Surviving Stephanie Chapter 4

I yawned and stretched, laughing softly to myself. If that wasn't the most fucked up dream since The Wizard of Oz, I didn't know what was. I smiled, remembering my silly panic over sleeping with Morelli. Geez, it was a fictional character, whore around all you want... I looked over to check my clock.

My clock sitting beside my bed in our suite is a large, funky purple plastic contraption complete with bell ringer things on top and a digital display. The clock I was looking at was a run of the mill black box. In other words it wasn't mine. I stared at it a moment, frowning. Hm, it wasn't mine and it was sitting on a nightstand that was covered in lace. Lots of dust around too. Nope, definitely not in the dorm, and not Sarah's either. Crap, what did I do last night?

I sat up and looked around wildly. Oh no, i knew this room. This was the room that I'd gone to bed in last night in the dream. And those clothes scattered around weren't mine either. I dove out of the bed and made for the mirror hanging on the door of the closet. A tall, curly-haired brunette stared back at me through impossibly blue eyes. It wasn't a dream.

Good thing I didn't just whore around then, I guess. I sighed and looked at the clock again. I should be getting ready for Middle Ages. I should be, but I guess I didn't have to worry about it now. Huh, the one bright spot: I would never have to take another one of Dr Ferris's tests. That thought made me smile, relaxed some part of my mind that hadn't relaxed since the start of the semester. Thank god. Bring on the psychos, the urban commandos, third world countries and war zones. I could handle it, because never again would I have to face a Ferris Test.

It was enough to make me giddy. I almost skipped around the room as I got dressed. God, she wasn't kidding when she griped about her hair. Good thing I had curly-ish hair myself or it might have inspired a panic attack. A ponytail, a pair of jeans, a tank top and a swipe of eyeliner later I was ready to face the world and win.

I got all the way downstairs before I realized I had no idea where to go precisely in order to meet the world. Crap. I poked through the house for an hour before giving up. No city map. No computer. What the hell was this? The stone age? How do you exist without the Internet? I mean, no email, no IM, no MapQuest! I felt like I had already been shipped to a third world country and I hadn't even encountered Ranger yet.

The good thing was that I found keys to the black Honda CRV that was in the driveway, the ugly Coach purse, and a cell phone. Holy crap I'd missed a lot of calls... I paged through them. Mom, mom, mom, Lula, mom, Office, Office, Ranger. Eep. I checked the voicemail. Apparently 'Mom' wanted me to come to dinner (Hello? I was in that hospital room. I so do not think so!), Lula was hoping I was okay, Connie said she had something ready for me (EEEEK!), and Ranger had left an eloquent "Call me." Probably he was just wondering if the head injury would render me useless for distraction jobs.

Stephanie, that is. Not me. God just quit thinking about it, Lyss. You'll give yourself a headache. Not feeling up to talking to anyone just yet I grabbed the ugly black purse, the phone, Morelli's phone book, the keys, and headed out the door. I climbed in and began investigating. It wasn't bad for an SUV. I'm more of a sporty car or maybe a Jeep Wrangler girl. Yeah, I know that's a leap; just blame it on my mixed heritage (half uptown girl, half cowboy). Then I saw the file sitting on the passenger seat. Oh, peachy... Dreading what I what I might find, I picked it up and flipped it open.

I immediately wished I hadn't.

Notes on Evelyn and Annie Soder. A picture of them. Addresses. Notes on the house, about Abruzzi. Oh someone just kill me now. A whimper escaped me as the panic started to shoot through me. I knew what happened in this case. I didn't want anywhere near this case. I got back out of the car and took a few deep breaths.

I could handle this, I could. I'm tough. And if I don't do this that cute little kid dies at the hands of the psycho, I'd assume. Ugh. I climbed back in the Honda, using every calming visualization I ever learned. I didn't have to worry about this now. Now I had to worry about figuring out how deep into this I was and how you navigated this convoluted city. Focused on my goal of learning my way around, I set out.

Two hours, a map from the 7-Eleven, and a peach smoothie later I had it figured out. Sort of. I had located the office, Morelli's house, Stephanie's apartment, and the Plum household. I even kind of knew the routes between them. I had also rapidly realized I despised driving in New Jersey. God, and people live here why?

I finally made it into the office around 10:30, taking a minute outside to gather up my courage and do the whole balancing of the chakras again. At least there weren't any black cars or large scary types about. Good, no meeting Ranger yet. I had grabbed a bag of donuts from a convenience store, hoping Connie and Lula might go into a feeding frenzy and just forget to ask any troublesome questions. Keeping the bag in front of me, I walked in with a smiled pasted onto my face.

I got all of two steps inside before I got bowled over by a large, very solid brown blur. "About damned time!" The blue yelled as it attempted to squish me. Or hug me. It was hard to tell which before I started getting even more squished by a buxom blond with 3 foot hair who could only be Connie. I guess that made the blur Lula.

"We've been so worried about you!" Connie said, sniffling. I raised the bag of donuts in a belated effort to distract from all the hugging. Lula immediately released me.

"I guess that means we ain't in no doghouse?"

