The Missing Piece in Ranger's Life
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Chapter 13
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Ranger's POV
After all that tense yet bizarre drama in Stephanie's apartment parking lot, we needed a change, anything to get those tainted images off our retinas. We focused on our fitness routines, doing our recommended exercises and assisting each other with spotting on the weights.
In retrospect, the visual scarring from Lula's wardrobe malfunction, after the initial shock, was actually quite hilarious. But, we laughed more at the two poor hapless cops, Carl and Eddie, with their dilemma, being so very up close and personal. Their shocked expressions and unspoken words were clearly evident with deciding what the hell to do, and how to solve this catastrophe for themselves, and poor Lula, since she was handcuffed. There was nothing subtle about it at all. Their eyes spoke loudly with those looks of fear and utter horror.
"No, man. No. Fucking way. Not me!" Carl had declared emphatically, putting his hands up in surrender, before quickly resuming the hold on Lula's handcuffs.
"Well, I'm not even going there. No touching. Shirley won't ever let me live it down." Eddie had whined in reply.
Then the unspoken dialogue while they tried to avert their eyes, yet not letting their guard down with the unpredictable and volatile Lula. Being so up close and personal with Lula's escaped and exposed voluminous breasts was a double dilemma of huge proportions!
"Holy shit!"
"What the fuck do we do now?"
"I'm not touching them!"
"They're enormous!"
"How did she even get them in there?"
"They might escape again!"
"TMI!"
"Fuck!"
"This was not in the guidelines for Apprehensions 101."
It was priceless. Their facial expressions were so readable. Miguel and Rex did a voice over running commentary which made it even funnier when we replayed it. We could hear the laughter from Rangeman. We needed some humour to break the tension, but this was most unexpected.
Then chivalrous Cal, showing his levelheadedness and quick thinking, was cool with the practical solution to cover poor Lula's embarrassing predicament. Saving face is what it was all about. The sheer relief on all three of their faces was palpable.
Yesterday was quite the eventful day. My evening with my beloved Stephanie was so wonderful. I really crave her so much, and not just because of our sexual compatibility. Even while I was pondering our precarious future as we were waiting in the jungle during that FUBARed mission, I knew, I felt it. She is my soul mate. Stephanie is my other half. She completes me and allows me to live, and feel, and love. She sees me, the man, but she accepts that I have different roles to perform in being the CEO of Rangeman and accepts me regardless of my dark secrets that still haunt me from my various missions.
She floored me when she said, "I love all the other Rangers, too."
Dios! When she mentioned the "other Rangers" my jealousy surged. Suddenly she laughed when I tensed up at those words. She was laughing at me!
"Oh, Carlos. Silly man," she chuckled. "You are the only Ranger for me. I was meaning your other Rangers. You know … Rangeman Ranger, Corporate Armani Ranger, Sexy Ranger, Wet Ranger, Naked Range-"
That's when I pounced on her with a growl and her delightful mischievous chuckles got muffled in the kiss, but they warmed my heart. She squealed as I captured her lips in a toe curling kiss. She was baiting me and had succeeded in pulling the tiger's tail.
She sees the other Rangers in me and loves them all. She is my Wonder Woman and she calls me Batman. I remind her I am not a super hero. My supposed ESP skills make her think I have special powers. It's just that Stephanie is so open and expressive, that I can seemingly read her mind. It also helps when she inadvertently discloses her thoughts out loud at times. Stephanie makes me smile. I don't think I had much cause to smile before she hovered on the edges of my carefully composed equanimity. Somehow, she broke down my stoic barriers of self-preservation and protection, and touched my heart. Yes, she captured my heart. Damn. I am so lucky that she did. No regrets.
I pledged to spend more time with her, enjoying her company and doing things together. Not just work related things. She called me a workaholic and an overachiever. I had to laugh recalling that nugget. She was right. My focus was running the Rangeman business as an efficient, successful and reputable enterprise while providing meaningful employment and support for skilled military personnel as they came stateside.
But as she so aptly said to me, "Even while you are in the wind, Rangeman still runs efficiently with Tank and your Merry Men."
Her reference to these battle-scarred military men as her Merry Men endeared her more to them and to me. She saw beyond the schooled blank faces and battle hardened men. She brought so much light into our lives without even realising the impact she had on all my men.
Regardless of all those stupid idiotic disclaimers I made before, disclaimers which now make me cringe, and honestly, I regretted so much, we were already in a relationship. It took more than a fucked up mission to confirm that. But with this clusterfucked situation, we still can't truly achieve our deepest wishes, to be together. We had already agreed on her moving into Rangeman, with me on seven. Only Tank and Ella knew, and now, after Lula's unexpected visit, so do Cal and Manny.
