli, too," I added, knowing he deserved some consideration.
"Thank you. It's in the past, Ranger. He forgave me. I should never have done what I did, and it's going to be hard to let go of my guilt for a long time to come. But I'm working on it. The fact that I'm here at Rangeman is proof of how much Joe loves me. I'm not about to forget it ever again."
"I need to say one more thing, and then we can put this to rest."
"Okay."
"The night of the fire—looking back on it, it was one of many times I acted like the mercenary I am. I had you ask him to follow you home. I used him when it was convenient to help take care of you, but dismissed his importance whenever I tried stealing you away."
"It's okay, Ranger. I was aware of what was happening, and I let it happen as much as you did."
"No. It's not okay. He's willing to give his life up for you, and I—I" Scoffing at my stupidity and selfishness, I continued, "I constantly disparaged him and made his love for you seem insignificant when I knew full well he was crazy about you."
She swallowed hard. "I knew it too."
"I just wanted to tell you how much I regret not being honest about everything. My motives were not clear—even to me. I loved you. Never doubt that. I still do as a friend, and always will. But I know now it was unfair of me to string you along when your future has always been meant with him."
"Why are you saying this now?"
"I'm not sure. I just—maybe because now that I have Meg, I realize how it would feel to have someone try to steal her away."
"Thanks for telling me.
"There's something else I've been avoiding, and you need to know about it."
"Shit! Something did happen to Joe?" Her face crumbled as she got to her feet. "How the hell could you keep anything—"
"I swear to you—he's fine. Sit down. It's okay. Everything is going be okay."
"You need to tell me now what the hell is going on," she demanded stubbornly, holding her ground.
"Please—sit down. I promise Joe is fine!"
Stephanie finally sat on the couch, and I took the chair next to her.
"Your instincts about Blutto are dead on as usual. He is definitely the madman behind a shitload of what is happening in that prison."
A little spark returned in her eyes. "That's good, right?" she asked eagerly. "I just have to go back and figure out what the connections are."
God, I hated this!
"You do—yes, but first—" I lowered my head, and then raised my eyes to connect with hers. "Hector searched his cell. He has pictures of you."
"Why me?" she asked, puzzled. "What kind of pictures?"
Stephanie's innate curiosity was on overload and her pitch heightened from the added stress. "Where did he get them?"
"The kind of pictures no woman would want a demented convict to have."
"But how? I never posed for any—"
"Someone cameras rigged in your apartment. My men went over it with a fine toothcomb. They're gone now, but they found evidence they were there. Judging from how many there were and the time frame they encompassed, Blutto had them installed for quite a while."
"That sleazebag has been stalking me from prison?" She jumped up, both hands balled into fists. "What the fuck! What the hell does he want with me? Who helped him do it?"
Her eyes were on fire; furious that her privacy had been desecrated, and I made up my mind she was not going to see those pictures. It was bad enough she knew they'd been taken. I couldn't cause her further humiliation.
Steph's POV
"I want to see them."
"No—you don't!" Ranger shook his head negatively.
"I'm going to see those pictures. I have a right to know what I'm up against, Ranger. It was MY privacy invaded!"
It hit me that Joe had seen them already. God, what had that done to him?
Mortified, I had to know. "Did Joe see them?" How would he ever look at me the same way, knowing that demented bastard in prison had seen me naked?
Ranger looked at me steadily. "He had to Stephanie. He's got to know what he's up against too."
"You're not telling me the truth. He'd go crazy! Did he kill Blutto? He'd sure as hell want to."
"No. You and I both know Morelli is a better man and cop than that. He'll bide his time and play this smart. He knows what's at stake. If anything, I'm sure this has just increased his resolve to make the son of a bitch pay more."
Pacing, I fretted, "God! I'm so worried about him. And now I'm really afraid he'll get hurt. He's got to be so angry."
I needed to see the pictures and face this monster's torment head on. Why the hell was Ranger keeping them from me?
"I promise we'll get him and the asshole who is helping him. Are you going to be okay?"
"I will be—once I see those pictures."
"Morelli specifically asked me through Tank not to show them to you."
"No, he didn't!" I snapped. "He promised I'd be left out of nothing, and he'd never break that promise. You're a horrible liar, Ranger. And don't you dare use my vulnerability where Joe is concerned to manipulate me into letting this go! Now you get me those fucking pictures, or I'll scratch Meg's eyes out the next time I see her. No more Ms. Phony Polite for you, Joe or her!"
He narrowed his eyes warningly. "You think blackmail will work on me?"
My gaze shot a bullet right through him. "You know I can handle it. I need to see what he captured on film. Otherwise, I'll be imagining way worse than what it is."
