Thank you for the reviews and for sticking with me even though this story is going very slowly! Happy New Year!

Ugh. Peanut butter and wine was not a good combination the next morning. I'd had dreams involving flame throwers and the smells from the night before, and all the tossing and turning had left me with some of the worst bed hair that I'd ever seen. There was a knocking sound coming from somewhere and it took me a few seconds to realise it was the door. I opened it to find Ranger on the other side, holding a coffee cup in his hand and looking a bit startled.

"Scary hair there, babe."

"I didn't sleep well," I told him. His eyes softened at that and he handed over the coffee cup.

"We have a meeting at the police station in half an hour. Morelli wants us to go over last night. You have ten minutes to shower and get dressed. We'll get doughnuts on the way," he told me.

"You eat doughnuts?"

"No but meetings with cops always go better when you arrive with doughnuts."

"Who is the meeting with?"

"The fire marshall, Morelli, Captain Targa, Marty Gobel. Don't know who else. We're going to give information, and we're going to get information. I'll be back in ten minutes," he told me.

I headed for the shower, and exactly ten minutes later, there was another knock on my door.

"Lester doesn't have to come to the station with us because he gave his statement last night, but they want information from both of us," Ranger told me. We went down to the garage and got into a black SUV. We stopped at the Tasty Pastry on the way and Ranger was in and out in thirty seconds. I was impressed at his decision making power in the face of so many doughnuts and choices.

We parked outside the police station and walked inside. Ranger seemed to know where he was going and opened a meeting room door. There were six men already inside, who Ranger introduced me to. I already knew Marty Gobel. Ranger handed around the doughnuts and we all sat down. There was one chair left beside me. The door opened, and Morelli walked in. He nodded to everyone in the room, and then sat in the car beside me, taking a doughnut. He smiled and squeezed my hand.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, "I had to wait for the babysitter."

"For the girls?" I asked him.

"No, I've got someone on lock down," Morelli told me. Captain Targa cleared his throat. Apparently that was all Morelli was allowed to say on that subject.

"You called this," Captain Targa said to Morelli. "You want to run it?"

"Stephanie and Ranger have information to share with us. And they're hoping that we want to share information with them. As you'd all be aware, Stephanie is my sister-in-law, and her husband Dickie Orr is missing. Mr Manoso is her security consultant," Morelli said. His eyes went first to me, then to Ranger. Morelli was in cop mode. His eyes were serious. None of the laughter that I usually saw in them. Morelli was a good cop, but he saw a lot of bad stuff while he was at work.

"For reasons that are obvious, Stephanie and I have been looking for Dickie Orr," Ranger said. "Stephanie was looking for him, accompanied by two of my men, in the warehouse when the fire started. And we were in the apartment building last night when the fire occurred. We know that all three fire victims were dead before the fires even started, most likely killed by a flame thrower. There was an accelerant used in both the warehouse and apartment building fires. Both were started by a timed incendiary device, but last night after I called 911 I did a fast search and didn't find anything that looked like a bomb. I also didn't hear a significant explosion when the fire started."

"You saw the victims before the fire?" Targa asked.

"Lester Santos saw Smullen in the warehouse. Lester, Stephanie and I saw the two bodies last night. All three bodies had been burned beyond recognition. We suspect that a flamethrower was used," Ranger told him.

"The accelerant was gasoline. And we think the fire started by a toaster bomb both times," the fire marshall said. Mary Gobel nodded.

"The flaming toaster bomb. Of course. We see a lot of them," he said. Morelli cracked a smile and squeezed my hand.

"Have you identified the victims from the apartment fire?" Ranger asked.

"We're working on it. There's not a lot left of them," Morelli said. Ugh.

"We saw Rufus Caine enter the building and didn't see him leave," Ranger said. "He said that he was meeting with Victor Gorvich that night. Tank and I were watching the front and didn't see either man leave the building. Hal was watching the back and saw someone rappelling out a back window but didn't get a good look at who."

Ranger didn't share any other information that wasn't relevant to the night before. He didn't share that he thought Ziggy's killers were tied up in all this, that we suspected that Dickie had run off with $40 million dollars, or the drug connections. I guess he thought that he was being talkative enough without all that. The meeting ended, the doughnuts were finished off, and we all left. Morelli slung his arm around my shoulder and kissed my head in farewell.

"The girls miss you," he told me.

"Give them all my love. Tell them Aunt Steph will have them for a sleepover once all this is sorted out."

"Even Bella?"

"Is she sleeping through the night?"

"No."

"Then no."

