Chapter Twelve

Stephanie thought it was probably a bad idea as she pulled into the parking lot of the warehouse. Then again it wasn't like she been the bastion for good ideas lately, so really what was one more to add to the list. At least this one wouldn't end up with her on the Burg gossip tree. Probably.

Stephanie got out and picked her way across the vacant parking lot. She was beginning to think wearing those new shoes was not such a brilliant idea. She could already feel them rubbing her heel and pinching her toes. She dodged broken glass, used needles, and something she really didn't want to think too much about as she climbed the crumbling cement stairs of the loading dock.

The first roller door was still locked so she tried the second one. It was locked tool. That was weird. She would have sworn she left it unlocked. She went to the third and gave it a hard yank. Nothing.

Stephanie picked her way back down the stairs to the side door. She twisted the knob and was surprised to find the door was unlocked. She pushed the door open and poked her head inside, letting her eyes adjust to the dim lighting. Little dust particles were shimmering and floating in the dim sunlight coming through the grimy windows. Almost like someone had recently been through this area and kicked up the dust as they made their way across the room. Apprehension dogged each step as she moved farther into the open space.

It was probably just the vendor. The space was supposed to be occupied she told herself as her spidey sense started vibrating. As she moved closer to the office, she could hear a mechanical grinding, whirring sound that would stop and start. Stephanie hesitated for a minute and strained to listen, trying to place the sound. She edged a little closer and peeked around the corner.

Inside the officer were two men in suits. One looked an awful lot like a fire plug with a blond buzz cut. The other had a body like a boneless ferret. He had slicked back dark hair and wing tipped shoes that were propped up on the desk where he was sitting. He reminded her of a lot of Vinnie. The file drawers were open, and papers were strewn about. The boneless ferret was flipping through files and the fire plug was shredding them.

You didn't live in New Jersey and not know what a made man looked like. These two could be poster boys. Fear fluttered in her stomach. The accounting discrepancies, the obviously fake vendors, and two mafia guys shredding documents did not add up to a good outcome.

Stephanie pulled out her phone and snapped a couple of pictures. Her mind was spinning in a thousand directions at once. She needed to talk to Raymond, he needed to know what she had found. Probably get the authorities involved. They needed to figure out a plan, preferably one that didn't take the company under or get anyone killed. Unease slithered through her. Or anyone else killed. How exactly did you extract yourself from the mob?

Stephanie had a bad feeling Brian Fry's car accident might not have been so accidental. Fry had probably been laundering money for the mob, and that put everybody including the company at risk. Something had clearly gone wrong. Fry got cold feet or got greedy. Either way, she would bet money Fry had been murdered.

With Fry gone and her in the job, it was possible the mob would be coming after her next. Maybe that is why the black SUV had been following her this morning. They would approach her and pressure her into cooperating. They were going to need someone on the inside to replace Fry. Someone that could set up new vendors and place orders. That was a pretty small list.

She briefly wondered if Raymond was in on it. But like her, Raymond was pretty new to the job. The accounting issues she had discovered predated Raymond. Talking to Raymond would be a gamble. Maybe it was better to just press around the edges, see what he had to say. Try and figure out if he knew anything. Raymond was the one that had ordered her to put the vendors in the system. Stephanie wasn't sure she could totally trust him.

Stephanie took a deep breath. As much as she hated to, she also needed to tell Morelli. He was a cop. He'd know what to do. He might be for shit as a boyfriend, but Morelli was a good cop, and she trusted him when it came to his job. It was just everything else that was a mess. Morelli cared about her, maybe he even loved her. He might not be husband material, and that was fine, but he was her best bet on this.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her legs felt weak. She needed to get out of here and fast. The longer she stayed, the more likely it was something was going to go sideways. The last thing she needed to do was get caught in a vacant warehouse snooping around. She probably wouldn't even warrant a fiery car accident; she'd probably just get a bullet to the brain. And that was if she was lucky. An involuntary shiver went down her spine.

Her legs felt like jelly, but she forced herself to move. Stephanie began backing up keeping her eyes glued on the office. She knocked into a wooden crate. The scraping sound seemed to echo throughout the empty warehouse.