Suddenly, it hit me why he was being so uncooperative, and my heart sank deeper.
"Tell me the truth. Did he get Morelli and me in bed—or—oh God—NO!" My hand shot over my mouth in humiliation and lingering guilt. "For the love of God! Tell me it's not you and me. If Joe had to see that—omigod—is that why you brought our past up—?"
"No!" he interrupted quickly. "Only of you alone. You're right—you need to see them." Nodding in resignation, he opened his jacket to produce the dastardly photos.
Sitting down, I took the over-stuffed envelope he offered and slowly opened it, dreading what I was about to experience.
As I gazed over the sordid assortment of candid shots, it felt as though my entire being had been truly invaded—almost as if I'd been raped. There I was in all my naked glory, thinking I'd had been alone in the privacy of my home. My hands shook, as my eyes filled with enraged tears.
"That fucking bastard—I'm going get him. I won't leave one fucking stone unturned. Between Morelli and me, he'll be damned sorry he tangled with us!"
All the photos fell like a deck of playing cards, tumbling from my hands as I stared, completely appalled by the last one. I had no idea that moment had been captured on film. Immediately I was mentally returned to the dire predicament I'd been in at the time—surrounded by the most diabolically scary gang members imaginable. My death had most certainly been imminent, and the memory brought back the trembling uncertainty I'd felt then.
"Freaking hell, how did he get this?" My quaking hand held it up to show Ranger, knowing full well he'd already seen it.
"He must have a connection to someone from the Slayers or another gang who now has a former Slayer in its membership."
"I can't believe it! Do you think the stalker is a gang member?"
"Could be. We won't know a lot more until Blutto is released from the infirmary."
"Why is he there? Did someone beat him up? If it wasn't Joe, was it Tank or—"
"Apparently he had a bout of bad gout."
"Good! I hope he rots with it!"
"Me too." His eyes examined me, full of concern "Do you need a woman to talk—"
"Don't you dare sic Meg on me again!" I popped back up. Standing with my back against the wall, I combed my hand through my hair.
"She only wants to help you."
"Does she know about these? Has she seen them?" Panic I'd never experienced before infested me. It felt like my whole life had been ripped open for everyone to see. The last thing I needed was for Meg to witness it too.
"No, not yet. I thought I should tell you about them first."
"Please don't show them to her."
"Stephanie, she'sanFBI operative on this case. She will see those photos. It's her job to know everything that's going on. She was attacked too, remember? She won't think less of you."
"Okay, fine. But no one else! And I don't want her coming down here to give me some phony ass shoulder to cry on again either!"
"She wasn't doing that."
"Save it! Look Ranger—knowing my private life is on display to a lowlife, seedy criminal is the last straw for me. I have enough on my plate, and—"
He held up his hand to stop my worries. "I understand. No one will approach you about them—I promise."
"Thanks. I need to keep this as quiet as possible. The fewer people—" I shook my head in denial, placing my fingers over my throbbing temples. "Who the hell am I kidding? That entire prison full of reprobates could have copies of them by now."
My voice broke. "I c—can't believe it. With this happening, my stalker could be anybody. How in the hell will we ever find out who it is?"
"We'll get to the bottom of this, and the bastard will pay."
He walked over and gave me a short, comforting hug.
I forced a wan smile. "Thanks for coming straight to me with this."
"I wouldn't have wanted it to come from anyone but me."
"It feels like I'm going to be in hiding here forever."
"No. Once Morelli makes mincemeat of Blutto, you'll be exactly where you want to be—with him."
"You really believe that, Ranger? I need someone to believe it, because it feels like it might never happen right now." I couldn't hide the dejection overwhelming me. Not even a week, and already it felt like it'd been years.
"I do. I'll make it happen," he promised.
"If only you could."
Joe's POV
I'd heard through the prison buzzards that Blutto would be returning to his cell today. I was so ready to meet up with that villainous piece of shit. Inside, I wanted to make dust out of him and bury him. But he was going to be clueless about that. I had bigger and better plans for him. The evil bastard wasn't going to know what hit him when the tables were turned. I'd let him think he had me like a pawn in the palm of his hand, but I'd be the one squeezing the life out of his warped and blackened, double-bypassed heart.
Checkmate.
Ranger had been to see Tank yesterday with copies of the photos. He'd probably showed them to Stephanie by now. I could only imagine how violated she'd be feeling. Wishing like hell I could see her for just a minute or two to comfort her, it killed me not to be there when she needed me most. The best I could do was our nightly nine o'clock messages. I hoped with all my heart she had gotten the one I'd sent her last night.
