Dickie and I were on our way home via a convenience store where I'd stocked up on ice cream when I heard sirens behind us, and an ambulance raced past us. It was followed by two police cars.

"That doesn't look good," Dickie said.

A minute later, we were stopped. There was the ambulance, a stack of police cars, and a police car with bullet hole through the windscreen. I could see Morelli's unmarked car there, and I got out and started running towards it, with Dickie calling for me to come back. I found Joe straight away. His mouth was set in a grim expression.

"It's Eddie," he said. "He's okay but he was shot."

Eddie was on a stretcher being wheeled towards the ambulance. I rushed over.

"Hey Steph," he greeted me. He sounded like he'd already been given pain killers.

"Eddie! Are you okay?" I asked him anxiously. Eddie was one of my closest friends in elementary school, and he was married to my cousin Shirley.

"I got shot. Shirley hates it when I get shot. Steph, I need you to do something for me," he said.

"What do you need?" I asked him.

"I need you to babysit on Saturday night, Shirley's going to be pissed and I need to make it up to her," Eddie said.

"Nice try," I said, relieved. If Eddie was trying to blackmail me into babysitting his devil children, then he was fine. Last time we babysat, Dickie fell asleep and they cut out a chunk of his hair the day before he was due in court.

Dickie and Morelli caught up with me as Eddie was loaded into the ambulance.

"Eddie was the patrol car sent after the Red Devil, and they shot at him. Another car chased them but they disappeared into Slayers territory on Comstock Street," Morelli told us.

"Who are the Slayers?"

"The Comstock Street Slayers, they're a gang looking to prove themselves and take over territory."

"They are not a group to be messed with," Dickie said.

Dickie looked worried, more than I expected, but I assumed he knew far more about the Slayers than I did from his days at the DA's office. Morelli promised to keep us updated and we drove home in silence.

The next morning we woke up at the same time. Usually Dickie got up early to work while I slept in. We decided to go out for breakfast together to mark the occasion. I was in the mood for pancakes.

"When are you going to move the last of the boxes?" Dickie asked me.

"They're all empty, I just need to break them down and put them in the bin."

"Seriously? You're using our garage to store empty boxes instead of your Mercedes?" he asked me.

"The Mercedes is fine, it likes parking in the drive," I told him as we walked outside, then stopped as I saw the Mercedes and that it was indeed not fine.

It was covered with graffiti, along with the garage door. There was a wide variety, with CSS, pawprints, die narc, and a large penis on the bonnet of the car to top it off. The garage door matched.

"This isn't good," Dickie said. I had to agree. This was pretty serious. And from the look on Dickie's face, I wasn't getting pancakes. Dickie put a call through to Morelli and I started looking in the cupboards for something to have for breakfast.

There was a knock on the door and Dickie jumped up to answer it. He looked through the peephole at the front.

"It's Joe Morelli," he called out to me, answering the door. Morelli came in, and sat down on the couch, declining my offer of a beer. I got one out for me. I had a feeling I'd be needing a drink after I talked with Morelli. He got right down to explaining why he was there.

"We've had news from an informant with the Slayers. It's not great. The Slayers are claiming credit for the police shooting," Morelli began. "They know that you're the witness that saw the Red Devil's face. Adding to that, Dickie put some of their friends in jail while he worked at the District Attorney's office, and that's given them two reasons to go after you," Morelli said. I felt faint. I sat down and put my head between my knees. Dickie rubbed my back.

"You need to stay somewhere safer," Morelli said.

"Where? I have a monitored alarm, a good lock on the door, and a huge fence. Where is going to be more secure than here?"

"You could stay at my house."

"And put my sister and nieces in danger? Do you think these guys are really going to be scared of a house belonging to a cop? Won't they see that as more of a challenge?"

"You're right, they would," he said reluctantly. "I can probably get a few more patrols around your neighbourhood, someone to keep an eye out but we're low on budget right now so don't expect much."

"What about my parents?" Dickie asked.

"Wouldn't that put your parents in danger?" I asked.

"A hotel?"

"A hotel isn't a good idea. It's really hard to secure a hotel," Morelli said.

I could see Dickie weighing up all the options. And because I knew him so well, I knew that one of those options was him in future senator mode, handling the press. This is a tragic outcome, he would say, my wife Stephanie was doing her civic duty in being a witness to a crime. On her behalf I will not rest until I have wiped out crime in this city! Okay so he took a turn more towards Commissioner Gordon from Gotham City there, but I was sure that it would go along those lines. Then he would look sombre and perhaps have a hint of a very manly tear about him, and lay a rose on my gravestone. It would be a top of the line gravestone, of course, which would perhaps bring Grandma Mazur some comfort. She'd be disappointed at my lack of open casket.

"Hey what about Dickie?" I asked. "He was there with me when we saw the Red Devil, and he worked for the DA. Why isn't he on their list?"

"As far as we know, there's four on their list – a cop, two gang members, and you. Dickie hasn't been mentioned except in reference to you. Dickie can't identify the Red Devil, and you can."