Shit, she thought as she pressed her eyes closed and willed herself to breath. Maybe they didn't hear it. The whirring of the shredder stopped. She heard voices, and the unmistakable sound of the office door opening. Lady luck was not smiling. Clearly, they'd heard something.

Stephanie ducked behind the wooden crate and crouched down, praying. She could really use some of that magic pixie dust to make her invisible about now. Of course, it probably wouldn't work any better than it did when she walked into the boy's bathroom. Maybe a different plan was in order, but despite her best efforts her addled brain was not coming up with a brilliant one.

"Did you hear somethin'" One of the made men asked the other. His voice was deep and gravely. Stephanie assumed it was the fireplug with the bad haircut.

A beat went by. "Check it out." Came the reply.

Shit, shit, and double damn shit, echoed through her head as she held her breath. Now what was she going to do? Stephanie could hear heavy footfalls as someone moved her way. With each step dread twisted in her gut. She was afraid she might be sick as the footsteps got closer. She peered through the slats in the crate. She could see the fireplug scanning the warehouse, gun drawn. Icy fear washed over her, but she forced herself to remain motionless. That was her big plan. Maybe if she didn't move, they wouldn't find her. Hey it worked for rabbits. Once in a while anyway.

Les had just rounded the corner when he saw Stephanie's backside disappear through the warehouse door. He rolled his eyes heavenward and prayed for patience. This day was turning into one giant pain in his ass.

Tank's voice echoed in his head. "Stop whining Santos. All you have to do is follow her to work. How hard can that be." Yeah, clearly Tank had never met Stephanie Plum. Les was beginning to think he'd definitely gotten the shit assignment of the day.

He'd seen the town car around the side of the warehouse. Someone was in there, and somehow, he didn't get the feeling they would welcome company. Les jogged to the door and slipped inside. He just hoped the delightful Stephanie Plum didn't get him shot or herself for that matter.

He watched her head towards the sound of a paper shredder. He gave her some credit. She didn't just barrel in, she was approaching with some stealth. If you ignored the clicking of those FMPs on the concrete. Not exactly the best shoes for spying, although her in those shoes and nothing else might not be so bad. Les mentally smacked himself on the back of his own head and rolled his eyes. Get a grip and stop picturing her naked he told himself. Ranger shared cars and shirts. Ranger wasn't big on sharing women, and Les had a feeling Stephanie was definitely off limits. Those kinds of thoughts, would get him called to the mat. Of course, that would be the least of his problems, if she got hurt on his watch.

Les went wide to flank her and get a better look at who was shredding documents. Whoever it was sounded like they were on a mission. The near constant sound of the shredder masked Stephanie's footsteps and his approach. He figured at least something had gone his way this morning.

Les heard Stephanie knock into something and grimaced. So much for stealth and good luck. The two goons in the office stopped, and Les got his first good look at them. Some big stocky guy and the equivalent of a human weasel in wingtips. Yep, those were Novak's guys. The day had just gone from bad to worse.

They called the big one Tiny. Who said mobsters didn't have a sense of humor? The little weasel with the slicked back hair was Lucky or something like that. Les couldn't quite remember. Rumor was he spent a lot of time at the racetrack and casinos. Of the two, he was the brains of the bunch, but that wasn't saying too much. Tiny looked like a guy that didn't have too many profound thoughts. If fact, Les would take odds Tiny never had a thought. Ever. But then again, it didn't take a lot of brains to shoot an unarmed woman cowering behind a wooden crate.

Ranger was going to owe him for this shit show. Les looked around for something to distract Tiny. The last thing he wanted to do was get into a running gun battle with a couple of mob types in an abandoned warehouse. As Les scanned the area he took one last glance at Stephanie. Les was impressed. Tiny was almost on top of Stephanie and so far, she hadn't made a sound or moved. It was entirely possible she frozen to the spot with fear, but something told him she had pretty good instincts.

There was a piece of pipe and a metal fitting laying on the floor. He picked up the fitting, gave a silent prayer and threw it. If this didn't work, things were about to get messy fast.

The fitting clanged and bounced, drawing Tiny's attention his way. Tiny whirled around, gun pointed and started moving towards the sound. Les saw Stephanie out of the corner of his eye running towards the exit, shoes in hand. Good girl, he thought. Now Les just had to keep from getting shot. Because Les hated getting shot. That shit hurt.