"Hey Cupcake. I miss the hell out of you. I don't want you to worry your beautiful curly head over this. I'll get him, Steph. He'll be fucking sorry he so much as glanced your way. Don't let him take anything from you. Trust me, baby—it doesn't diminish your worth a notch in my eyes. No one will ever come near you or hurt you as long as I'm breathing. Thinking of you every day is the only true escape from this place I allow myself. Those moments are heaven for me. Our time together was something I'll never forget. Memories of it keep me warm and sane. I love you beyond imagination. Try not to worry so much about me." Always Morelli.
I wasn't about to transmit anything sexually suggestive because of the damned photos. I didn't want her feeling cheapened in any way. She meant so much more than that to me.
Smiling wide, I'd picked up her thoughts—always my brave, tough but sweet to the core Cupcake.
"Morelli, I know you're fit to be tied over those damned pictures. But you listen to me. Don't you dare do anything crazy. I don't give a shit what that slimy snake has in his possession. He will never come near me. I know you'll get him when he least expects it. The only thing I want or need—is you. You hear me, tough guy? No big heroics. Get that beautiful ass home where it belongs. I promise I'll work day and night to make it happen. You better be ready when you come back, because have I ever got plans for you! You'll be in all my dreams. Love you," Stephanie.
We were back in synch at least, and it felt amazingly good.
The guard at breakfast showed sudden concern about a cut on my arm and insisted I go to the infirmary to have it looked at. I'd gotten it from a jagged nail jutting out from some shelves in the cleaning supply room. Assuring him I was fine, he was oddly insistent. When Tank started to get up off his chair, I signaled him surreptitiously to stay put. There was more to this, but what exactly, I wasn't sure.
Making our way down the hall toward my medical checkup, a gigantic man suddenly filled the entire corridor. He was talking to a guard behind him, as if they were long lost buddies. Shuffling noisily, his feet scraping on the floor, he was barely able to lift one leg after the other.
Sounding like the Godfather with a Bulgarian accent, his body was akin to Jabba the Hutt—resembling a giant, slimy slug. His face was bluish in color, and his neck began to flush red the moment his fiendish black eyes met mine.
Fuck.
This was going to be next to impossible!
Wanting to smash his sanctimonious face in until my hand met the back of his head, I envisioned a deformed, flattened monster as my end result. But I had to maintain my emotionless persona and make sure he couldn't read anything in my body language.
Payday was coming. I consoled myself with that and forced a huge, welcoming grin.
"Blutto! Just the man I was hoping to see!"
He did a double-take.
Good. He'd be doing a LOT of those before I was through.
I wanted him so screwed around he'd never see the pointblank range missile heading right between his eyes! It was only a matter of time before it happened, and he'd be sorry he ever laid eyes on me. More importantly, if he lived, he'd regret having given Stephanie a mere thought.
"I've been wanting to talk to you, Morelli. You need my protection here. You have big following of criminals loving to put you six feet under for putting them in jail."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, is so," he huffed, "and dose people with vendetta against you have NOTHING on me."
"What did I ever do to you?"
"You were there when I arrested. That enough. But add to that, I juz don't like you."
"Why? You don't even know me."
"Oh, but I know where you been, and who you been with." His spine-chilling smile was creepy and sickening.
The hair on my arms rose. The way he'd said it left no doubt about the subject of his disdain.
"Speak English. What the hell are you talking about?"
"Stephanie Plum."
I let out a harsh, dumbfounded laugh. "Are you kidding me? That was what I like to refer to as my 'stupid ass period'. I'm so over that bitch." I held up my hand, showing off the gold band on my left ring finger. "I'm married now—and thankfully not to that whore."
I silently prayed Stephanie would never know the things I'd been forced to say about her.
He snickered. "You were wit her ze long time."
"Yeah? Well, I didn't know what a cheating liar she was then, did I?" I pasted on a self-disgusted frown.
"She kicked you in balls, huh? That's what I know she be like. A woman whose flagrant disobedience needs disciplined, ferocious taming." His eyes gleamed. "I'm man to do it."
It was all I could do not to kill him with my bare hands—right then and there.
"Good luck—she was, without a doubt, the worst mistake of my life!"
Blutto's toothy grin, filled with dental silver, widened. "Good. Then we see eye to eye on her."
"Why in the fuck are you wasting my time talking about her?"
"I vanted to make sure you not harboring—how you say—residual feelings."
"I snorted. "Have you seen my wife? I have all I can handle dealing with her. She's a spitfire and way better in the sack than that Plum psycho ever dreamed of being!"
Forgive me, Cupcake.
"I'd like to meet your wife."
"Why?" I tensed up, letting him think it rattled me he wanted to see Kate. "What could you possibly want with her?"
