Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to Janet Evanovich, and the rest is mine. I'm grateful she lets us play.

Warning: Dark fic. Adult language, adult content, violence, smut. This is written for mature audiences only.

Chapter 19

Connie's POV

"Hmpf," Lula says, flopping back down on the couch. "Besides that man's ass and bank account, I have no idea what Stephanie sees in Batman. Too mysterious for my tastes, not like my Tankie. Now there's a real man," she continues pontificating, pausing to snort as Vinnie slams his office door shut.

I watch as Lula wipes her greasy fingers on the edge of the leather sofa before laying back down again with the bucket on her lap. "Do you know what I think? I'll tell you what I think," she barrels on, not waiting for my reply. "I think Batman and Stephanie deserve each other. Stephanie's turned into a frigid bitch this year, and Batman is too much of a man of mystery for my taste. I bet he's a domineering lover, giving commands and taking what he wants. Not for me. I'm a take-charge kind of woman, but I always give my man his pleasure first, if you know what I mean. It's a trick I learned on the streets. Keep a man satisfied, and he'll keep coming back. I bet Stephanie is too big a prude. I bet that's why Morelli dumped her ass. A man has needs, and there's no way she can keep someone as endowed as him satisfied with her skinny white ass. My friends on Stark say he's a real freak in bed," Lula continues to judge and ramble, but I start to tune her endless droning out.

A light on my office phone gleams red, and I know Vinnie is on his desk line. I flip through to the digital readout, and the number comes up as unknown. Great. Only more trouble comes from unlisted phone calls, and I'm getting increasingly tired of making sure I'm not entangled in Vinnie's trouble.

I've worked for Vincent Plum since he hung his shingle. Harry wanted me to keep an eye on things to protect his investment and his daughter. It's safe and stable work, even with Stephanie's mishaps, at least as far as work affiliated with the mob is concerned. But I've watched this past year as Vinnie's personal life and professional life have increasingly intersected as his debts began to mount.

I hate that he's using Stephanie's misfortunes to fund his depraved lifestyle and gambling, and for the life of me, I can't figure out why Lula is still an employee here. She makes more work than she does. Lula must either service Vinnie or have some form of blackmail over him. It's the only thing that makes sense. I also thought it might be because she and Steph seemed to have some kind of semi-productive partnership and friendship going on. It seemed to me that Lula caused more trouble for Stephanie than she helped her, but Steph always welcomed Lula's help, so who I was I to judge from behind my computer screen. The skips came in, and Vinnie was happy.

I was thrilled the day Stephanie came to work here. She was the determined breath of fresh air I needed around here, and I even had a bit of a girl crush on her. I don't have a lot of friends, mostly acquaintances I can't trust. I've done a pretty lousy job of returning that friendship this past year.

The light to Vinnie's line goes dark, and a few minutes later, I hear the slamming of the backdoor and squealing of tires. I pick up my cell and text Lucille that Vinnie left the office. Somewhere along the line, Lucille became my best friend. She and I have bonded over the misfortune of having our lives intertwined with a loser. I think one reason I stayed on in this job for so long is that I didn't want another where we didn't have cause to interact. Even still, something has to give.

I know that Vinnie has set Stephanie up to take on FTAs that are above her skill level. I think there's some kind of payday going on. I confronted him on it after Farro, but Vinnie threatened to go public with my biggest secret if I didn't keep my head down and my mouth shut. I close my eyes and pinch my nose.

I know what went down on Stark Street Tuesday night. I wrote the body receipt out to Stephanie, but it was Lester who took it. Stephanie hasn't worked with Rangeman voluntarily since Farro, and if Lester took Sanchez in, it means Stephanie was in trouble. It only took me two phone calls to get the gist of what happened. I'm sure Steph is currently recuperating, either at Rangeman or her secret apartment. I, on the other hand, haven't slept well since then knowing Steph could have died just to hide the fact that I'm bisexually oriented from the Burg.

I send a couple more text messages, and when the replies come back, I begin the process of shutting down the office.

"And just between you and me," Lula continues, never realizing or caring that I haven't squeezed a word in edgewise as she droned on and on. "Tankie says that he's got some big project in the works and that Ranger doesn't appreciate him no more. He says that he learned so much this year that Tank's gonna start his own security company, and that he wants to take me with him. Now there's a man who appreciates a big, beautiful, hard-working woman. I've done a lot to help him, and not just sexually. This is a give and take relationship. Well, speaking of, I gotta go get my nails done. He's taking me out all nice tonight. We're going to celebrate his rising fortune. Might even need to go to the mall, so, I'll be heading out now," Lula says, giving a big puff of air as she rolls off the couch and waddles over to her handbag. "I'll probably be in late tomorrow, too. Gotta take care of Tankie's morning needs, too, if you know what I mean," she smirks, the door slamming behind her. I give my head a small shake as I repress the unwanted mental imagery before looking at the trash left on the carpet and couch, along with the stack of filing, and sigh. Yep, it's time for things to change around here.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That's quite a coincidence, I think. Tank's quitting Rangeman at the same time Ranger and Lester come in here and threaten Vinnie shitless. God, I've missed having Ranger and Stephanie around here. I miss the good old days, but if I'm honest, they weren't that good. Too many love triangles, gossips, and nobody was satisfied.

Tank and Vinnie. Tank, Vinnie, and Lula, I muse. Then, I look between the stack of files waiting to go back into the cabinets, flip through them, and drop them back into the basket with astonishment. Well, fuck me.

I open the hidden compartment in my desk and pull out a key to Vinnie's office. I never use it, partly because I don't want to catch a disease and partially because I'm not sure he doesn't have it monitored. Doesn't matter now. I start digging through Vinnie's drawers, frustrated when I don't see anything out of the ordinary.