Dickie called our insurance company about the paint damage to the Mercedes. Morelli assured us the police would work with the insurance company but wanted to document the damage before it was fixed. I sighed. I was hoping to get the damage fixed before our neighbours saw, and preferably before word got back to the Burg and freaked my mother out. This time, at least, her panic would be justified. Although it still wasn't my fault!

Dickie had gone into the office (even weekend gang related activity couldn't keep him away) and I was trying to find something in the garage that would remove paint when I heard noise outside. I froze. Was it the Slayers? I could hear two male voices and realised that one of them was familiar. I relaxed and pressed the button to open the garage door.

Ranger was outside and admiring the graffiti out the front. Another Rangeman was standing next to him. Ranger's porsche was parked in the street in front of the townhouse. I wondered if Tank was nearby. Or Hal. Mary Lou would be disappointed to miss them.

"Hi Ranger," I said, stepping outside. The second Rangeman turned to look at me. He was slightly taller than Ranger, with lighter hair and green eyes but there was something familiar about his smile.

"I heard you had some graffiti troubles," Ranger said, examining the garage door.

"Yeah apparently someone was busy overnight while I was sleeping."

"Ms Plum is one of our clients and having some gang troubles," Ranger told the other Rangeman.

"I'm Lester," the unknown Rangeman said. "My cousin is being rude and not introducing me." He put his hand out and I shook it.

"Nice to meet you, Lester," I said. I wondered where Lester had been hiding when I was in the Rangeman building. He was like a non-scary version of Ranger. Maybe the customer service version.

Ranger took his keys out of his pocket and looked down at them. There was a keyring with a electronic fob and the Porsche key. "They know what your car looks like, and they'll be targeting it. Take my car instead." He handed me the keyring.

"I can't take your car," I told him, trying to hand it back.

"Carlos, man, you know what that will mean," Lester blurted out, looking surprised. Ranger ignored him, and took my hand, closing it around the key.

"It's just a car, Steph. It will be a distraction. Take it. Go for a drive."

"How is this supposed to blend in more than a Mercedes? It's a Porsche!"

"It's black. And the Mercedes is spray painted with rude words."

"I'm sure that the insurance company will give me a rental to use, so I don't need your car," I told him.

"I've got to go away for a week or so anyway, so I'm not going to need it."

That made sense, and I had always wanted to drive Ranger's car.

"What if it gets spray painted?" I asked him.

"It won't."

Lester was looking at the front of the house. "I think a camera out the front, and another out the back would provide good coverage," he said.

"Call Hector and make it happen," Ranger ordered.

"What are you doing? My plan doesn't cover video monitoring," I told him.

"You're getting an upgrade, babe."

"If the Slayers decide to come by, having video could give us an extra few minutes to get a team here, plus we'll know what they look like. We can take it down after this is over if you like," Lester said. Yep, Lester was definitely from customer service.

I invited them inside, and closed the garage door behind us. We went into the kitchen where Lester inspected the back door and small courtyard area while I made coffee. I found a packet of choc chip cookies in the cupboard to share with Lester and an apple for Ranger. The cookies were better than nothing, but they didn't compare to Ella's in any way.

Lester was better at keeping a conversation going than Ranger, so we chatted easily while we waited for Hector to arrive. Ranger was quieter than normal, which I wasn't sure was possible but he seemed intent to keep to his man of few words persona.

The doorbell rang and Ranger shadowed me as I went to answer.

"Hola Hector," I said, throwing the door open for him.

"Hola Estefania," he said, then looked to Ranger. Ranger gave him instructions and Hector nodded and headed inside to talk to Lester.

Ranger started installing the camera out the front of the house that would monitor the front door and garage. Since I have no experience with electrical equipment, I decided to do some aimless tidying of the house. My mother would be appalled if I was killed in a gang related attack and left dusty shelves in the lounge room.

The camera install didn't take too long, and Hector declined my offer of a hot chocolate but took two cookies. Hector and Lester were packing up the last of the equipment into the SUV that Hector had driven over.

I looked out at the Porsche parked in front of the house and thought about the keys in my pocket.

"What does it mean?" I asked Ranger.

"What does what mean?"

"Lester said you know what it will mean if I drive your car. But I don't know what it will mean," I told him.

"If the slayers see you in the car they'll lay low for a bit. They know if they come after you someone scary will come after them," Ranger told me.

"Hector?" I guessed, thinking of the teardrop tattoo under his eye. I'd be scared if an angry Hector was coming after me. Or even a calm Hector. Possibly a calm Hector would be even worse.

"No, even scarier than Hector."

"Geez, scarier than Hector? Who have you got hidden away?" I asked him, half teasing.

"Me. But I won't be here, so be careful. Let Tank know if you need anything."

He looked back at me like he was going to say more, but changed his mind and walked towards the car.

"Ranger?" I called after him. He turned back to me. I didn't know where he was going and it felt rude to ask (also, let's face it, he's a mercenary and might not have been able to tell me anything anyway) but I wanted to say goodbye to him. "Stay safe," I said to him.

"Same to you, babe."

Lester waved cheerily at me and Hector nodded in my direction. I waved to both of them and went inside and locked the door.