"Do you have picture?" he asked, his mouth nearly salivating.
"Yeah."
"Well show me! Don't you vant to brag to Blutto bout your bride?" He coaxed like a hissing snake.
I pulled it out of my back pocket. He whistled, but it sounded whispery from shortness of breath. His eyes dilated blacker.
"Hot. Spicy."
The way he fought for every breath, I'd be surprised if Blutto lived another year. If only he'd keel over that very second! I never wanted to see anyone dead that badly in my life.
"Sorry to say, she's out of town right now. She's somewhat pissed at me for landing in jail. Women!" I groused, showing revulsion.
"That kind iz high maintenance. I know—I had four wives." He held up four fat stubby fingers. "All needed too much."
"She's a big reason why I'm here. Do you think I could have landed that sexy body on a cop's salary?"
He laughed before coughing his guts out.
"Yez, your new life of crimes—another topic we discuss," he wheezed.
"What the fuck does that have to do with you?"
"Ways I see it," he said in a gruff low voice, "you can be beaten or you can be joined."
I laughed mockingly over his mangled attempt at English.
"Maybe I over-estimated your desires to live. Maybe if you don't show me respect I deserve, I let circling vultures have your traitorous carcass."
"Your call."
I could play egomaniac eccentric with the best of them. After all, hadn't I had Manoso as my perfect example all those years?
"You don't put great deal of value on your life."
My eyes flashed insolence. "I don't put a great deal of importance on your delusions of controlling me."
His laughter was a hoarse gasp. "You got guts. I give you that."
"More than you know," I agreed, smiling wickedly.
He was going to find out just how gutsy I was.
"We need to have little talk."
"I thought we just did."
"Private like," he informed me, crooking his neck to send the guards off in separate directions.
Grabbing my arms, he pushed me into an office, barely sliding through the door sideways. He shut it hard and locked it. Had he been this big when we arrested him at the house of terrors in Pennsylvania?
He pointed to a chair, and I sat with my back slouched and ankles crossed, as though I was about to watch my favorite sporting event.
"You know we have things common."
"We do?"
"Yeah, I used to be cop in Varna Bulgaria—put fifteen years there. Wanted more life—just like you."
"You are nothing like me," I sneered with attitude.
"You right. I wasn't so dumb I got caught!"
My eyes narrowed, but I remained silent.
"I ask you questions." His throat seemed clogged causing his words to come out sounding nasally.
"What kind of questions?"
"I want to hear. What she like to fuck?"
Oh Shit.
Keep your cool. Don't do what you're fantasizing right now. No looks. NO emotion. DON'T GIVE IT AWAY! THIS IS STEPHANIE'S LIFE IN THE BALANCE!
"What woman are you talking about? My wife? I've fucked a lot of 'em, you know. Terri Gilman?"
"No. Ms. Plum."
"I thought we already discussed this. I'm married. I have no interest in that cheating slut."
"You did though, long time. I know this thing. I decide she worth my attentions now. She's deceptively ordinary, but when those beeg blue eyes of hers flashed me in kitchen the day I arrested, I got hard on not had in years. Need to know. Tell me what it's like be on top of her and—"
I snorted. "God, you sure as hell know how to pick 'em!" She is ordinary with a capital O!"
"You lying. You with her for years."
"Why would I lie? I was crazy to ever think she was worth a moment of my time. She's a lying, two faced—"
"Why should I believe you? What she do to make you turning on her?"
"She couldn't be faithful if her life depended on it—just like every other woman I've ever been with. She was off having sex with her boss, and when I found out, I wanted to kill her. NO woman cheats on Joe Morelli! But she sure as hell did—in every alley she could find with that demented asshole. You're crazy if you get yourself tangled with her. She's a nut case." I hit my fist hard on my leg for emphasis.
"I hear her cars—they go smoking?" he grunted, somewhat amused.
"Yeah—and her apartment too. Bounty Hunting!" I grumbled. "More like garbage collecting—literally. I pulled her out of more shit than I want to tell you. Why the hell are you so interested in her anyway?" I asked, as though he was just asking for trouble.
His eyes narrowed to shiny slits, weighing the intent of my question.
"I find me intrigued by her. You know, she took money from Bobby Sunflower—his own money! He sweating he could not pay me and kidnapped Vinnie Plum to get ransom. That woman was shittin' resourceful to find money to get Vinnie out by stealing under Sunflower's nose. Be damned if little witch didn't pay his own money to him."
Blutto made the crazy gesture. "He had no clue. Moron! He twist in wind over it. I no tell. Got money he owed. How didn't matter. Tenacity of bitch thrilled me!"
