I've been so lost in all your stories, I've neglected my own. Sorry.

Chapter 27

Frank walked over to Stephanie's cubicle waiting until she noticed him. Lost in thought, chewing her lower lip, Steph was brought out of her daydream when Frank cleared his throat, "Pumpkin?"

"Dad, I haven't heard a thing."

"Ranger called. Tank's son is safe. He wants you to go up to his apartment with me and wait until he returns. Your work is done here."

"Why can't I wait here for the men?"

"The men have been released to return to their quarters. He knows you want the details and probably need to eat. We can wait upstairs for him to return to answer your questions. If you are hungry we can have breakfast delivered. Edna said you didn't eat dinner."

"My stomach is burning from all the coffee I've been drinking. I could use some food." Stephanie was humoring her father. Her mind was running through all the other Merry Men who went out. Was someone injured? Hector? Les or Bobby? The more she thought about it, the more anxious she became. "Dad, can't you tell me anything?" she asked as they approached the elevator.

Frank shook his head. "We both will find out when he gets back."

She tried to turn away from the elevator, "Maybe someone else knows."

"Don't get yourself worked up without knowing what is going on."

"Exactly! I don't KNOW what is going on."

"Pumpkin, getting emotional won't hurry the information along. When the information is known, you will be told."

"Gads, you sound like Ranger," she huffed.

"You and your mother dithering about without the facts. You fill your head with "What Ifs" becoming confused. Under the emotional load, you both rush off, making bad decisions. It would be better to stop the 'what ifs,' clearing your mind so you can handle the information when it comes."

Stephanie stopped and thought about what her father had said. Was she like her mother? Yes, she did tend to rush off without solid plans. It is what got her into trouble since her youth. She allowed her emotions to guide her actions. Many of her bounty-hunting catastrophes related to her reacting without thinking. She knew that but lacked the control to stop her impulsiveness. Why? Emotions were a major part of her life and that's why she had a hard time understanding Ranger and his blank face and few words. When faced with problems, she often ran away or self-indulging in food or alcohol until her emotions settled down. Ice cream, doughnuts, cake, alcohol were all her emotional bandaids. Lula gravitated towards savory items like fried chicken.

Lula, she forgot about Lula. What was she doing, where is she? Stephanie began pacing, working herself into an emotional frenzy. Her spidey sense was vibrating. She went to her purse and tried calling Lula. No, it was early in the morning and Lula was not a morning person, like her. The phone went to voice mail.

Frank put his hands on his daughter's shoulders, "Breathe. There is nothing you can do right now without more facts. Ranger and the men are coming back."

Once through the apartment door, she rushed to the kitchen looking for sugar. Yeah, right, it was found in abundance in Ranger's kitchen. Before she tore the cabinets apart, Ella opened the door. "I don't know if you want anything to eat, but I brought bagels, croissants, spreads, and fruit. Do you want me to make coffee?"

Frank shook his head no. "I've been drinking coffee for 18 hours, my stomach is in revolt. I'd prefer water and something solid to eat."

Stephanie nodded in agreement passing the coffee pot in favor of water from the refrigerator. She grabbed two, one for her father and herself. Ella was nearly finished laying out the food when Stephanie remembered her manners, "Ella, how is Luis?"

"He's doing well. I'm on my way to the hospital this morning with Zip and Junior. Hopefully, he can come home to recuperate."

Why did Ella need two Rangemen? Bodyguards? Did Ella always travel with back-up?" Steph's mind snapped back, "Oh Ella, you didn't need to do this," Steph said indicating the food now residing on the breakfast bar.

"It was no problem. I haven't been sleeping anyway. At least you'll have something to eat while I'm gone. I should be back by Noon."

Frank spread half a whole wheat bagel with cream cheese, added several capers and finely diced red onion, then a slice of smoked salmon. Stephanie watch intrigued. "I never thought I'd see you eat something like that."

"Not in Helen Plum's house, that's for sure. Pumpkin, for the last several years it has been all I could do to stomach her dinners, the only meal I ate at home. I asked innumerably for a variety of more healthy food and what I got in return was "Frank, you've always liked my cooking."

Stephanie spread two bagel halves with cream cheese and strawberry jam. "What do you eat?'

