Surviving Stephanie Chapter 21
Disclaimer: Guess what? I'm still not Janet and I'm still not making a profit on this. But hey, if she wants Alyssa, I'm sure we could negotiate a deal.
Note: Reality canbite anyone. Even brats like Alyssa…
-
I didn't hear any further movements from the fire escape. Maybe it had just been the cat. If I tried really hard and ignored the voice in the back of my mind, I could believe that. I could believe I hadn't really heard someone mutter something in Italian or heard the roar of a car engine nearby.
It was just the cat, after all.
Stephanie isn't the only one who's good at denial, Janet. I smiled at my inner dialogue, and laughed silently. Laughter was good. Keep smiling. Keep joking. Because somewhere in the recesses of my alcohol-fogged brain, the next interesting twist in Janet's demented little saga had surfaced. Keep smiling. Keep joking. Because if I thought about it I was going to start crying and if I started crying now I was never going to stop…
I heard another engine and saw an SUV pull into the lot. I froze and all thoughts flew out of my head as it rolled to a stop and the door opened. A huge silhouette climbed out- the size of person who actually made the monstrous SUV look practical. I'd only seen one guy in this cracked-out place who did that: Tank.
The silhouette moved and I caught a glimpse of his dark skin and forbidding features. Yep, that was Tank. Tank was a good guy. Killer teddy bear, remember? I sat and watched him. Come on, this was Tank for crying out loud… I told myself to move, to get up and walk toward him. Tank was Ranger's guy- he baby-sat Stephanie, he'd help…
My legs wouldn't move and my jaw was clamped tight. I was frozen. My imagination, usually so happy and random was stuck on showing me one single image over and over- a big guy sitting flopped over on Stephanie's couch, eyes glazed over and dead.
Sawed in half dead, remote still in hand.
My breathing was rapid and shallow as the image slowly overtook everything else. He was real. He was dead. Oh my god. Someone was really, truly dead. They killed people here.
Suddenly number three on my To-Do list seemed a lot more important. Suddenly it wasn't just a distant annoyance. Because now they killed people, and that meant that they could kill me. Janet couldn't be counted on to save me. I knew for damn sure her plot couldn't be counted on- her plot killed people.
And I wasn't Stephanie.
I wasn't Stephanie, I had no right to call out to Tank for help. I had no right to ask Ranger for help either. Or Joe. I was on my own. I wasn't Stephanie.
The image of the lopsided dead man watching TV wouldn't leave my head. I never thought I'd long for a mental image of Candy and rubber duckies, but I guess I'd finally discovered the levels of horror…
I barely registered when the black truck with the bug lights on top sped into the lot. Ranger. Batman was here to save the day. He got out and spoke with Tank. I noticed a third person was there; I thought he might have gotten out of Tank's SUV. But it was all so far away…
The person I didn't recognize was walking toward me. I remained where I was. I couldn't move- I was trying, but nothing was responding. This wasn't even my body, why the hell should it?
But there were tears sliding down my cheeks, so it wasn't totally not mine.
The man began climbing the fire escape. Tank and Ranger had disappeared. He wasn't making any noise. How did he do that? Or was I just not hearing him? Had I heard anything recently?
You ain't goin' crazy, it's all in your head, Diamond Rio sang softly in the back of my mind. It's all interpretation, to find the truth you gotta read between the lines. Work our your own salvation; that narrow path is hard to find, but it's more than a place, it's a state of mind.
The words sank into my terrified brain and brought with them images of home- of the studio where I had danced to them, of the Wild Horse Saloon with Tim last summer… I'd heard that song so many time sand I just now got the words.
I could breathe again. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and stood up, careful to remain in the shadows. It wouldn't do to let them find me cowering and frozen. Wouldn't be in character for either Stephanie or for me. Blame it on the alcohol, I decided. Now, my next course of action, since I could move again…
I looked up at the shadowy escape. I couldn't see anyone, but I hadn't heard any shots firing either. I bit my lip and debated what to do. I let out a long breath and visualized calming white light, tinged with blue.