Lula's arrival in the parking lot at Stephanie's apartment was weird. Stephanie's spidey sense during the night was very timely and as always, right on the money. I am just so relieved she expressed her concerns so early. It never fails to amaze me how that spidey sense of hers is so sharp and finely tuned. Who knows what might have happened if we had not moved to our Endgame? I sigh with utter relief.
Lula proved that she was a loose cannon many times prior to this morning's showdown. Remarkably, their friendship formed because Stephanie saved Lula after that freak Ramirez left Lula all cut and bloodied on her fire escape after a brutal assault. Stephanie's loyalty to Lula was amazing. And now? Lula has thrown away that friendship and loyalty, and become insanely jealous. Why? Morelli won't let go of his obsession with Stephanie. Lula and Morelli deserve each other, diabolical loose cannons as they both are. Little did I know that there was an element of truth in that passing observation.
Taking stock of where I am, I look around me. This small gymnasium was functional, and was definitely practical for both our recovery and our sanity. The safe house was well-appointed, ideal for our present situation where we could work off site in liaison with Rangeman, in the basement conference room, yet still be connected with the business of capturing and hunting down our perpetrators.
Deep down I really wanted to be back at Rangeman. STAT. My mind was swirling with a variety of commands poised to issue. I had to sit back, so damned bloody frustrating as it was, but I trusted Tank and the team at Rangeman implicitly and unquestionably. He would keep us in the loop. He was doing a damned good job. Having to stay on the low down was getting old.
I just wanted to be in the thick of it.
Be involved in the most active and intense part.
Just to be back there.
Right there.
At Rangeman HQ.
Close to my Missing Piece.
Close to Stephanie.
Not to be distracted.
But to feel connected.
She centres me.
Sometimes I feel that I need her so much, like I need air to breathe.
But really, in this situation, this clusterfuck, I just want to be there.
Close to the action.
I wanted to take command.
Okay, I admit. I wanted to be in control.
This clusterfuck has totally fucked everything up.
Damned bloody frustrating!
Infuriating!
Exasperating!
Okay …
Breathe …
After I completed the cool down phase, I stepped down from the treadmill having finished my run through Clusterfuckville, wiping down my face, arms and neck with the towel.
"Deep thoughts?" Rex asked me as he knuckle bumped me.
I nodded. He smiled. He nodded. He understood.
I have to breathe again, to centre my thoughts and channel my energy into a more purposeful direction. Miguel had cranked up the music on his playlist with a good beat. Run This Town was perfect as I took some of my annoyance out on the bag, but had to back off with my shoulder.
We went upstairs to shower after our workouts, and then we met in the kitchen to make breakfast. While everyone pitched in, it was my turn as the morning chef and I decided to make four different omelettes, which we could cut into quarters to share. Thiago fried the mushrooms and a hearty pile of bacon, while Rex set the table, poured the orange juice, set out the water bottles, and made a fresh pot of coffee. He also made a fruit platter. Miguel assisted with cutting avocados, chopping tomatoes and onions, and making a corn salsa as a side.
Using the leftover potatoes which I had hidden sneakily at the back of the fridge before anyone could polish them off, I made a Spanish omelette with some cayenne pepper, chives and cheese. While that was cooking through, in the oven, I made the other three simultaneously. A vegetable omelette was next with green capsicum, corn, and tomatoes; another with fried mushrooms, tomatoes, cheese and spring onions, and the last was chorizo, cheese and baby spinach. The omelettes were perfectly timed and nice and fluffy by the time the Spanish omelette was cooked through. From the island bench we loaded up our plates adding some bacon, mushrooms, tomatoes and salsa, before we sat at the table for a hearty morning feast. We polished off the fresh fruit selection. Delicious. Very cleansing. It was not a temple day.
We all had an appetite today yet our hunger was not exclusively for food. As that thought hit me, Doc and Taipan arrived with fresh groceries and other supplies. My eyes instantly focused on the extra box which Taipan brought inside and placed in the conference room. As we cleaned up, we watched them return to their van with what appeared to be some extra furniture. My interest was piqued. We assisted with the last delivery before they locked up the van in the garage.
Doc grinned at our curiosity and bewilderment as Taipan revealed the four folded trestle tables. Under Doc's direction, we moved the chairs aside and pushed the conference table to the wall. The trestle tables were placed end to end, in two rows. creating two longer work areas. My eyes went back to that mysterious extra box.
"A present from Tank," Doc explained simply with a wink. Taipan's face lit up with a sly grin and a wry chuckle.