Frank finished chewing and took a sip of water before answering. "Salads, roasted vegetables, broiled fish, or chicken. I have several vegetarian places I like."

Wrinkling up her nose, Stephanie mewed, "Who are you?"

"Rip Van Winkle," he said sadly. Frank looked off and thought a while before turning back to his daughter. "Pumpkin, I was ready to divorce Helen Mazur months after marrying her. She hid her controlling bitch persona very well. When we married, I was a training instructor in the Army stationed at Dix. Your mother thought we would always be at Dix, but that's not the Army way. Soon after we married, I received word I was being transferred to Georgia and the Rangers. She refused to leave Trenton because she found out she was pregnant. I wasn't sure it was my child so I couldn't divorce her. I went to Georgia and she went to live with her parents. That pissed her off and I've been paying for it since. I was home for Valerie's birth but had to return to duty. When my contract was up for renewal, I wanted to continue and the Army wanted me, but I knew Helen would never accept it. I stood up to her. If she wanted to remain a married Burg woman, she would have to accept my job would keep me away for long periods. Her standing was all she cared about.

Whoa, this was not the family history she had heard before. Her parents were always elusive when their children asked about their early life together. Now she understood why. She knew he was a Ranger but had never heard the full story.

"Soon you were conceived. Helen knew you would be a boy and was already planning her perfect family. She had everything ready to bring home her son, Stephan. When you were born, she was furious with me since it is the male who determines the child's sex."

Frank left his bagel and water, stood, and went to the window overlooking Haywood street. "I was not around for your first year. You were a colicky baby as was Valerie, according to Edna. Helen's milk didn't come in and she had to resort to formula. Since the Burg condemns any woman who doesn't breastfeed, Helen remained hidden. Being cooped up and with two small children. Edna took care of you. She bonded to you, not your mother. My last assignment, a short two-week job, didn't go well. The helicopter crashed. I returned to Walter Reed hospital for two months. My field days were over, but I still had time on my contract. When I was released, I came home to a pissed-off, over-stressed wife. She told me she wished she could divorce me for lying to her. I did tell her two weeks, not two months. But we were Catholic and Burg women don't divorce." He turned and winked at me, "Except for exceptionally strong Burg women."

No wonder Mom was so upset with me about my leaving Dickie. She had endured having an absent husband, why couldn't I endure an adulterer?

Coming back to the table, Dad sat and continued his story. "So I moved in with Joe Juniak for a few months until Helen let me back in the house. Helen never bonded with you. Edna was your main caretaker. She and Karl would bring you to Joe's house. It is why Joe is your godfather. You weren't baptized until you were 9 months old when the Burg shammed your mother."

"Did you stop doing government work after the accident?"

"I no longer did fieldwork but a desk job on contract. It wasn't full-time. I got a part-time job with the Post Office. I always worked away from the Burg where gossip doesn't reign.. Mostly I was up in Princeton or Hamilton Township."

"When did you stop doing government work?"

Frank sat back down at the breakfast bar to finish his breakfast. "Mandatory retirement at 60," he said with a smile.

"Wait, you turned 60 a couple of years ago. You've been a black ops mercenary all this time?"

"No, no. As I said, after the helicopter crash I had a desk job, mostly intelligence. Working part-time for the Post Office was a good cover. My so called out of town trips weren't for the Post Office."

"You were driving cabs before you were 60."

"The cab story started as a carpool to McGuire Dix Joint Base. Then became real part-time after the Post Office and between government work."

"Are you still driving?"

"That is yet to be decided. It depends if Ranger wants me to continue after Luis returns."

"Does he know about your secret life?"

"I think he found out after you revealed my name to him. I heard from Washington that someone was inquiring about me."

He sipped his water and took another bite of his sandwich. "I played the out-of-touch father, spending time in the garage or basement to work on Post Office or military projects. The television was my decoy to keep her from talking to me. We haven't talked much over the years."

"Unfortunately, I was away in the field when you were six and Morelli molested you. I didn't find out about the pastry shop incident until a week later. a Your mother locking you up for the summer and limiting your social activities through the coming school year was beyond cruel, but I was gone for most of it. When I found out what he did to you in the pastry shop, I was ready to throttle him or mess with his Navy service."

