13.

I was early for work the next morning, so I stopped at the bakery to pick up a couple dozen doughnuts. I was still feeling weird about the guys seeing me in my drunken stupidity over the weekend and I thought maybe I could bribe them with sweets.

I walked through the office and set the doughnuts on the counter. I grabbed a magic marker and wrote Eat Me on the bakery box and added a smiley face before snatching a Boston Crème for myself.

I felt kind of sorry for the Merry Men. Ranger was very good at a lot of things, but the man knew nothing about eating. He kept the office refrigerator stocked with fresh vegetables and high protein lunch meat. Not that I didn't appreciate the effect my healthy lunches were having on my waistline, but lunch just isn't the same without a cream filled brownie for dessert. Rangeman employees were responsible for smuggling in their own cheese doodles and snack cakes.

I sat down at my desk and looked at my IN box. It was pretty full, so I started on my background searches for the day. By the time lunch rolled around, my eyes were glazed over and I was debating the merits of going back to skip tracing.

I got up and stretched a little before walking over to the kitchen area to make a sandwich. All of the men looked up and smiled at me. Behold, the power of doughnuts.

I returned to my desk with a turkey sandwich and a bottle of apple juice. It was good, but it needed something. French fries would be nice, or potato chips. I finished my lunch and set myself in for another round of eye-glazing activity.

Ranger called later that afternoon. "Yo."

"Yo yourself."

"Are you ready to shop for that new dress?"

"I've got one more search to finish and then I'm free for the afternoon."

"Good. Go ahead and head out to the mall when you're done. I'll have Tank ready to meet you there around 3 to pay with a company credit card."

"You could always just give me the credit card."

"Babe, I know what kind of damage you could do with a credit card. We need to order uniforms for the rest of the team, anyway." How sad is that? Ranger trusted me with a gun before he trusted me with his credit card.

"What kind of party is this, so I know what kind of a dress to wear?"

"Not your average job." In other words, I shouldn't dress like a streetwalker. "The invitation says black tie, so I would suggest a gown." There was silence for a few seconds before he continued. "Maybe something black, low cut with those long slits up the side."

I rolled my eyes. "Anything else?"

"Would you like to hear my suggestions for underwear?"

"Not right now." Not ever. I stayed in Ranger's apartment a while back, and after a snooping spree I only found one pair of boxer shorts. I'm pretty sure Ranger's suggestion would be along the lines of no underwear at all. "I'll try to have something picked out by three."


I arrived at the mall and started my search for a gown in Macy's. I had called Lula for reinforcement and she was going to arrive at any moment. I wasn't sure how much she knew about dressing for a black tie event, but she could spot the perfect pair of shoes from a mile away.

When Lula arrived, I had already browsed the formalwear section and hadn't found anything remotely appealing. We decided we'd have better luck in the bridal store.

We walked past the bridal gowns on our way to the evening wear section of the store, when I suddenly got these weird feelings. They were pangs in the bottom of my stomach. Regret, I thought to myself, and sadness. I missed Morelli. I had a sinking suspicion that maybe my mother was right and Morelli was my only chance at a normal Burg life. My antics were legendary in the Burg now. No sane man would want to marry me.

"You look like there's a whole conversation going on inside your head." Lula said.

"Just thinking about my wedding, or lack of one."

"Morelli wanted to marry you."

"I couldn't marry Morelli. After the wedding, he would probably lock me up in the house and make me learn how to cook." I felt my chest tighten at the thought of owning an apron and clipping coupons. "He and I are too much alike, anyway. Probably we'd end up murdering each other."

"What about Ranger?"

I tried to stifle a laugh. "Ranger's not the marrying type." I tried hard to visualize Ranger in a tuxedo, waiting for me at the front of a church but kept imaging him in cargo pants and combat boots. "He always carries at least two guns and a knife and speaks in two syllable sentences. Ranger wouldn't marry a person like me, anyway. He needs someone like Catwoman, someone like Jeanne Ellen."