His cackling laughter, followed by long heaves of lost breath, made my stomach turn to pure acid. Everything in me wanted this bogus charade to end. I wanted to fucking kill him.
"She isn't that smart—trust me!" I scoffed, wishing I could twist his thick neck and leave his bulgy eyes gaping open for eternity.
"Hard to do with circumstances. You not honorable or smart. Crooked cop got caught."
My tone was steely. "Don't underestimate me. You think Plum is smart? You have no idea what I'm capable of."
"That so?"
"I'll make you the Crime LORD of New Jersey—hell, the whole United States. The other kingpins will be bowing down to you. I've got connections and inside information you've only dreamed of," I boasted cockily.
"More crooked cops on force?" he mused.
"You want things from me. I want a piece of the action. I could be of great value to you. Together we'd make a formidable team."
"Not interested in partner, Morelli. If work for me—you not equal. First must decide if I allow you to live. You've got proving coming. No one gets to work with me easily. There's initiation period."
"What do you want?"
"I want more Stephanie."
"I don't know anything more. I tell you she was a mistake—I've moved on. Why? Are you thinking of recruiting her as one of your assets?"
"Something like. I've got plans to her." He hacked on his words.
"From prison?"
"I have ways, Morelli."
Over my dead body, you deluded excuse for a cockroach!
"If you want protection, Morelli, you're going to earn it."
"What makes you think I want YOUR protection?"
"If you don't, you be dead—soon."
"You're threatening me?"
"Promising. Stay on bad side, my promises become reality—fast!"
"You have plans for me?"
"That revealed in time."
"When?"
"Conversation over."
He got up and waddled to the door. Unlocking it, he disappeared from sight. As if on cue, my guard reappeared, taking my elbow and leading me to the medical clinic. I made a mental note to inform our agent in the warden's office of the two guards obviously on Blutto's payroll. They needed to be watched—closely.
Steph's POV
Three weeks had passed since Ranger had shown me the photos. From his subsequent visits to the prison, I knew so far Joe had not been hurt any further. Apparently, even the most hard-nosed criminals were intimidated by the Merry Men and their iron fists.
Thank God.
Every day I forced myself to go to the seventh floor for lunch—and dinner most evenings. So far Meg and I had maintained civility.
That night, waiting to be let in for the evening routine, I felt my nerves particularly on edge. Being incarcerated at Rangeman was a prison all its own. I wasn't the type of person to sit on my hands doing nothing. I LOVED my freedom. I missed the simple joy of buying myself a cup of coffee and a donut or shooting the breeze with the girls at the bonds office. I liked to go where the day took me. Only I wasn't allowed to go anywhere. I had almost no free will.
The only good thing was the fact I was five days late. I didn't dare place too much expectation on it, as my emotions were all over the place. It could just as easily be stress. But Five days! Funny, I'd been five days late after the first time Joe and I made love at the Tasty Pastry too. I hadn't been pregnant then, and I knew there was a chance I might not be now either. But, oh God, I was praying for it. I wanted it to be true—desperately.
The door swung open to show Meg wearing a revealing blue jersey dress. It made me look like a bag lady in my jeans and v-necked shirt. My hair needed washing, and my face had seen better days. Up until then, we'd maintained a tentative truce, but seeing her looking so rested and like a damned model in that dress made me feel inferior and ugly and more on edge than ever.
"Going out?" I asked facetiously.
"Oh. Uh—God—I wish, but no! Stephanie, I just had Ella take a tray down to you. I hope you don't mind. Ranger's been so busy lately. We've hardly had any time alone together. I thought we'd uh—"
Ranger suddenly appeared behind me in the doorway. "Stephanie is more than welcome to join us, Meg."
"Of—of course I just thought—"
"You thought wrong. She's my guest. I want her to join us any time she chooses." He took my hand, pulling me into the apartment.
Shit! There was trouble in paradise already, and the last thing I wanted or needed was to be stuck in the middle of it.
"I thought since I was going back to Slater next week you might want to have dinner alone—at least for one night." Meg's face had turned crimson, and I knew she was angry by the phony smile pasted on her face.
"We'll have time later."
"Why don't you just enjoy your dinner with Stephanie. I've lost my appetite." She turned on her five inch FMP's and disappeared into their bedroom. The door slamming loudly made the tension rise even further.
"Look, Ranger—Meg's right. You two need some time—obviously. I'm fine with eating in my apartment."
"She was out of line!" he barked.
"No, she wasn't. A woman wanting time alone with the man she loves is natural. I don't blame her." I said, suddenly feeling even more a third wheel than before. "If Joe were here, I'd kick you out too." I smiled a little at that certainty.