"Who's there?" Tiny bellowed.

Les just waited motionless, pressed up against the concrete pillar praying it gave him some cover. The pipe in his hand as he waited, barely daring to breathe.

Tiny moved past him, and Les stepped out swinging the pipe using Tiny's enormous head for batting practice. The pipe made a solid connection with his skull. Tiny stood stunned for a second and then down he went like a tree, face first with a thud.

Les couldn't help but grimace. Yeah, that was going to leave a mark. He was pretty sure that cracking sound was Tiny's nose breaking as he did a face plant onto the concrete floor. Les took his homemade bat and hightailed it out of the warehouse before the little ferret faced guy came looking.

Les drove past the parking lot. Stephanie's car was gone and he gave a little sigh of relief. She'd at least made it to her car. Hopefully her fine ass was parked at her office about now, and she wouldn't be getting into any more trouble. Les figured the odds on that were approaching zero as he called the control room to get her location.

"Hey Hector, I need the location of Stephanie Plum's car."

"You lost her again?" Hector was laughing.

Les rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't lose her." He bit out. Well, he kind of did, but only because he was busy saving her fine ass from some behemoth named Tiny. Les figured, he'd just keep that to himself. Hector already had one tear drop tattoo, no need to tempt him to add a second.

Hector came back on the line with the location.

"Thanks man." Les said and disconnected.

Hector was still laughing when he hung up. Ok, so maybe he deserved a little grief for getting made by some corporate type. It was the fact she'd evaded him that really chapped his ass. He still broke into a cold sweat every time he thought about her barreling through that intersection. She was either skilled or lucky, and his money was on lucky, and everyone knew luck only got you so far.

Les' eyes cut to the side of the rode. He briefly thought about just driving into the ditch and calling it a day. It wasn't like the guys would rib him that much more. Stephanie was not at work; really why would she be. This should have surprised him, but somehow it didn't. He had a feeling she was one of those women. The kind that made a men drink too much and drive off bridges.

Les blew out a frustrated breath and whipped a U-turn in the middle of the street. He wondered what kind of trouble she could get into next, and then he told himself not to even put that thought into the universe. He had a feeling trouble was her middle name. He could see why Ranger liked her. She'd never be boring; he'd give her that.

Ranger walked into the little coffee shop, quickly scanning the room. His eyes fell on his target. Terry Gilman was seated near the window, waiting. She gave him a stiff smile when she saw him. Ranger gave her a slight nod.

Terry's uncle was Vito Grizolli a local mob boss, and Terry worked for him. Doing what, Ranger wasn't entirely sure. Enforcement, accounting, liaison with the local police. Terry had a pretty well-rounded portfolio. Terry was discreet and connected.

Ranger figured if Sly Novak was laundering money, Vito was his best source of information outside of someone at E.E. Martin. Vito used Harvey Tipp to launder his money. It was a long shot but maybe Harvey was helping Novak. The warehouse that Stephanie had been checking out was one of Vito's commercial ventures.

Ranger didn't particularly care for the choice of table where Terry was seated, but all the people with laptops occupied everywhere else along the wall near the outlets. Besides, Ranger figured, Terry would be less likely to shoot him sitting at a table in front of the window. Maybe.

As he got closer, he noticed Terry was unusually pale and had dark circled under her eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and she wasn't wearing her usual uniform of tight skirt and low-cut blouse. Today she just had on a pair of slacks and a loose pullover shirt.

"Ranger." She said as he sat down.

"I'm looking for information on Sly Novak." Ranger didn't bother with pleasantries. Theirs was not a relationship that required them.

Terry raised one well-manicured eyebrow at him. Terry was a beautiful woman, but Ranger always steered clear of any entanglements with her. He'd just never been interested. Then again, she'd never really offered. Terry knew how to distract men with her looks, but it wasn't something she used with him.

Ranger wasn't really sure why. Ranger didn't have a type beyond willing and discreet, so that wasn't the issue. It was just he had always thought of her a little like a praying mantis. He might get off or he might get dead. Possibly both. The odds seemed about even. He was afraid if he ever ended up in bed with her, he might end up with a bullet to the brain. Ranger liked her just fine, and sometimes they did each other favors, but that is where he drew the line.

Terry stared at him a beat and shrugged. "You'll owe me."