"What did you do?"

"He thought he could be a SEAL and was bragging to everyone how great he would be. Turns out the Italian Stallion couldn't pass the fitness tests plus he gets seasick," Frank said with a chuckle. "He still needed to serve his time but I made certain it wasn't in Hawaii or even Virginia Beach."

"Where was he? He's never said."

"Seems Joey boy had a problem keeping his pants buttoned so he was sent to Diego Garcia."

"Where's that?"

"A small atoll in the middle of the Indian Ocean. There are a few women for entertainment, but Joey was constantly confined to quarters for an attitude adjustment, drunkenness, and bar fights."

"So if I chose to marry Morelli?"

"Edna assured me you wouldn't. If you had begun the process, not only would I have refused to pay for anything, I would pull out all his dirty secrets."

"You have a file on Joe?"

"Since he a child. My conflict is or was, he's a decent cop, not great. You have enhanced his career in solving several of his cases. The department doesn't want to release him."

"Will he ever get to the FBI?"

Frank laughed out loud, something Stephanie hadn't heard in years. "They use him for his gang contacts with Terry Gilman but that's it. He's been refused three times. The last time they explained his use was only as a gang informant. His moral history was damaged. I think that's why he kept pushing you to get married in hopes of fixing his image."

Stephanie picked at a croissant. She wasn't hungry after the bagel. It was something to do. There was so much to sort in her mind. Her body was tired, as was her father's, but neither was going to go to sleep until Ranger returned. So they sat and waited, even dozing.

When Ranger entered the apartment and dropped his keys in the silver dish on the console by the front door, Stephanie and Frank revived.

Frank asked Ranger quietly, "Do you want me to stay?"

"No, go and get some sleep. You've been on duty for 19 hours." Ranger reached into his pocket and made a call, "Who do we have for transport? Good, have them meet Frank Plum in the garage and drive him home."

"Ranger. That's not necessary."

"It is, you are back on duty at 1800 until this shit storm is over. Call and a patrol will bring you in," Ranger whispered.

Nodding to Frank indicating it was time for him to leave, Ranger grabbed a bottle of water and took the bagel half Frank has left, adding cream cheese and salmon. Wearily he sat at the table next to Stephanie. "Babe, Tank's son was rescued. He's a little banged up but will be fine. Your speed gathering all the information from so many different sources, weeding through the chaff, was the only way we were able to get to him in time. I'm so proud of you. I knew your amazing brain would come through."

"In time?"

Ranger almost did a double-take. For all he said, she only heard 'in time?' He made a point of congratulating her, but she skimmed right over it. "He escaped the farmhouse and was hiding in the forest."

Stephanie had a big grin on her face but was pulled back noting Ranger's expression. Something went wrong. "But there's more which is why we are here, isolated from the 7th floor."

Ranger nodded slightly. "When we arrived there were two dead and another close to death. The two deceased were Jackie and LeRoy. The third was Lula."

Stephanie sat stunned. "Is she going to make it?"

"Babe, she died despite the efforts to save her. The official report will take time, but from what I saw, I suspect they shot each other."

"Noooo!" To hide her shock, her hands went over her face, her head fell and her shoulders began to shake. Up until this point, the only death of a close relative or friend has been Grandpa Mazur, who faded quickly after his heart attack. His death was expected. The loss was painful, but she had time to prepare. A sudden death, one without preparation, was a hurt she had never experienced before. She could not hide the impact, giving into wracking sobs.

Ranger quickly picked her up and pulled her to his lap. Death to him brought less an overt display of grief, but more an internal numbing. As his woman sobbed against his chest, he remembered his first death. His grandfather, a man who bravely led his family in a small boat to the Florida Keys risking all their lives for America's freedom, then worked 6 days a week providing housing, food, clothing, and love to his wife and five children. The hardships he endured first under Cuban President Bautista, and later Castro, aged him prematurely. Young Carlos was only five with his grandfather died, but like the woman in his arms now, he wept uncontrollably.