"I know you miss him," he acknowledged.
"And you're going to miss her. She's putting her life on the line too, Ranger."
"Don't remind me."
"You need to fix this, and I'm getting really hungry. So have your evening, and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Thanks. I suck at this."
"You'll get it right. You just have to put yourself in her shoes a little."
"If I wore those shoes, I'd be the laughing stock of Trenton," he joked, sighing deeply.
"Goodnight, Ranger."
"Goodnight."
Meg's POV
Grabbing my suitcase from the closet, I began to pull a stack of sweaters from his closet.
I felt ridiculous. Why stay there one more day? Slater house was empty and waiting. What was a few days early?
The handle on the door turned as I tossed the clothing into the suitcase. Ranger immediately winced, eying it and the tears pouring down my cheeks.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I'm moving back to Slater tonight."
He was across the room in two steps, grabbing the sweaters from the suitcase and throwing them back into the closet.
"No!" his voice boomed. "You'll go when I say you go."
"What the hell—are you some kind of caveman? You decide everything and order me to comply? I don't think so, buddy!" Pulling the sweaters back out, I threw them harder into the suitcase.
With one hand, he swiped the suitcase off the bed, my things flying all over as it crashed to the floor.
"You can't stop me, Carlos."
I could see he was furious by the set of his jaw.
Good.
I was too.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? It's NOT time for you to leave, and I'll be damned if you're going to go while you're this angry with me!"
"Do you even have a clue as to why I'm angry?" I asked, backing up against the wall.
"No—I'm guessing it's about Stephanie, and us not having private time for dinner."
"You're such an idiot!"
"It's not about dinner?"
"No, you—yes, it's about that—and a shitload of other things too!"
Ranger's POV
I folded my arms across my chest. "Okay then—let's go eat the damned dinner."
"You have got to be kidding me? I tell you many things are wrong in our relationship, and this is your reaction?" Her voice grew higher and more strained. She was no closer to changing her mind about leaving.
"Fine, Meg—tell me everything I'm doing wrong." I admit it didn't come out sincerely, but who could blame me? With women it was usually more than I wanted to know.
"Forget it!" She resumed pulling her clothing off the hangers.
Shit!
Tank's words echoed in my head—'hold your temper', and then Steph's more recent advice, 'put yourself in her shoes'. Both helped me take a breath.
I placed my hand gently on her back. "I want to know what I'm doing to upset you."
"Where do I begin?" she asked, her green eyes accusing me of God only knew what.
"That much, huh?"
"You're the one who asked me to look at your books and trim the budget."
"I did, and you never said a word to me about it afterward."
"When have we had time to talk, Carlos? You disappear the minute you wake up and don't come back until mealtime. Afterward, you evaporate like smoke again. It's been this way since you showed Stephanie those pictures. You're either working or down there with her every single night!"
"I haven't been—"
"Yes, you sure as hell have!" she sniped at me.
"I'm worried about her."
"Oh, I know! I saw how much worry you've poured into her over the last four years!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you've blown your budget consistently over her. Do you know how many hundreds of thousands of dollars you've given her to blow up? The surveillance cost alone is astronomical. Paying your men to watch her and track her and—"
"I know. Okay? I know! I probably went a little overboard, but she wasn't doing too well on her own—"
"Are you still in love with her? You need to be honest with me, Carlos." Her eyes clouded, and I could see her pain.
"I love you. I don't know how many more times or more ways you want me to say it than I already have," I responded with frustration.
"It might be easier to believe if you hadn't murmured her name in your sleep repeatedly last night!" she accused.
"I didn't do that."
"You did!"
"I did?" My mouth fell open. My lack of disclosure with Meg had resulted in me exposing my inner most thoughts in a very hurtful way. "It's not the reason you're thinking."
"Tell me then."
I shook my head, wishing I could shake the damned responsibility I still felt.
"Guilt—it's been eating away at me! Can you believe it? Me—the big, heartless mercenary—having a bout of conscience about—?"
"Keeping her from, Joe." Meg finished my sentence perfectly. She really knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.
"Yes."
"Join the club. Been there—done that."
"When I saw those pictures of her, I felt horrible. All the protecting I've tried to do, and somehow that got by me."
"Go on," Meg encouraged, sitting on the bed. She still had her socks between her hands.
I took the seat facing her. "None of this should be happening now. She should've married Morelli a long time ago. I knew he was it for her, and I behaved very selfishly. She accused me of it the first morning she arrived here, and she was right. It was a game. I spent money, gave her cars, my men's protection. And I did all of it, thinking I could stop her from loving him—never intending to make what we had permanent."
"You did love her."