Time to face the music….
I walked around the front and slipped inside, taking a moment to accustom myself to the lighting and look around for possible threats. Gods, I'd be sitting with my back to the wall next…
Slowly I crossed the lobby and pushed the button for the elevator. The adrenaline had burned off most of the alcohol, but the idea of the dark, echoing stair case filled me with an empty dread I preferred not to face. And I didn't trust myself not to walk up to the top and throw myself down them. Part of me knew I wouldn't wake up back in my own body, but part of me had begun to take on a crazed desire to get out no matter what the cost, so long as I wasn't in this cracked-out world.
It was the alcohol talking, probably.
The elevator doors slid open and I stepped out into the hallway. My door was cracked open and I walked toward it, my steps slow but mostly steady, my eyes fixed on the door knob. Just reach out… take hold of it… push inward…
I looked up to find Tank lowering his gun. I guess it had been pointed at me. I tried to smile, but I didn't quite manage it. "We really need to stop meeting like this…" My voice only wavered a little. I was happy. Just smile, Alyssa. Keep laughing.
I stepped inside and Tank moved to block my way. I didn't try to move around him. I knew what was on the couch. No point in making it real. "Who was here?" I asked, trying to sound as if it wasn't really important. Just another every day break-in.
Tank was looking at me. I mean, really looking. Analyzing. He was pretty much unreadable, but I had the idea he was waiting for me to fall apart and trying to decide whether he would have to shoot me or just knock me out.
"Babe?" Ranger's voice came from the living room.
"Hey," I called, trying to sound normal. Honey, I'm home! Get the dead guy off the couch…
He appeared around Tank and I mentally cringed. I'd wondered what an unhappy Ranger looked like, in a theoretical sort of way. I hadn't actually wanted to know. My theoretical thoughts had had him glaring and dangerous. The real Ranger was blank. His features, his eyes, it was all completely blank. No emotion.
I thought the glaring and dangerous would have been better.
"Where have you been?" he said quietly. I could almost feel the icy arctic winds billowing around me. I swallowed and shrugged.
"I—I hid. And then I couldn't move… I just couldn't…" I took a shaky breath and moved on. Next topic. No crying jags now. "Is it… what's in there?" Please don't show me. Please, please, don't show me…
"Steven Soder" Ranger said grimly, "and yes, he's dead." He stepped closer. "You hung up on me," he growled. I winced and looked at the ground. I couldn't even face him. I wasn't Stephanie.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Ranger. I should never have called you, I know that. I just panicked. I didn't have my gun or anything and I heard someone and I…" My voice trailed off as my throat tightened. "I'm sorry," I whispered. I waited for… I don't know what I was waiting for. For a death blow? For the kidnap team to show up and ship me off to Ethiopia? Whatever I was waiting for it wasn't what happened.
Instead, I found myself being kissed. It was soft, non-threatening. No pressure, no tongues, only a little heat. And then I was being hugged and Ranger's voice was in my ear.
"Don't ever hang up on me, Babe," he said quietly, then, "…No me asustes como esto otra vez."
"I didn't mean to," I offered. He let out a breath that might have been part laughter, and released me. He leaned back a little and cupped my cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing away a tear. I hadn't even realized I was still crying.
"I know," he whispered. There was a long silence.
"Boss, you need to look at this," a semi-familiar voice called as Tank reappeared from the living room.
'You might wanna call the cops," he said in his own deep voice.
Ranger nodded and looked at me. I just shrugged. "Might as well," I told them and pulled out my cell. Using the apartment phone meant stepping closer to the living room and risking a glimpse of what was in there. No way in hell was I doing that. "You guys can go if you want," I added. "I know how y'all feel about paperwork and cops in general."