Where do you hide your secrets, you perverted little man? On one wall are framed photographs of Joey Giardello, Sophia Loren, JFK Jr., and Frank Sinatra. Next to that is a Ferrari lithograph and a movie poster for the Godfather. I could nearly gag on the number of stereotypes represented on one wall, but at least it isn't pornography. He probably curated it to appeal to the tastes of anyone who would likely walk through the door, thereby increasing business. At least he doesn't make the Pope watch his dirty deeds, I think wryly.

Starting at the photos, I notice Sophia has more fingerprints than the others. I pull the picture off of the wall, disappointed to see nothing. I stand in the room a moment, holding the frame in my hands when I realize it's heavier than it should be. I open the fasteners and pull off the backing, satisfied to see a thin ledger. I grab the book, return the office to its original state, and promptly put on hand sanitizer after returning to my desk.

I then begin to pull out anything of personal value, which wasn't much and put it into my purse. My days as Vincent Plum's secretary were numbered.

As I lock up, I sling my purse over my shoulder with my opposing hand inside, ready to draw and fire my S&W if necessary. I wonder if Stephanie felt this paranoid the past year, I think, reaching my car. No wonder she stopped being chatty, and guilt constricts my stomach.

I drive out to a safe house in Hamilton Township that the mob owns but seldom uses. I know neither Tank nor Vinnie will trace me there. It's a small, non-descript townhouse in a non-descript neighborhood where people mind their business much more than the Burg. I go in through the backdoor to the kitchen and flip on the light.

"Hello Ranger, Lester," I say, putting my bag on the counter.

"Connie," Ranger replies, looking at me with that inscrutable expression of his.

"Based on Vinnie's condition after you left this afternoon, I'm sure you figured out he and Tank were working together to make sure Steph got the dangerous skips. I don't, however, think you know everything," I state, sliding the ledger across the counter towards Ranger. I then reach into my bag and pull out a flash drive and push it next to the ledger.

"I knew something fishy was going on, but working with Vinnie as long as I have, I turned a blind eye when I should have been brave. Well, I can't do anything about the past, but I can fix things moving forward. That ledger shows all of Vinnie's gambling debts, payments owed to his madame and personal masseuse, hush payments and bribes, and monies Tank paid Vinnie. That flash drive is a voice recording of every phone call Vinnie made on his office phone in the last six months. I started making the recordings as insurance as I saw him become increasingly disloyal to his own," I add in response to Ranger's raised eyebrow.

"There's more," I sigh, looking between the two imposing men before me. "I normally tune Lula's incessant chatting out, but today it caught my attention that she was saying that she helps and works for Tank. Now, seeing Lula work is a rare sight, let alone something worth bragging about, and after doing some of her work myself, I wondered for the umpteenth time why Vinnie didn't finally fire her. I started thinking about any time I ever did see Lula work, and I realized it was only to rifle through incoming skip files, not the resolved files she was supposed to file. I snooped through Vinnie's office and found that ledger, and it confirms my suspicions. What I'm saying is," feeling increasingly nervous under the scrutiny of the men before me, "that I think Lula has been passing information to Stephanie's skips to tip them off and increase the potential that she would be hurt. Lula must have found out about Tank paying Vinnie and decided to get in on both sides. She thinks Tank is her meal ticket and that he's going to marry her someday. She blackmailed Vinnie to give her a cut of the payment Tank gave him every time Steph got hurt. It's all in the book."

I drum my fingers on the edge of the counter before digging in my bag for a piece of gum to chew.

"Why are you sharing this with me?" Ranger asks after flipping through the ledger and calmly passing it to Lester, but his eyes feel like they are piercing me.

"Call it conscience, call it being fed up," I say exasperatedly. "I'm quitting, but I'll stay on a little longer if it helps you nail Vinnie and Lula. I didn't help Stephanie when I should have, but I'm doing something about it now. Once the shit hits the fan with Vinnie, Lucille is filing for divorce, and she and I are moving to Florida. Harry can go fuck himself if he thinks I'm putting up with this "protecting our reputation" bullshit any longer. I'm done. I'm ready for sunshine, margaritas, and true love. A fairy tale ending, if there ever was one, as far as I'm concerned."

Lester looks mildly impressed, and I'm relieved when Ranger relaxes his posture. "Give me a week, Connie, before you ride off into the proverbial sunset," Ranger says, and I smile in return while Lester gives a bark of laughter. "First I need some more information," he continues with a more serious tone.

As we discuss the finer points of nailing Tank, Vinnie, and Lula's asses, I feel a weight lift from my shoulders. As I'm about to secure the safe house behind us, I turn back to Ranger. "Please tell Stephanie I'm sorry," I say, my face as contrite as my tone. He gives me a small nod before disappearing into the shadows with Lester.

A/N: As I wrote the next few chapters, I struggled with length versus switching POVs versus fluff. I don't enjoy writing fluff, so that was out, but it also means that unless we either went back and forth all over the place, had weird chapter endings, or had some ridiculously long chapters, I needed to break things up. This chapter and chapters 20 and 21 are all shorter than the average chapter (5 pages in Word instead of 9), but I felt I was able to honor the story better by making the specific points I wanted to convey. As a bonus, this decision also means I'll be able to post today, Monday, and next Thursday. Woo hoo! More reading fixes!

Thank you so much for your wonderful comments. There were several from new posters, and this is an extra big THANKS from me to you. You guys are wonderfully encouraging, and when I get distracted from writing, you keep me coming back to make sure the ideas and story is developed as good as it can be.

Misty23y really helped me with structure and in making sure I've got all my plotlines covered as we begin to wrap up this story. Thank you for going above and beyond grammar. Meylons kindly answers all of my questions and keeps the medical part of this story in check. Thanks, Babes!