His second encounter was with his friend, Ignacio, who was slain by gangs for being in the wrong place. This time young Carlos, only nine years old, did not weep but held in all the emotions. Real men don't cry, he had heard. From then on, death was always near, clawing at Carlos' soul. Death has many names in his Cuban community depending on the type of death. One for death due to childbirth, one due to combat, and more for disease or old age. Carlos did not divide them by category, each loss was a flame that cauterized his emotions. By the time he was an Army Ranger, death was an unwelcome companion that he did not openly acknowledge even if he was the cause. He built even stronger emotional walls. If he allowed himself to mourn like Babe, he would fracture. Carrying the filth around him was one reason he was not open to the woman in his arms. How he yearned for nightmare-free nights. Only with her beside him could he sleep. He would joyfully attend a fireworks display without reliving battle and the fallen if the wounds inside him could heal.

How often had she criticized him for not showing emotion? For not being open to her? He tried to show his love and feelings to her without openly expressing them. "No price, Babe" should have included, "For the love, I give you" but that was an emotional response. His simple answer "Babe" needed explanation but often would require slogging through areas he could not open.

How could he allow emotions to show forth? Slowly a memory came into focus. It was Ignacio's funeral. He had been concentrating on his hatred of those who slain his best friend and didn't hear the priest, until now. "Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Weep with those who weep." In that instant, tears started from his own eyes. Not so much for Lula but he was weeping with the woman in his arms.

No, no, he had to get himself pulled together. Lives depended on him. The conflict was leaving him confused and shaken. He failed to notice Stephanie's crying had lessened. He was startled when he heard her ask, "Was she part of the plot?"

Pull it together, soldier. "We don't know how or if she was involved. No matter where we went, we couldn't catch up with her. You gave us the lead. Bones and Ram were the first on the scene and found Lula barely conscious. She told them she was there to rescue the boy. When we found Cowboy, he was wearing Lula's boots, sweater, and scarf. He said Lula released him and helped him out the window. To me, that doesn't sound like someone who planned a kidnapping."

Stephanie's face showed she was thinking. In less stressful times he would ask, "Something burning, Babe?" Not tonight. He let her speak.

Stephanie began thinking out loud. "What was she doing there? How did she know? Why didn't she say something to me this afternoon?"

"Babe, think about it. Lula was doing exactly what you do. Running off, not talking to people, trying to solve the problem herself. She learned from you."

Stephanie jerked back, shocked. "Are you saying I killed Lula?"

"LeRoy killed Lula. What happened to her is exactly what I fear every time you run off without trackers, without bodyguards or weapons. You don't tell anyone where you are going. One mistake and you would end up like Lula."

"You've always found me."

"Babe, each time you are in trouble, this whole office comes to a standstill. I'm not talking about the money lost, I'm talking about the emotional pain for me and the men. You are family."

"And you?"

"Most of all, me." He was not ready to go beyond that.

"What was Lula up to?"

"All we know is some time ago Hector heard Lula and Jackie plotting ways to get money from Tank. Babe, what did Lula say to you at the BBQ place?"

Grabbing several tissues, Stephanie wiped her nose and eyes. Noting the mascara stains, she wiped them again until the tissue came away clean. Satisfied, she grabbed several more and tended her snotty nose. "She said, 'No, they took him.' She ran off before I could ask who they were."

"Did she know Tank has a son?"

"She and I saw Tank with a boy at Pino's. I didn't know about the boy when she asked me. I thought it might be a Big Brother obligation. She admitted she went looking for Tank at his home close to the Burg. A neighbor said he had moved to someplace larger. Not one to give up, she tried to follow him, but he always was evasive. One day she got lucky and saw him and turned around and followed him. She found the house and saw Tank with the woman and boy. When did he buy a home?"

Ranger set her down on the couch beside him. "Late last winter. He had spent Christmas in Germany with them. If and when they came to the US, he wanted to have a place large enough for them including a big yard and security walls."

Stephanie sniffled some more, "Lula was upset he spent money on such a large place. Is it that large?"

"No. Tank doesn't do ostentatious."

"Is Tank's house larger than the bat cave?"

"Which one? I have several houses."

Stephanie was stunned by that revelation. She wanted to pursue the Batcave angle but now was not the time. She returned to Lula. "I sensed she was worried about the courts imposing a large fine. She has nothing of value to her name."