"Understood." Ranger replied. Everything had a price. Nothing was ever free, and that was doubly true when it came to Terry.

Terry just shrugged. "He was using E.E. Martin to launder cash. Paying fake vendors for non-existent orders. Seems like the inside guy got cold feet." She made a vague gesture with her hand. "He had an accident a little over a month ago. Word is Novak has a large sum that needs cleaning, but nobody to do the laundry. He's antsy to get it done, because he needs it to disappear."

"Novak is in Trenton?"

"Yes."

"Any idea where?"

Terry shook her head. "No. But he was operating out of a warehouse on Calhoun." Her voice trailed off.

Ranger eyed her for a minute. He could tell she was starting to look a little green. Sweat had popped out on her upper lip.

"Are you OK?" He asked cautiously. He'd take a puking woman over a crying one any day, but he wasn't particularly fond of either.

He saw her squelch a gag. Oh shit, this was not going to go well. Ranger got up and pulled Terry up with him, putting his arm around her as he herded her through the crowded coffee shop, shouldering hipsters out of the way. If he didn't hurry, Terry was going to hurl all over everything, and he really didn't want to draw that kind of attention.

Ranger opened the door to the family restroom giving a silent thanks it was unoccupied, and shoved her inside closing the door behind her.

Now wasn't that interesting. Ranger was pretty sure Terry Gilman was pregnant. And as far as Ranger knew, the only man that had been warming her bed lately was Joe Morelli. Somehow Ranger figured that would make for some awkward family dinners. A little part of him really hoped that meant Morelli and Stephanie were finally over for good, but he wasn't ready to take that bet. Those three had been doing that dance for years. He reminded himself that was none of his business.

A few minutes passed and Terry came out. She gave him a weak smile. She didn't look great, but her color was a little better.

"You didn't need to wait." She told him.

"I wanted to make sure you were OK. Do you need anything?" Ranger was assessing her.

She waived her hand dismissively. "Just bad fish. It's nothing a little rest won't cure." She gave him her best fake smile to reassure him.

Ranger nodded. It wasn't any of his concern, but he certainly wasn't going to go around telling people. It was clear Terry didn't want anyone to know.

"Understood." Ranger saw her look of relief.

"If I hear anything else, I'll let you know." She reached out and gave his arm a little squeeze. Ranger figured that was as close to thank you as he'd ever get from her.

Ranger nodded and headed out, irritation rolling through him. He'd learned exactly nothing new about Sly Novak. He already knew that he was using E. E. Martin to launder money and that he had been operating out of the warehouse. Ranger figured it wasn't a complete bust. At least Terry had confirmed Novak was in Trenton. She'd also confirmed that Novak was looking for a new inside person. That put Stephanie square in the middle of the bullseye.

He checked his phone again. Still nothing back from Stephanie. He'd texted, asking to meet her tonight. It was time to loop her in. Tell her the truth. Of course, after his rain man performance this morning, he wouldn't blame her if she blew him off. If she did, he guessed he would be paying her a visit. It wasn't like she wasn't going to hate him after tonight anyway. He blew out a breath. Ranger slid into the Porsche. Time for a little B&E at Stephanie's apartment to plant some trackers. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want anyone else in her personal space, going through her things.

Stephanie's hands were shaking so badly once she got out the warehouse district she pulled over and parked. She took a couple of calming breaths. That had been close and she had been damn lucky. If some other noise hadn't caught the fire plug's attention, she could be tied to a chair having her fingernails yanked out about now. Assuming they really yanked fingernails out. She rolled her eyes. That probably wasn't the burning question she needed answered.

It really felt like her world was crumbling all around her. She was a little afraid she was on the verge of hyperventilating. It wasn't often that some mob guy with a really big gun was hunting her in an abandoned warehouse. That happened like never. She dug through her bag and found her phone.

She had a text it was from Pardo. He wanted to meet tonight. Even with everything going on, she couldn't help but smile or stop the warm feeling that pulsed through her. She found that she wanted to call Pardo, ask him for advice. Lean on him. For some reason she trusted him.