Not waiting for an invitation, we all huddled around the mystery box as Taipan revealed large plastic envelopes. I recognised them as clear document envelopes, which contained lots of paperwork. He spread them out on one of the trestle tables. Ah. Photographs. Lots of photographs.
Doc nudged Taipan as he recognised my delight in the nature of the photographs. My three amigos grinned when they realised what our mystery box contained. The photographs were in sets which documented each piece of paperwork discovered in Lula's Firebird. We viewed a couple of CDs that showed the video evidence of the whole haphazard backseat scene from Lula's Firebird from this morning's eventful capture, and also items of relevance that were boxed in the boot of her car. It appeared that the filed documents had tumbled out of their archive boxes, possibly from some erratic driving, and braking. However, each box had a neat label. Oh, bless you Lula. Deposits. Transactions. Transfers. Tax. Filing & FTAs. Lubelle Enterprises? Hm. Interesting. I wondered if that was her monthly business sideline. And from a cursory glance, it confirms that she had been busy, and what a lucrative business it had become. I'll get to that one later. These others are more pressing.
I smiled. Good one, Tank. He knew we were getting antsy and restless, me in particular, and this gave us a new resolve to be able to analyse the evidence first hand. A constructive task to get our teeth into. Being off site was frustrating the shit out of me. This was perfect. Remote analytical tasking. Being involved and feeling productive was exactly what we needed. I'm sure they had the original photos and documents spread out in one of the conference rooms in the same manner. This would make Stephanie, Manny and Rodriguez very excited. We can compare notes later and the forensic auditing they do so well will be very revealing.
Apparently, in the boot of the car were four small wheelie bags, a small duffle bag, and a personal travel bag. The photos revealed her special toys and outfits for playtime with the big boys. One was a black leather set, obviously a Dominatrix outfit with whips and clamps and FMP thigh high boots and all the paraphernalia befitting the role. Thiago whistled at the array, nodding his head. She had it all, and so much more. The second set was a red She Devil set with much the same accoutrements. The third set was a sexy nurse and the final one was a sexy French maid outfit. The comprehensive accessories were well organised. Just goes to show that Lula knew her stuff. Perhaps her role playing activities were the order of the day rather than sexual favours. One has to wonder. That's a lot of body to get into those outfits! Of course, just like her usual spandex outfits, these costumes were stretch fabrics. Voluptuous must be the preference for her monthly clientele.
Doc gave each of us a short physical assessment checking our vitals, and was satisfied with our continued recovery and progress. With a knuckle bump and a thump on the shoulder, they left us to our task as we eagerly pored over the extensive photographic evidence of Lula's financial documentation and filing of crucial data. Data that was most incriminating and comprehensive. Each of us had a pencil and a legal pad to record any observations, while we spent the next three hours scrutinising all the rudimentary ledgers and records of financial statements. Two of the thicker envelopes contained records of her texts with Morelli, and the more substantial one had all their emails. Oh yes. Bless you Lula. Perhaps her filing system was not conventional, but she had everything dated and recorded efficiently.
But the last envelope was the most revealing. It contained all the entries from her diary schedule for the last six months. Very illuminating indeed. It was a comprehensive summary of her movements and appointments, including each rendezvous with Morelli. Despite initial appearances, she was very organised, making our task quite straightforward. It was patently obvious that Morelli was still on the clock for many of these encounters. However, despite what we thought was a haphazard filing system, Lula documented every action. She even had made transcripts of their meetings in dot points.
Oh, Lula, Lula, Lula. You silly, silly girl. Lucky for us, but it sucks to be Morelli. There was so much incriminating data from all the financial statements, documents, receipts and deposits, all nicely compiled and dated. Evidently, she went to different bank locations by the looks of it, perhaps to avoid creating any suspicion with the frequent large withdrawals and transfers. The last three months were internet banking transfers. But her work deposits for Lubelle Enterprises was always all done through the same branch in Hamilton Township. Perhaps Morelli forgot to give her the memo about not leaving a paper trail. Dios. Her paper trail was like Bigfoot trampling through the forest. Yes, so very comprehensive, to the letter, once we re-sorted the envelopes' contents. Methinks Lula missed her vocation.
The trestle tables enabled us to spread out the data in sequential order. Having four of them was necessary. I had the texts and the emails on the conference table. Rex was calling out the diary entry dates and Thiago and Miguel arranged them accordingly. In amongst her paperwork I discovered a Certificate of Accounting which she had completed at night school it seemed. Homework? She had used her actual documents and deposits as part of an assignment during her study course. Madre Dios. Fortunately for her, she altered the names, for that surely would have alerted any suspicions including what could appear to be money laundering.