"A fine probably would have been the least of her problems. She stood a good chance of going to jail for a while. The sentence would have been minimal and with time off for good behavior, it might have been six months."

Stephanie had a final sniff. "I think she knew and was afraid of what was coming. She did say she's been making bad decisions lately."

"Babe, do you think Lula was using drugs?" He didn't want to mention seeing drug paraphernalia in the farmhouse.

"No, I don't think so. She was always adamantly anti-drug. I noticed a change in her since the hospital shooting. It was a different change from when Benito cut her. The brief time in jail may have frightened her so much, she would do anything to retain her freedom."

"Both jail and near-death will do that."

"Speaking from experience?"

Ranger rested his head on the couch's back. Why did a Lewis Carroll poem slip into his mind?

The time has come," the Walrus said,

"To talk of many things:

Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—

Of cabbages—and kings—

And why the sea is boiling hot—

And whether pigs have wings."

Yes, what pours forth now might be boiling hot. He sighed and began. "Fear and death are a part of me. When I was a kid, falling in with the gangs was not what I expected. I was looking for friends, people who would accept me and respect me. More times than not, I was frightened, but couldn't show it. In that life, weakness will get you killed. I grew up having to be strong. It is still part of me."

"Did you see death in the gang?"

"I saw blood, broken bodies, and yes, death all before I was 16."

"Did you…"

"No Babe, I didn't kill anyone but I did bloody a few. I was trying to gain creds when I stole the car that landed me in juvie. It was learning how to fight or die." Ranger paused. Did he want to open up further now? "I've lost family, friends, fellow soldiers and I have brought death to others in the Army. Before I went on my first mission, I had to mentally prepare to eliminate people. It was as hard as any physical training. First I had to develop a moral creed. The Rangers have their creed, but I needed a moral one. I determined I would kill the guilty but not murder the innocent. It is a thin line to walk, one I struggle with every day.

"To keep from going mad, I've had to erect walls around my emotions. I never know what will cause a wall to fail, so I'm constantly reinforcing them. It is why I said 'I don't do relationships.' They require an emotional bond I was not willing to give."

"Why?"

"It means opening oneself up to others. You and I have both been guilty of keeping our feelings locked up. For you, it was the way you were raised. For me it was survival. If you could see inside me, you would see a man stained and defiled. You, most of all, deserve a good, pure man, one damaged by his actions."

Stephanie wanted to break in and make a comment but knew if she did, he would close up. She remained quiet.

"But you have broken through some of those walls. You and Tank know more about me than my family, more than Julie, my daughter. I have become emotionally bound to you but I refuse to acknowledge it. You hold my cracked walls together, but you are not strong enough to keep them bound."

"How do you know?"

"For the same reason you do not open up to me. You may justify it because I am so closed off. I did not expect it from you. When I first met you, I saw a lovely woman, feisty and determined to be a bounty hunter. That fire drew me to you. I stayed close, too close. Then you started to back off, becoming indecisive, making stupid mistakes in your job, and not learning from your errors so you make them over and over. We offered to train you, but you continually refused. That told me you were not serious about your work.

"Then there was Joe. You were running back and forth between your apartment and his house. How many time on-and-offs did you go through? After one or two it should have been obvious you either needed to break it off totally or seek couples counseling."

Stephanie stiffened. "You told me to go back to him."

"Once, Babe, only once. I hoped you'd be with Morelli and quit bounty hunting because the risk of being seriously hurt or killed was less. I wanted you safe. Yes, I was emotionally tied to you but was willing to lose you knowing you were alive. "I was in no position to offer you more than occasional assistance. We were still building Rangeman around the country, I was doing a lot of contract work to get the capital to keep up with the expansion. I had to throw that wall up to protect myself. Seeing you in Stiva's cabinet, thrown off a bridge, burned, shot, cut, hurts me as much as you. You are not the only one with nightmares after the incidents. It's fucked up, I know. So many years of back and forth, me going into the wind, you running back to Morelli, you failing to advance in your job, me not stepping up."

"Me not advancing in my job?"

"Babe, for years you were doing the same low-level skips, barely eking by. You should have money set aside, paying your own health insurance, working towards your retirement."

"I'm not sure I'll make it to retirement."