"Maybe he doesn't want to be with her for the same reason you don't want to marry Morelli, they're too much alike. Where's the fun in that?" I furrowed my brow, so she explained further. "The way I see it, Ranger is like a superhero; he feels the need to rescue people. You think Jeanne Ellen's skinny ass ever needs rescued? Hell no. But you, well, he'll never get bored with you. You need rescued all the time."

"I'm tired of being rescued. I want to fight the bad guys myself."

"You're one tough cookie, but even the best bounty hunters couldn't defend themselves against the bad guys who came after you. Ain't no shame in asking for a little help sometimes. You're like a walking sicko magnet. Any mentally unstable person takes a look at you, and they go right off the deep end. You just have that effect on people."

She was right. I drove everyone nuts. My mother, Morelli, the entire Trenton police force, and various other psycho nut cases and stalkers. Ranger thought I was fun, though. I guess his idea of a good time is getting his car blown up or getting shot at.

Lula broke my inner dialogue. "What price range are we looking at?" she asked as she looked through the racks of gowns.

"Money is no object. It's a business expense."

"Any open positions over at Rangeman? The only business expense Vinnie will approve is doughnuts once a week. And I wouldn't mind working with that bunch of grade a man beef. How do you keep yourself from jumping on them?"

"I'll look into any open positions." Or not. "As for your second question, I eat a lot of doughnuts."

I was absently flipping through gowns when one caught my eye. I held it up to get a better look.

"That dress is the shit." Lula said.

The gown was gorgeous. It had a high neckline, but the back was totally exposed. It was black, with very light sequins that only sparkled when the light touched it just right. The gown was ankle length, with a long slit on one side going all the way up to my hip. Lula was right, this is the dress.

I had the sales clerk hold it for me until Tank could come and pay for it with the Rangeman plastic. We were on our way to start shoe hunting.


We walked past the Stuart Weitzman store and Lula dragged me in. I had about thirty seconds worth of guilt feelings about picking out $300 shoes, but they were quickly subsided by the excitement of being able to wear $300 shoes. This job suddenly didn't seem so bad, actually it seemed pretty good.

It was getting dangerously close to 3, so I settled on a pair of 4 inch strappy heels and a small black leather handbag.

Bobby called a few minutes later.

"What's your 20?" No hey, how's it going. These guys got right down to business.

I gave him our coordinates and disconnected.

"Who was that? Was that Tank?"

"That was Bobby, but I think Tank might be with him."

"Tank? Ohmygod. How's my hair?" Lula dug her compact out of her purse and fixed her hair and checked to see if she had any food in her teeth.

I popped my head out of the store and spied them coming towards us. They were decked out in Rangeman black, and I was pretty sure they were armed. Didn't these guys ever relax? It was just a trip to the mall, but I guess if I was assigned to be anywhere around me I would probably want to be armed, too. With me, a Sunday trip to the mall could easily turn into a disaster of epic proportions.

Lula and I watched as the two scary men walked towards us. People were ducking into stores to avoid them, children were holding onto their mother's legs for dear life, single women were walking into walls ogling them.

Bobby and Tank gave us a small nod of acknowledgement and Tank greeted us with a simple "Ladies." Lula looked like she was about to melt. It was amazing how one word could have such an effect on such a big woman.

"Geez, do you guys always shop armed?" I asked.

"You never know." Tank replied. You never know, shopping with me I think he meant. His eyes trailed down the shoes and handbag I was holding. "Shoes? Our orders are to purchase one formal evening gown."

"I picked one out. It's waiting for us at another store. The shoes and purse match."

Bobby examined the handbag at arm's length like it was a bomb. "This isn't big enough to hold your gun."

"Yes, but it's cute and it matches the shoes." How could they argue with that reasoning? I guess they agreed with me because they looked at each other with raised their eyebrows before they proceeded to the checkout counter.

When they turned their backs to us, Lula fanned herself. It looked like she was having a hot flash.

They followed Lula and I back to the bridal store. The guys looked way out of their element surrounded by wedding gowns and lace. Tank and Bobby charged my gown and carried my bags for me.

Lula and I said our goodbyes and she waved to the guys before sashaying to her car.