"I'll tell Val you said so," he said. He nodded to Ranger and we walked outside.

"Toaster, hey?" I said as we buckled ourselves into the car.

"When I did my run through the apartment looking for an incendiary, all I saw was the couch and toaster. Smullen's girlfriend had taken everything else. I didn't think anything of the toaster."

"Next time we enter a building with gasoline splashed around everywhere I'll remember to unplug the toaster," I told him.

Ranger glanced into the rearview mirror.

"We're being followed," he told me.

"What? Who by? Which car?"

"White Cadillac, two back," he said. I turned around in my seat to look at the car.

"Ah it's Joyce's other car. I guess she got sick of following me around in the red convertible."

"She's been following you before?"

"Yeah. A few times. Mostly when I'm at Plum Lingerie. How does she know which car I'm in? Does she just follow every car that comes out of Rangeman?" I asked.

"I don't know. She shouldn't be able to find you unless she's waiting at your work or your parent's house. Would she have access to your phone?" Ranger asked.

"I don't think so."

"We'll check your bag for bugs when we get back. If that doesn't show up anything, we'll get Hector to look over your phone," Ranger said. We parked in the underground garage below Rangeman, and took the elevator up to Ranger's apartment. I emptied my bag out on to the dining table.

"Anything from you in there?" I asked Ranger.

"No. But I'm guessing that lipstick is from Joyce. You can buy those in The Spy Store," he said, picking up a tube of lipstick.

"Huh. I thought I must have just picked that up from Val or Mary Lou," I said.

"I'm guessing Joyce dropped it into your bag when you and Mary Lou went to her house," Ranger said. He looked through everything else in the bag. "Do you like cough drops?" he asked, picking one up.

"No. They're medicine disguised as candy and they taste gross."

Ranger looked at it closely.

"This is good. Small. Well disguised. No one is likely to try and eat it."

"What do you usually use?" I asked him.

"Pens. Small. Useful. You can write with them," he said, taking a pen from his sideboard and handing it to me. I tried writing with it. It looked just like a pen to me.

"Are any of these bugs or just trackers?" I asked Ranger.

"Just trackers. It would explain how Joyce was following you so easily."

"That is so creepy. I had two trackers on me and I didn't know it. What else am I missing? And who planted the second one? When?"

"It's probably as simple as why Joyce wanted to track you – one of the partners who thought you might know where Dickie was and lead him to the money. Maybe they're putting trackers on everyone associated with Dickie just in case."

"You just don't want me to freak out," I told him.

"There's no point in worrying over this. We're just assuming what these do. I'll take them downstairs and give them to one of the tech guys to check over."

"Wait. Ranger. I had those trackers on me when we were following Rufus Caine. The owner of the transmitted would have known that I was waiting outside the club, and that I was following Rufus."

"I don't think they were keeping that close of an eye on the tracker. The plan to kill Rufus was already in place before you were at the club," Ranger said.

"It must have been an awful death," I said.

"That's why they would have chosen it. It will instil fear. It's a common tactic. There's paramilitary groups that make good use of flame throwers. I've seen them used before. It's not the most effective way to kill someone but it sends a definite message," Ranger said.

"What message is this guy sending?"

"I think he's just enjoying himself. He sets fires to cover up what he's done afterwards, and hide the flame throwers being used. No one would have known except we saw the bodies."

"I thought you didn't want me to freak out," I said.

"You're safe here."

"I can't stay here forever."

"We'll find whoever is behind this. Don't worry."

"I need to go and visit my mom and show her that I'm alive," I said, changing the subject. My mother would have cake on hand and I was in sudden need of a lot of cake. With a lot of sugar. It was still early enough that if I timed it right there would be a cake fresh out of the oven.

"I need to stay here, but I'll send one of my men with you," said Ranger. "Lester's off duty today, but I can assign you Vince."

I was still freaked out enough that I didn't protest and just nodded. I swept my belongings back into my bag, minus the trackers, and followed Ranger out into the lift. We went down to Level 5 where he told Vince the good news that he was on Stephanie duty that day.

"Babe, you okay?" Ranger asked me.

"What can I say, I think everything is finally catching up with me," I told him. Vince and I headed down to the car.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Vince asked me.

"Yeah. Must just a little cold," I said.

"Here. I keep a spare Rangeman jacket in the car just in case," Vince said, handing it over. It was black, embroidered with Rangeman, and even though it would have been better if it had smelled like Ranger, it was still comforting.

"Thanks Vince," I said, zipping it up.