"Because you are still making the same mistakes you've made since the beginning. Or is it something else? Babe, sometimes you behave like you have a death wish?"

"What?"

"Are you trying to hurt me for sending you back to Joe? Or are you trying to hurt Joe, your mother, or the Burg?"

She pulled back, shocked. "No, no. Is that what you think?"

"That's the impression you give. But I know you are someone who needs constant stimulation. Your brain works at levels beyond most of us. You would fail at a routine job such as a housewife or office, probably turning to something stronger than sugar to ease your pain. You need to move around, you cannot be confined at a desk. Your body craves movement but the only release you give it is sex. You want love, but you equate sex with love. But love is far beyond sex, it is the emotional, spiritual tie with someone else."

"And you don't do emotions."

"With anyone else, no, but remember you have cracked my walls. Now I am learning about love and relationships as if I was a teenager."

"Ranger, I'm so confused."

"Indecision comes with a lack of preparedness and proper thinking. You are like the Energizer emotional bunny, beating a drum, twirling in circles."

That sounds like what her father was trying to tell her earlier. Her running back and forth, getting into trouble with her FTA was due to allowing her emotions to rule her, not common sense. She never had a plan or a backup. The same applied to her love life. She kept saying she loved Joe, but did she? He was a bad boy growing up but seems to be a better man. But was he? When did he become so demanding and possessive? Maybe he always was. His getting into so many girls' pants wasn't based on charm alone. How many did he force?

"Carlos, my childhood had thin moments of pleasure sandwiched between my mother's Burg expectations and the community's judgments. I was allowed to go to college with the expectation I would immediately marry after graduation. Once married, my husband would dictate if I would work outside the home or not. I escaped the Burg to Newark, but fell on my face and returned."

"EE Marin failed, you didn't fall on your face."

"I couldn't find another job."

"In lingerie. Did you expand your search to be a buyer for other products?"

"Nothing had a future. Waitress, secretary, all dead-end jobs. I was running out of money so came home. There was nothing here, the economy stunk, nobody was hiring so Vinnie's job was a hunk of money to help with my college and Dickie's debt."

"So you grabbed the money doughnut, quick relief."

Steph had a pissed off look. What that an insult?

"I've offered you a job numerous times, Babe."

"Pity jobs."

"Yes, originally, but you blew us away with your skills at reasoning. You were so gung-ho to prove yourself in a low-level, low-paying apprehension agent job, you refused to look ahead. If you had shown me you had staying power, not the fastest sprint out of the building, I have several departments I could see you running."

"I don't want to destroy your business."

"Is that your mother talking? You weren't responsible for your marriage failing. You didn't cause EE Martin to close. You were not responsible for being raped by Morelli? You've got to overcome your attitude or you will continually live down to you're your failures."

"And my cars, she sniffed. Am I responsible for them too?"

Ranger pushed her back and examined her face. She was serious. "Oh Babe, the Burg has crushed you. Now that they have you down, they will do what it takes to keep you down."

"Are you saying I shouldn't be a bounty hunter here?"

"If you got training in takedowns, awareness, weapons, and law, plus worked on a team, with a partner, yes you could work your way into apprehensions. But your strengths lie elsewhere."

"What would I be doing?"

"Would be? Until you take responsibility for your life and your actions and prove to use you can work with a team, searches would be your only job."

Ranger could see he was overwhelming Steph with information. Maybe she was exploring this avenue to keep from thinking about Lula. Time to draw this closed for a while. "Babe, life as a BA puts a target on your back. Being associated with me also puts a target on you. Running off unprepared, like Lula, ends in disaster. If you want to live, you prepare with training or you leave.

Leave?

As long as you are around the Burg, you will be the Bombshell Bounty Hunter. Even if you had married Morelli, people will remember car fires and explosions and continue trying to best you."

"Leave Trenton?"

"Either leave Trenton or stay but become strong enough to overcome your upbringing."

Steph sat with her mouth open. Her head was about to explode with all Ranger has shared with her. Is he doing this for a reason? Is he trying to suffocate Lula's memory and gloss over what happened? "I, I, I've got to get some sleep." Immediately she fell asleep and Ranger carried her to the bed.