That was silly. She didn't know him, and somehow dumping this in his lap didn't seem like a good idea. Oh hey, I know we had one night of blistering sex, but it turns out, I think I may have inadvertently stumbled on a money laundering scheme, and I'm pretty sure the mob is tailing me. Want to have dinner. Yeah, somehow, she didn't think that would go over all that well. Besides, right now she had more pressing problems.

She pulled up Morelli's number and dialed.

The phone rang. Come on, come on pick-up she thought. It rang some more and went to voicemail.

"Joe, it's Stephanie. I need you to call me back as soon as you get this. It's important." Stephanie hung up and stared out the window.

Maybe she should have made it clear it didn't have anything to do with their fight this morning, it was quite possibly a matter of life or death. She shook her head. No, she wanted to keep it vague just in case. In case of what? Her phone was being bugged? Stephanie would like to dismiss that thought, but someone had been following her this morning, and someone was shredding files after she found the fake vendor's office. She didn't think it was simply a coincidence.

What was she going to do? Twenty-four hours ago, life had been good. Now her relationship with Morelli was over, she was probably about to be out of a job, and if she was lucky, she wouldn't end up dead or in jail. But hey, at least she'd had a few life altering orgasms. She rested her head on the steering wheel for a second and moaned.

OK, get a grip she told herself. She sat back and took a big breath. As she scanned the street, movement caught her eye. Wait, what? Stephanie narrowed her eyes and looked again. No, that couldn't be. But it was. Marc Pardo was sitting with Terry Gilman at the coffee shop across the street. She felt a nameless dread engulf her and she swallowed hard as the contents of her stomach threatened to remerge for the second time this morning.

Was Pardo messed up with the mob? Did he work for Vito? How did he know Terry? Had he been sent to recruit her or strong arm her if he had to? Was it all just a set-up? A thousand questions streaked through her brain like fire. Her breath caught in her throat.

She watched as Pardo stood up and put his arm around Terry and they headed to the back of the coffee shop. The two of them looked awfully cozy. This wasn't just some chance meeting; they clearly knew each other. And well.

A whisper of a thought went through her head. Maybe meeting Pardo hadn't been quite so accidental. Did Pardo bump into her on purpose at the mall. Had he been following her? A strangled sound escaped her throat.

Pardo was playing her, of that, she was sure. His vague answers, his interest. Their whole evening together was nothing more than a way to reel her in? A way to get close to her, and find a weakness he could exploit. Even taking her to the beach house hadn't been about romance. He wanted to make sure nobody spotted them together. Stephanie's body felt alternately hot and cold.

Pardo had been awfully interested in her work at E.E. Martin. Even offering to look over some of the spreadsheets. God, she had been so stupid. She'd basically told him she knew something was up. Maybe Pardo had been the one following her, and he was more a threat than she could have imagined. Maybe the sex had just been a bonus or a sick, twisted way to blackmail her.

Stephanie barely got the car door open before she threw-up in the gutter. She sat back in her car and closed her eyes. Oh god. It had all been a set-up. Marc Pardo was in on it. She yanked a couple of napkins out of the console and wiped her mouth, willing herself not to puke again.

Where the fuck was Morelli when she needed him. Probably screwing some woman like he always was. Of course, she knew it wasn't Terry this time because Pardo was probably in the bathroom doing her at this very minute. Another wave of nausea rolled through her. Fortunately, there wasn't anything left in her stomach to come up. Stephanie put the car in gear and headed to the office.

Ranger's phone chirped. It was Les.

"Report!" He barked.

"It's bad." Les started.

"Santos." Ranger warned.

Les rubbed the back of his neck.

"Two of Novak's guys were at the warehouse shredding files. Stephanie saw them. I'm pretty sure the cat is out of the bag. I saw her take photos."

"Is she OK? Did they see her?" Ranger's anger was vibrating through the phone.

"It was close but, they didn't see her." Les hedged.

"Is. She. OK?" Ranger enunciated each word like English wasn't one of the languages Les actually spoke fluently. Les narrowed his eyes, his irritation starting to kick up.

"Yeah, cuz. She was fine, right up to the point where she saw you getting all cozy with Terry Gilman at the coffee shop." Les really wanted to know what that was about.

"I wasn't getting cozy." Ranger's voice trailed off. "Where is she now."

"E.E. Martin." Les replied.

Ranger pinched the bridge of his nose. Could this day get any worse? Turns out those would be some famous last words.