We drove to my parents' house. I could see that my father was out with the cab. Only my mother appeared in the doorway though. She looked relieved to see me, invited Vince in with me, and tried to serve us both up coffee and cake. We'd timed it perfectly – the cake was freshly out of the oven and still warm. Vince took the coffee and excused himself outside to keep an eye on the neighbourhood.

"Have some cake. You're looking much too thin," she said to me.

"I'm fine, ma," I said, but I still took the extra large slice that she offered me.

"Any news on Dickie?" she asked me. I shook my head.

"No, it's like he's disappeared. I don't know what's going on, Ma. This is all a big mess," I said, and put my head down into my arms. She patted my back.

"It will be all right, Stephanie. Have faith. I'll light an extra candle for you at church on Sunday. You should come along."

"I don't think church is going to solve this one," I told her.

"Think about it. I'll send you home with extra cake too."

"Thanks ma," I told her. She walked out of the kitchen while I finished up my cake, and drank a cup of coffee.

"I'd better get going, I've got to get to work," I said. I didn't, what I had to do was try to come up with some way to track down a flame thrower wielding maniac, but it didn't seem like a good idea to mention those details.

My mother handed me baskets of laundry.

"Can you drop this off to Valerie on your way?"

"She has you doing her laundry now?"

"Something is wrong with her basement steps and she can't access the washer or dryer. Joseph says that he'll fix them on the weekend but in the meantime, Valerie is dropping her clothes off here and I drop them back. I don't mind. Although your grandmother keeps making comments about selling off Joseph's underwear so I have to do a count and keep her out of the laundry. I need the laundry out of the house before she gets home from the beauty salon."

"Grandma would just be kidding, ma. She wouldn't really sell off Joe's underwear," I said.

"She said that she had a top bidder of $50 per item!" my mother said, shoving more laundry at me. "Please Stephanie, just take it so I know it's safely out of the house."

I sighed and took the laundry out to the car.

"Yours? There's washing machines on the fourth floor if you wanted to use those," Vince told me.

"No, my sister's. There's a problem with her washer and dryer. I need to stop there to drop them off."

We pulled up outside Val and Morelli's house, and Vince and I hauled the baskets up to the front door. Val flung open the door. She looked frazzled. Bella was in her arms, crying. I put the basket down in time to catch Bella as Val thrust her into my arms.

"Just hold her for a minute, I need to go to the toilet," Val said, then disappeared. Vince and I looked at each other.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"I'll stand guard out on the porch and keep an eye on things out here," he told me. Wise move.

Val reappeared a minute later, hair brushed, looking calmer. She took Bella (still crying) from me.

"Sorry Steph. Bella's teething, and won't nap, and cries even harder if I put her down," Val told him. "Do you want a cup of coffee?"

"No thanks, I had one with mom," I told her.

"Cake?"

Well, cake I couldn't say no to. We moved into the kitchen. Val put Bella into her high chair and gave her a teething toy to distract her, while she got out the cake and plates.

"Joe's been working late all week," Val told me. "I know his job is important but sometimes it makes it hard. And then the stairs issue, and I can't get to the washer and dryer. I've got washing piled up. I take it over to mom and dad's, but it keeps piling up. Then teething. I haven't slept in days."

Val really wasn't selling this parenthood thing to me very well.

Bob was pacing around the kitchen, sniffing near the basement door. Usually he would bound over to see me, nearly knocking me over in the process, but today he ignored me.

"What's Bob doing?" I asked.

"He's been acting weird all week," Valerie said. "Joe said maybe there was a rat in the basement, just to add to the basement issues. Bob hates rats. As if the stairs weren't bad enough, now there's rats. That's what you get when Morellis drinking beer do your renovations. I'd let Bob into the basement to deal with the rat, but I don't want Bob to get hurt on the stairs."

"Good boy, Bob. Come here," I called to him, but instead of coming over to see me, he whined and pawed at the basement door.

I was trying to get Bob's attention and get him away from the door, when it dawned on me.

Morelli only dealt with one kind of rat, and it wasn't the rodent kind. I realised what kind of rat it might be. A large one. A cheating one. One who I suspected had not so accidentally kicked Bob under the table at my parents' house a few times.

I walked over to the basement door and put my hand on the door handle, looking at Bob.

"What is it, boy?" I asked Bob. Bob bounded enthusiastically at me. "Is there something in the basement?" Bob jumped up against me, nearly knocking me over. He wanted to get into the basement.

"Stephanie, don't open the door! Bob might get hurt on the stairs," Val said to me.

"I'll hold him back," I told her. "Anyway, if I'm right, there's nothing wrong the stairs. Although the rat is a bit larger than normal."