"Duh," I laughed. "Accidents happen. We should go out again sometime soon. Like this weekend or something. But no stairs this time."

"Deal," Connie said with a familiar glint in her eyes. I blinked, tilting my head to look at her more closely. Couldn't be...

"Something looks different about you," Lula said through a mouthful of glazed donut. Connie nodded as well.

"Yeah. You look..."

"I didn't get laid if that's what you're thinking," I interrupted.

"No," Lula grinned demonically. "I know that look. This ain't a sex look. This is a whole new look. You do something different with your hair?"

"No, but I'm thinking about it," I said quickly. "Like, blond highlights and a serious trim. Maybe a straightener. What do you think?"

They eyed me critically for a moment and looked ready to give the pronouncement when Vinnie yelled through his office door. "I don't pay you to give out fashion advice! I pay you to give out files!"

Connie scowled at the door. "He's bugged the place again," she muttered and began searching through her desk. Lula took the filing cabinets. I let them tend to it since they probably knew the hiding places better anyway and took the opportunity to pick up the two folders on Connie's desk.

Laura Minello, wanted for shoplifting a BMW (go her!) and Andy Bender. Oh, good lord. I am not doing this.

"Ain't that Bender guy the one with the chainsaw?" Lula asked as she wandered by and glanced at the folder.

"I think so," Connie said, producing the little electronic gizmo from one of her drawers. She began to smash it to pieces.

I waited until she was finished stomping her aggressions out onto the bug, "Hey, think you could run Evelyn Soder through the computer for me?"

Connie stared at me. "You aren't seriously working on that!"

"Yeah, I am. Please?"

"Fine. But it's gonna take forty-eight hours."

"Works for me," I told her smiling. "Thanks Connie."

"Sure.. and hey, since you're going to call Ranger for help on this one, tell him to call me. He isn't answering his pager."

I blinked. If we wouldn't answer Connie, he probably wouldn't answer Steph. Then again, Ranger moves in mysterious ways according to the books. "I'll tell him, if I can get a hold of him." Connie just looked at me.

Okay, so I don't actually remember Stephanie not being able to get in contact with him, but just in case.

I left the office and sat in the CR-V for a minute, working up the courage to push the necessary buttons which would possibly force me to talk to Batman himself. Joe I could handle because Joe is human. Ranger I keep thinking is somehow related to Diesel. At last I decided that if worse came to worse, I could always just hang up and make a run for the airport. I hit talk. Oh thank god, it just went to message. Sigh of relief. I'll live to die another day.

"Hey, it's Steph. Call me." See, he isn't the only one that can do five syllable dialogue.

Feeling much better about my immediate life expectancy, I pulled out the map of Trenton and the file with Andy Bender's address. Might as well get this nightmare out of the way.

Using the map, I managed to navigate my way around to Andy Bender's residence. The map led me into the projects, but it got me to the desired address. Projects. I shuddered looking around before I got out of the car. I hated these places because they always, always reminded me of Candyman. Looking around I wondered which one was named Cabrini Green. I shuddered. If I saw so much as one single bumble bee that was it. Vinnie could get his own damn skip.

Not too far away an old Cadillac and a newer Oldsmobile were parked along the curb, their owners selling various bits of merchandise. There wasn't grass growing anywhere, there were lots of old junker cars though. That's what is so scary about these places, not just memories of demonic stalkers, but the fact that it looked exactly the same as places in Kansas City or St. Louis. They're always the same. It's eerie.

I gathered my courage and pulled the pair of cuffs, the mace, and the... crap. No gun. Then again I didn't actually know how to shoot one, so maybe that was a good thing. Mace and cuffs, let's see what we can do with this. I got out of the car, tucking the cuffs into the back of my waist, and sauntered to Bender's ground floor apartment.

I knocked loudly on the worn door. A series of curses and various profanities issued out before Bender opened it to peer at me, weaving on his feet. Trashed did not even begin to describe how drunk he was. "Mr. Bender?"

"Who the fuck are you?" he demanded. At least I was pretty sure that was what he said. It was hard to tell with the slurring.

I reached back, grabbing the cuffs. I slapped one on his left wrist and shoved him around to get the other one. "I work for your bond agent. You missed your-"

"God damn it!" he roared, taking a swing at me. I ducked the punch but he unbalanced himself and went stumbling back through the door, taking out at least one t able and a lamp. "My lamp! You broke it!"

"Hey, I'm not the reeling drunken idiot, slick," I retorted, reaching for the mace. I'd rather have had daddy's hunting rifle, but that might have been illegal. He threw the lamp at me.

I jumped out of the way and let the already broken thing smash into the wall. This didn't seem to make the Neanderthal any happier, though, and before I could get the pepper spray out, he'd tackled me. We both hit the floor, and there was a lot of confusion as we rolled around fighting. I'd had better opponents in the girls' locker room, but he was freaking persistent.

And then we rolled through the pizza, followed by the potato chips and god knew what other substances. Yuck, it was like being on some psychotic version of one of those old Nickelodeon shows, where you run through the obstacle course and get coated with food.