I stepped back out into the hallway and started going through the phone book. I was familiar with Steph's listing insofar as I knew where Ranger, Mac, Joe, the office, and Jack were located. The police station took a second to find.
Ranger and Tank walked out of the apartment followed by the third person I hadn't recognized. Seeing him, I momentarily forgot what I was doing. "Lester!" I said with genuine feeling.
"Hey gorgeous. Ain't seen you in a while,' he said, grinning.
"Yeah, it's been whole entire hours." I found myself grinning back at him. He just had that look. You couldn't help but smile back.
"Interesting house guests you keep." Ugh. Lester, you're on my good side, don't blow it now…
"Dead guys are all the rage now," I said flippantly, although my voice sounded strained even to my ears. I turned my attention back to the phone and hit the call button. I was giving the 911 dispatcher my address before I realized something else: Why hadn't I just called them to start with? What on earth had possessed me to dial Ranger's number?
The cops arrived just as I was convincing myself that it was my typical drunken brain in its usual random mode that had caused me to think of calling Ranger instead of 911 like a normal human being.
Tank had thought to get Rex's cage out before he left, so it was just me, terrified girl wonder that I am, Hamtaro, and Batman sitting in the hallway. Ranger had been silent since the other two had left, and it was starting to make me edgy.
Well, not really his silence, but silence in general. Silence led to thinking and thinking was not something I wanted to do just then. I turned looked at Rex thoughtfully.
"I want to get him a new cage but I keep forgetting. One of those plastic space-age thingys, and a hamster ball. Have you seen those? They're neat, they're these big balls the hamster can get in and you let them roll around in them…"
Ranger glanced at me, the ghost of some expression drifting across his features.
"And if you're holding me to the handcuffs promise, I need some warning, okay? Because I can't find my fuzzy cuffs. And I hate normal handcuffs. They leave marks. It's not fun when there are marks." I frowned and looked uneasily back at the door to my apartment. The door to the house of horrors.
"You know something? I think this is karmic retribution. I mean, I really like this life. Awesome friends, lots of fun, excitement, and all that… so I guess this is just the down side, right? Like, you can't have everything great, and since some parts are so great you have to have parts that are just horrific…" Oh my god, someone stop me, I'm starting to sound like Kloughn!
Ranger's hand touched the back of my neck and then somehow I was much closer to him than I had been. "Proud of you, Babe," he said.
I turned to meet his gaze and smiled, warmed by the words in spite of myself. So what if he thought I was Stephanie? I was her for all practical purposes, right? And if she wanted this life back, she could damn well come and get it back. I wouldn't stop her. Besides, he was proud of her actions and her actions were mine. So there, Janet.
The elevator opened and two uniforms stepped out, looking annoyingly amused. Now, Ranger has a weird sense of humor, but he has nothing on cops. Cops are warped. Comes from dealing with people too much.
Soon the apartment was buzzing with cops and I was aware I was probably going to chew my bottom lip off out of sheer nervous tension. I made an effort to stop it, but then I started chewing on my fingernails. I thought about attempting to stop this but I was afraid I might start sucking my thumb. That would be undignified.
So my manicure slowly went to hell.
Morelli showed up eventually and came to sit next to me, with only a cursory territorial glare at Ranger. I let it pass. But unfortunately at some point this evening Ranger's hand had become my security blanket and to hell with anyone making anything of it. Then again I thought of Ranger and company as sort of a different breed of cowboys. Cowboys were familiar, a part of my old life. Maybe I was just clinging to the illusions of familiar things.
Honestly anyone's hand would have done. I was in bad enough shape I might even have held Vinnie's hand. I would have been holding Rex but I remembered he bit. I was pretty sure Ranger only bit when naked. Or on really special occasions.
"Is he okay?" Morelli asked, looking at Rex. Good cop move- test the waters, ignore the annoying mercenary, and distract the witness in one fell swoop.
"He's fine."
"How about you? Are you okay?" he looked at me, and I could see the worry. I gave him a shaky smile and nodded.