"Yes, but I pulled out all the stops determined to win. I could never offer her the life he could—the life she really wanted. I was mostly aware of what I was doing when I tore her away from him." I was embarrassed to admit it, but Meg needed to fully realize what she was in for too.
I smiled sadly. "Do you even want me, Meg? I'm not good at long term anything. It might take all night for you to go down the list of faults you're finding—after being with me a short time."
Her eyes softened. "I love you, Carlos, and the last thing I want to do is leave you—even to go to Slater for a little while. But I'm not sure you want the same thing. Maybe this is too much for you, too soon."
"It's not." I said the words, but inside I wondered the same thing.
"You can bail out. It hasn't gone too far, and nothing between us is etched in stone. It's okay, Carlos. I'll understand." Tears were pooling in her eyes.
"I don't want to lose you, Cobre." I didn't! The mere idea of it was enough to twist my guts.
"You're not sure. I can see the doubt in your eyes." She saw through me so easily.
"Give me another chance. I never meant to hurt you by murmuring Stephanie's name in my sleep. I am trying to make up for my past mistakes without banishing myself from having a life. I can't change overnight."
"I'm not asking you to."
"I promise after this whole thing is over. You and I will have some time—lots of time. Alone. You'll be my number one priority, and Stephanie will not require anything more from me than friendship. Can you live with that?"
"I know you want to be—"
My finger shushed her, while my other hand cupped her face. "Stay with me."
"I'll stay, but I'm not promising anything. We'll see how it goes tomorrow."
"I hope to win you over with what goes on tonight. Do you know how much I want to throw you on that bed and have my way with you?"
"Throw me anywhere, Carlos, and you'll be hanging out a seventh story window."
I laughed, revising my vision. "Gently lie you on the bed and make mad passionate love all night?"
"Now you're talking." She laughed softly, as I pulled her into my arms, kissing her voraciously and leaving no doubt she was first and last in my heart.
Joe's POV
Walking the prison yard on our ten-minute jaunt wasn't so bad. We had sunshine and blue skies. God, I'd never take a simple thing like breathing in fresh air for granted again as long as I lived.
I hadn't heard anything more from Blutto since our initial meeting. He frequently caught my eye though, as if constantly evaluating my worth to him. He had a myriad of sordid prison riff-raff at this command, giving the Merry Men and me more than enough to keep watch over.
My thoughts were interrupted when someone insistently tapped on my shoulder.
"Hey—you're Joe, right?"
Turning, I found a wiry, older man in his seventies, with graying hair and multiple wrinkles looking up at me as if I were a giant. At five foot four inches, I had to crook my neck downward to look into his face. He gazed at me expectantly through black horn-rimmed glasses; barely managing to stay perched on his birdlike nose.
"Who wants to know?"
"Thaddeus Peabody, at your service," he replied eagerly, grabbing my right hand and pumping it up and down enthusiastically.
"What do you want, Thaddeus?" I asked warily.
"Oh, you can call me Tad. Everyone calls me Tad." He looked back behind him suspiciously as though being watched and changed his tone to an almost inaudible whisper. "I don't like Thad. It's too close to thug. You know, I'm not really—a thug, I mean."
"Uh—what are you in for?" I asked, although I already knew. Like the rest of the prisoner's, I'd read his file.
"You mean what I'm in for, but am not guilty of!" He replied, sounding like squawking chicken.
What the hell did he want? "What were you arrested for?" I clarified impatiently.
"Grand theft and—uh—accessory to murder."
"Those are big crimes."
"Yeah, I know, but I didn't do it, I tell you—NOT even a little bit! Do you have any idea what it's like to be put away for years for crimes you didn't even commit? No one will listen! The DNA evidence is too strong." He put his hand to his lips, giggling like a school girl. "Of course you know—you're in here under false pretenses too."
My nerves went rigid. Did I know what it was like? He had to be kidding. Was this a joke? Had the Merry Men put him up to it? If he told anyone I was only posing as crooked cop—
I stared at him more closely. He had a crazy, glazed look in his eyes and a nervous, speedy speech that indicated he was a bit of a loony tune. Taking a deep breath, I wondered why the guy was singling me out? What did he think a crooked cop could do for him?
"What in the name of God makes you think I'd want to do anything for you?"
"Duh! Who else? You're a cop, right?"
"I'm a former cop. I'm in here for embezzling funds and divulging confidential information. Do I look like I give a shit what you need?"
Looking over my shoulder, he whispered, "I don't believe you're guilty for a minute!"
Shit! Just what I needed—some crazy, male version of Grandma Bella about to blow my cover!
Taking the little man by his elbow, I pulled him to the side of the brick wall. "What the fuck are you getting at?"