He took advantage of my shocked moment of yuck to scramble up and produce a very large chef's knife. Oh, no freaking way! I jumped up, running around behind a table to get some distance while I pulled out the pepper spray.

"Oh please!" he scoffed. "That all you got girly? I love that stuff! I'm gonna gut you, bitch."

"As if," I said taking aim and letting him have it.

He wailed as it made contact with his eyes, but he didn't let go of the knife. Oh no, he took off out the door. Clawing at his eyes with the free hand and still screaming. Damn it.

"Don't run!" I yelled, giving chase. "Get your scrawny ass back here!" I was almost to the door when I got tripped up on the end table and fell hard. I cursed it with every single word I knew in English, German, and Spanish before I got myself untangled and out the door.

I made it just in time to see Bender, still probably blind, peeling out in the old Cadillac. The guy who'd been selling stuff out of the trunk waved to him. Grrr. They had a freaking network. How the hell does that happen? Janet, we need to have a serious talk.

I stalked toward the two men. "Who's car was that?"

"Andy's," the first one asked. He was about six foot and scrawnier than Bender. Of course.

"He didn't have one listed..." I pointed out. They shrugged.

"It's a recent acquisition." Probably came with the t-shirts. "Hey, didn't Andy chase you with a chain saw?"

I rolled my eyes. "Probably. Lots of people chase me, it's hard to remember specifics...." The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I was being watched. The two street guys forgotten, I turned to look. My stomach promptly decided to attempt an emergency exit and dropped about 6 inches.

Just beyond the CR-V was a Mercedes. Leaning against the Mercedes was a tall, mysterious man in black with a body guaranteed to send any straight female to her knees. I let my gaze sweep upward, from the great legs encased in black cargo pants to the sculpted abs, the shoulders, those arms, and up to his face. Oh Holy Crap, Janet, you said he was hot, you didn't say he actually does qualify for Cuban Sex God status!

I was so screwed. I bit my lip and walked toward him, half hypnotized by the hotness, half-terrified of the upcoming ordeal. Janet, we who are about to die salute you...

"Yo," I said weakly. His eyes were dark, amused, and there was the hint of a smile on his lips. Good, stay that way. Amused is good. Amused does not result in my getting shot or sent to Liberia. "I need some help."

The amusement became more visible. "Again?"

I sighed, feeling increasingly nervous. "Yeah... Um, it's about child custody bonds. You know about them, right?" I was frantically going through my memories, trying to replay any and all interactions. What I wouldn't do for a script...

Ranger's head inclined about an inch. "Yes." Geez, Ranger, economy in all things, huh?

"I'm looking for a mom and her seven-year-old daughter. They're local, kind of neighbors even, but I have zilch. No leads, no nothing. Not even rumors. Connie's running stuff through the computer but that will take a couple days."

"Give me what information you have and I'll ask around."

Hm, I know that Abruzzi is after them, they're connected to Evelyn's childhood friend, and it's about some stupid medal... "Thanks," I said with a sigh of relief. Ranger's vague smile reappeared.

He reached out and brushed a few potato chip crumbs off my t-shirt. It was really hard to ignore the fact that his hands were near my chest. In fact, it felt suspiciously like...

I batted the hands away. "Ranger! One set is pretty much like another, you know... " He looked at me for a second, then his lips parted in a grin. A wolf grin. I had a sudden sympathy for cute fuzzy bunnies who get to realize that they're lunch.

"Maybe you should get used to it, considering what you owe me..."

I blinked, shocked for a second. Then my mouth overrode my brain. "You're one of those acquired tastes, then? Like wine- awful the first time and then..."

Ranger stared at me like he hadn't seen me in years. Uh oh. Cover blown. Well hell, might as well bluff it out. I looked him straight in the eyes and pasted on a smirk to echo the one he'd worn earlier.

"Babe," he said warningly about a second before his hands grabbed my arms and pulled me forward. I barely had time to register what had just happened before I was being kissed. Again. His lips covered mine and there was nothing gentle about it. This was lust incarnate.

No wonder Stephanie's always confused. Ranger was just as good as Joe at this. Different, definitely different, though. Joe made you think of hot naked horizontal things. Ranger I was thinking of XXX-Hardcore Porn inspired things.

By the time the kiss was over I was about two nanoseconds away from suggesting the hood of the Mercedes in broad daylight. It took me a second to remember who I was.

"Anything else you needed?" he asked, his voice rough. Good, I better not be the only one thinking NC17 type things.

"Abruzzi. He owns the house," I blurted out, trying to keep myself from actually saying any of the ideas running through my head. "And he seems way too interested. And way too psychotic." Ranger nodded, as if this made perfect sense and the hormone-enraging kiss had not just actually happened.

"Try to stay away from him," he suggested. "He's not a nice guy."

Neither are you, I really wanted to point out. Instead I just nodded in agreement.

Ranger started to get into the car, but paused. He looked back at me, and the expression in his eyes was even more unreadable than average. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy," I said softly, giving him a smile. He nodded once, then got in the car and drove away. I watched the black Mercedes disappear before I climbed into the Honda and dropped my head back against the seat.

I was guessing I had maybe a day before he interrogated me. Probably less. Screwed. Royally. Moi.