"Peachy keen." I pretended my eyes weren't filling up with tears again. I pretended I wasn't holding Ranger's hand because a cowboy was a cowboy and deep down I just wanted my dad. I pretended I didn't really just want to wake up in my suite and laugh about this over smoothies and turkey wraps with my best friends. Keep smiling. Keep laughing. Don't cry now because you'll never be able to stop.
"This is bad," Morelli said. "This isn't just fun and games anymore." Oh, but it is, Joey-boy. It's Janet's fun and games. "We'll question the neighbors, see if they heard or saw anything unusual… but you can't stay here tonight. Where will you go?"
I thought about that. At home I could go to Mom's, or fly out to Daddy's, or my grandparents', or go to various friends' apartments because we were in college and if a friend needed to crash on the couch you let them. Hell, I could even have ended up going home w/ Chelsea to her parents'. But here? What was there here?
"My parents' house for the night," I said at last. Hotels were too isolated, so it was the only choice really.
Morelli nodded, stood up, then disappeared into the apartment. I looked at Ranger.
"I could put you in a safe house," he said, with some humor in his voice.
"Why? Have one you need tested?" His lips turned up in a hint of a smile. "No, but thanks anyway, Range. You've done more than enough for me, and I hate to impose on friends."
He arched an eyebrow but didn't comment on it. Instead he looked up as Morelli reappeared with a small duffle bag of what I assumed were some clothes and such. "I'll take you to your parents'," Ranger said.
"Okay," I nodded and took the duffle from Joe. "Thanks, Morelli," I told him. Joe's eyes narrowed as he looked back at Ranger, then he leaned in and kissed me on the forehead.
There it was again, that urge to kick him in the shin and run. I smiled at him and wondered what would happen when I gave in and did it.
The drive to Stephanie's parents' was quiet and uneventful- Ranger didn't even comment when I turned the radio to a pop music station and bopped along to the sweet thoughtless bubblegum sounds of Mandy Moore's Candy. I steadfastly ignored the odd sensation in my spine when Bowling for Soup's The Girl All the Bad Guys Want played. The lyrics didn't fit this life, but damned if the title wasn't made for it.
I said good night to Ranger and escaped without a kiss, just a brush of his knuckles against my neck and a playful tug on my hair. It had at least gotten me to smile.
Somehow the Burg grapevine had gotten to the house ahead of me, and for once Stephanie's mom didn't say anything. She just made me macaroni and cheese. I was touched, so I forced down a few bites and proceeded to do some artful pushing and prodding off the noodles around my plate so it looked like I had actually eaten.
I fell asleep on the couch, thinking longingly of Xanax and Tylenol PM. I kept dreaming, all night long. Images of home, of my parents and friends laughing and enjoying themselves, but I wasn't a part of it. I wasn't there, and it was like I never had been. I was outside, looking in through a window or a door, but they were closed, locked, and there was no way to get inside.
I raised my hand to bang on the glass, but somehow I just couldn't do it. Instead I turned and walked away, finding myself out front of Plum Bail Bonds. Vinnie wanted to know where I'd put the duck. And Ranger translated his words into Spanish for the benefit of Hector. I thought that was weird, since I hadn't met Hector yet.
My eyes flew open and I felt painfully awake. Ranger had said something in Spanish, back at the apartment... And I had mistranslated it. Asustes, not… the breath rushed out of my lungs and I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow to muffle the frustrated yell.
Janet Evanovich, when I get my hands on you… You devious, sneaky little… Damn it. I pulled the cover over my head and curled into a fetal position. I had specifically thought he wasn't- he didn't- Oh hell. This was going to take some massive restructuring…
And what about number 3? After tonight, I had to come up with a plan. The ghost of one was forming, but I didn't see any way it would work. Maybe if I just took it one day at a time, avoided getting kidnapped, and all that jazz. I might be able to buy myself time enough to work out the finer points…