He cringed. "Nothing! I didn't mean nothing by it."
I felt like a jackass, but knew I had to maintain my cover. He was obviously not as crazy as he looked. He stared around me, as though seeing something there, and I resisted the urge to look myself over.
"I see auras around people, and I sense you're a good man. Most auras in this place are pretty ugly. There are some men who are NOT supposed to be here, besides me. Your aura and those of the big guys always around you are pretty clean. I think you're all here under false pretenses."
"I have no idea what you see, buddy, but trust me—I'm not a good guy and those Neanderthals have been beating on me since I got here. They're the worst degenerates ever."
"Fine. You're not innocent, but I am. I haven't ever done a thing wrong in my whole life—not even a traffic ticket. I tell you, I'm cleaner than my mother's floors! God rest her soul."
Some part of me felt for the old guy. But why? For some reason my cop instincts told me he was telling me the truth, which was just what I needed—some impossible task of trying to prove his innocence. Didn't I already have enough on my agenda?
I shook my head. "Okay, Tad, tell me. Who did commit those crimes, if you didn't?"
"Oh that's easy. My twin brother, Leviticus Peabody!"
"Well, hell—why didn't I think of that?" I slapped my forehead, mocking him. "You have an evil twin that perpetrated the crimes, and you took the wrap for him."
"I swear!" He yanked a photograph, from his jacket pocket and shoved it in my face. It was black and white, but there was no mistaking the truth. Two identical twin boys. Shit!
"Okay, so you have a twin brother," I relented.
"I knew you'd believe me!"
I gave him a speculative look. "Why would your brother allow you to pay for crimes you didn't commit? Is he really that much of a heartless bastard?"
"Yep, he is heartless. He's also body-less."
"Excuse me?"
"He died two months ago."
"Oh. Uh—Sorry."
"Thanks. I never saw him again. Never got to say goodbye." His wizened eyes got watery.
"And he never confessed he was the culprit?" I asked, wondering once again if any of this was even true.
"Nope. He couldn't very well do that since a train mowed him down in Poughkeepsie. I'm pretty sure there wasn't any talking after that happened." His eyes implored me to listen, and the hump on his aging back sharpened. "I loved my brother, but he was what you'd call the 'black sheep' in the family."
Crap—I had two black sheep in my family. Wouldn't you know we'd have something in common?
"How did you get arrested, and he get off scot free? Didn't you tell your attorney he was the one the police should pursue?"
"He ran the moment I got arrested. We never found him until he was flat as a pancake. I guess they matched his dental records and a fingerprint or two—if he had any left after the train got him."
Our time in the yard was over.
"I'll see you, Joe. I just know you're going to help me," he whispered.
I wanted to shout back that I wasn't there to save him. But a part of me knew I'd do whatever I could for the little odd man. The last thing I needed was one innocent person being stuck in that hellhole on my conscience. If he was telling me the truth, I had to get him out of there.
Steph's POV
Writhing on the floor of the bathroom, I grimaced at the sharp and stabbing pains that had gripped me for over an hour. They'd started as dull and achy earlier in the afternoon and had progressively worsened throughout the evening.
Someone pounded hard on the apartment door. "Stephanie open up! Answer me!"
It was Hal, bringing Bob back after having taken him up for a long run in the park.
I tried to yell back, but just then the cramping grew even more severe, and my voice choked with the gravity of it.
It didn't help I'd left the TV on in the living room.
Getting up wasn't an option. If I did, the pains might worsen further. God, I'd never been so scared in my life!
The insistent pounding on the door got louder, and Ranger's bellowing voice added to the mix.
"Stephanie, if you don't open the goddamned door now, we're breaking it down!"
"No! Don't—there's a key in the—"
Too late.
The sound of splintering wood was deafening, followed by urgent footsteps hitting the tile floor. Bob beat them both, running to my side and whining softly before lying on the floor with his head on my knee.
"I'm in the bathroom" I screamed out, relieved they were there. Both men came screeching to a stop in the doorway.
"What the hell are you doing on the floor? Did you fall?" Ranger asked, entering quickly and reaching out to help me up. Bob instantly stood at attention, blocking access to me.
I jerked back. "No, I can't move. Get away from me!" If I was indeed pregnant, I could be losing the baby—Joe's baby. I had to do everything in my power to stop it from happening.
Forcing the panic in my throat back, I said, "I'm sorry. I know you want to help me, but you can't. I—I need—a woman."
"Ella has the evening off. She went to visit her sister. I'll call her back," Ranger offered.
"No!" I shook my head tearfully, denying his solution. "I need M-Meg. Please get her."
My eyes met Ranger's.
"Hurry."