We confirmed the names of the accounts for that fucker Morelli and his two asshole collaborators. Coincidentally, Lula had also recorded them on a neat list along with what appeared to be an offshore account for Morelli. The IRS would be so very ecstatic with her detailed references. Oh, Lula. The guys were grinning at me and shaking their heads. It proved one thing: Lula was quite honest in maintaining her data efficiently, and keeping it all up to date.
The amount of dollars she had transferred to the three dickheads was in the six figures, but most had gone to Morelli. I wondered if his idiot co-conspirators realised that. Morelli seemed to have built a nice little nest egg. The stupid idiot allowed her to transfer the funds to another new account … Ugh! Stalloneitaliano?! Seriously?! What a fuckwit. Such an ego! I showed Miguel beside me as we worked together. He lost it. Rex and Thiago came over to see what the fuss was about.
"You've got to be kidding! What a conceited moron!"
"Is that what I think it is?" asked Rex tentatively.
"Yup. I reckon Stalloneitaliano translates to Italian stallion."
We all cracked up at that. Laughter is a good relaxant. Good medicine. I'm still shaking my head at the fucker's inflated ego.
I'm sure Tank has Manny and Rodriguez digging into all that with a deep forensic audit. They would be in their element, rubbing their hands in delight. So, this was in addition to that Italian cupcake account. What was it? Tortinaismine? Two accounts. Interesting. I bet his buddies have no idea.
I reckon Stephanie will be somewhat stunned by these revelations. But she already suspected Lula's deliberate and deceitful intentions. Informing Tank and Cal gave them a solid foundation to work with. And, now with all this astounding incriminating evidence, Morelli was irrefutably sunk! Lula has also done herself a disservice. She has incriminated herself in so many ways so her charges will likely include an accessory to treachery and acts of treason. Morelli is a dead man. What do they say? You reap what you sow. Damn! Pity we have to hand him over.
But the texts! Madre Dios! Connie did allude to Lula always texting Morelli. Fu-uck! Between the sexting drivel – so gross, I cringed as I gave an involuntarily full body shudder of revulsion – to her Baby, Sweetcheeks, Honeybuns, Stud, Stallion, Wild Thing, Fluffy Bear (more like hairy bear!) Papa Bear, Sexy Butt and more, from your Honey Bee. His initial texts referred to her as his Cupcake and her obvious angry retort made him change it to Magic Muffin. Madre Dios! Then it was back to Honey Bee from then on, her preferred option. From the messages, Lula was very assertive.
In among their sexting were her texts with the names of their FTAs and the location where Stephanie planned to intercept them. Names and destinations. Times of their lunch rendezvous as well. Damned asshole stalker. That's how Morelli knew where she was.
Lula was playing with the enemy. While enabling him, she was getting off on his tirades and disparagement of Stephanie. She thought he was sexy with his pacing rants. Where's the wall? I need to bang my head against it a few times. That was very evident in her texts encouraging him and praising his derision of Stephanie. Lula was throwing Stephanie literally under a bus. So much for loyalty. It was obvious she didn't give a shit anymore. Morelli certainly made a turncoat out of Lula and for what price? Fuck buddies! I never would have figured that … how the worm has turned. Yuck! The sexting was very explicit. Thiago and Miguel made a parody of them while we had a lunch break. They were incorrigible, yet quite hilarious, especially with their sassy Lula rendition and an exaggerated Italian accent for the douchebag fucker. I will need a lot of brain bleach to erase the sickening imagery. Too much information!
I am so relieved that Tank partnered Stephanie with Cal, who was sharp and perceptive enough to suspect Lula's desperate actions and motives.
My thoughts were interrupted by my phone chirping.
"Are you having fun yet?"
I grunted.
"Morelli is a dead man. I bet he has no idea how bad this is gonna be for him. He has sealed his fate so comprehensively because he was thinking with the wrong head. His brain was not on his neck and shoulders. So, … How did you like Lula's filing system?"
I heard the chuckle. I don't recall Tank chuckling so much with recent events and these communications.
"In a word, illuminating. But, something tells me you have more to disclose, Tank."
Another chuckle! I growled in frustration.
"REPORT!"
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TBC
Who would have figured that? Morelli and Lula. OMG! What do you reckon?
And here it comes. A nice long chapter for you and what is there to report?
PS: Thank you for your wonderful words of encouragement with my interlude Chapter 12B.
BTW: ChristinaS, you are so right, my sense of taste/smell is still not at normal capacity. Looking at my oatmeal I will think of you as I visualise the taste of cheesecake. LOL!
I like the Get Well Highway comment from a guest.
Of course, the characters you recognise belong to JE and I am just playing and manipulating them. Thiago, Rex and Miguel are mine. Any mistakes are mine alone.
