Please excuse any mistakes. As I mention at the start of this story, it was written in 2002 and I don't think I've read it since then. I haven't grown as an a writer as I'm not one.

Chapter 3:

Khari stood outside of the county morgue his body bathed in a cold sweat. This was not good, he had yet to see a body and the idea of seeing one was giving him a panic attack. He took a deep breath. There were people counting on him and he couldn't let them down. More importantly, he'd had a nagging suspicion that it had all been a big mistake. Ranger wasn't really dead, he couldn't be. He took another deep breath and opened the door before he lost his nerve again.

He stood in the white tiled entryway and took another deep breath. So far so good. He stared at the floor. It needs a good wash, he thought in an effort to distract himself from the task at hand. He forced his feet to move him to the information desk. The young receptionist smiled up at Khari shyly.

"May I help you?" her eyes skimmed his strong chest and broad shoulders. How can she be so casual working with dead bodies? He wondered. Easy. She's above ground and they're…he turned and rushed toward the glass doors. He mumbled an apology as he pushed past someone entering the building. Once outside he took deep gulps of fresh air calming himself.

"Are you okay?" Khari turned to see the woman that he had pushed past had followed him out. He smiled weakly hanging his head in shame.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to run into you. I hope that you're okay."

"I'm fine but you look preoccupied are you Mr. Kaplan?" she asked smiling brightly. She had a nice face framed by dark silky looking curls. Her skin wasn't so dark as his. Her exotic looks led him to believe that she was of some Middle Eastern descent.

"I am. You must be Dr. Houdra?" He remembered that he was supposed to meet the forensic pathologist in the lobby so that she could escort him to the inner recesses of the morgue. She nodded. "I'm not sure that I can go through with this."

"Why not?" she asked. She has nice eyes, he though staring into their brown depths. She wasn't laughing at him. She seemed really concerned. She would laugh at him once she knew the real problem. Everyone thought that it was so funny that a man his size could be so afraid of a lifeless body. She wouldn't understand.

"What's your first name?" he asked. She laughed.

"Nice dodge. It's Aziza. What's yours?" He'd slid against the building to the ground and she settled next to him.

"Khari. Some people call me Tank." She smiled brightly.

"I wonder why." Her laugh was sharp but clear. "Were you close to Mr. Manoso?" Khari rubbed his face with his hands. Aziza watched him and sighed. She placed her small dark hand over his larger darker one. He took a long deep breathe before speaking.

"We've been friends since we were both kids. Whenever one of us got a job the other would soon be working at the same place. We went into the army together. He's been my boss for the last few years... not just my boss." he took another deep breathe. "He never treated me like I had to answer to him. He helped me and I helped him." Tears had started to roll down Khari's cheeks and Aziza removed the silk scarf that she was wearing and brushed them away.

"It'll be okay. I'll be there with you." He looked up surprised.

"That'll be nice."

"What apartment, Sir?" The doorman asked as he opened the door for Khari and Shiloh.

"I'm not sure of the number. I'm here to see Lester Santos. I'm Khari Kaplan and this is Miss. Page," Khari gestured absently to Shiloh. The doorman nodded and strode over to a phone.

"Miss. Page?" Shiloh laughed. "I feel like Moneypenny. " The doorman returned before Khari could throw back the witty response that he was almost sure that he could have thought up.

"You may go up. Mr. Santos is in Penthouse B." The doorman touched his hat and returned to his post. Khari moved to push the button to summon the elevator and then stopped.

"What's wrong?" Shiloh asked crossing her arms and rocking back on her heels.

"Maybe we should have called first?" he wondered. Shiloh sighed.

"We did call…. rather the doorman called. What are you worried about? I thought that you guys were good friends. Lester isn't going to think that there's anything odd about you visiting him." The impatience showed clearly on Shiloh's face. An uneasy feeling swept over Khari and then disappeared.

"Nice building." Shiloh looked around the mirrored lobby. "He must have landed on his feet after being fired." They were silent as they walked into the elevator car.

"He's a private bodyguard now, I think. He freelances for the famous. Mostly older and established Broadway actresses. He's been doing it for years so I kind of wondered why he'd want to take a steady job."

"Maybe he thought that he was getting too old for the human shield thing?" she observed as they exited the elevator. They found the door of Penthouse B standing open. Khari strode through the doorway and into the foyer.

"Les?" he called.

"Comin'," called a deep voice with a Brooklyn accent. Khari and Shiloh stepped through the neutrally decorated foyer into a dark but tastefully decorated living room.

"Sit down, I'll be right out," Lester called. Shiloh waited until Khari settled on a chair and then she sank into the overstuffed couch.

"I should have warned you," Khari said laughing. "You're never gonna be able to get up."

"Good thing I'm not wearing a…." she stopped mid sentence as Lester entered the room. He had a white towel around his neck that contrasted perfectly with his darkly defined chest. She could see why plenty of actresses would want him around. Lester noted her attention and started scrubbing his hair with the towel causing his stomach muscles to flex. Shiloh gasped.

"Who's your friend?" Lester asked. "You look familiar." He leaned casually toward Shiloh.

"Come on, Les, give her a break. This is Shiloh Page. She's a good friend of mine," Khari said laughing. Shiloh shook her head and turned toward Khari. If Lester didn't recognize Shiloh from Rangeman, he wouldn't correct him. Khari wanted Lester to think that this visit was casual.

"Hey, Bro, what's goin' on? You find anyone else to do that identification?" Lester settled next to Shiloh on the couch and ran his arm along the back. He looked her up and down and Shiloh felt her attraction to him melt away. He was a predator. She decided at that moment that if someone killed Ranger that it was Lester.

"Nah, I went myself," Khari said, his voice tight and nervous. Lester turned his attention from Shiloh.

"That's tough, man, sorry I couldn't be there for you. You know since this 9/11 shit I'm in demand. Even the guys on 'we need beer money' tours are calling for backup 'cause they think that some terrorist gives a rat's ass about them. Know what I'm sayin'? Can you believe fuckin' George Michael called me? All nervous after bein' robbed. They wanted to hit the asshole they would have done it while he was there. Good publicity to have someone guarding you. Makes you look like someone gives a damn." Lester leaned toward Shiloh. "I was on tour otherwise I wouldn't leave my man hangin'. How'd it go?"

"It was rough," Khari shrugged. He wanted desperately to change the subject. "Did you know that Ranger was taking steroids?"

"Didn't think he was the type but it sure as hell don't surprise me. The man was a big mofer. My momma would slap the shit out of me for speaking ill of the dead but the guy was fuckin' unbalanced enough to be on the heavy shit." Lester leaned back casually. Yep, he did it, Shiloh thought. She glanced at Khari to see if he had the same reaction. His face was a blank of casual friendliness.

"Who do you think inherits Rangeman?" Shiloh asked suddenly. Lester looked at her curiously suddenly seeming suspicious.

"Fuck if I know. Analise, I guess," he said thoughtfully. "Why you wanna know?"

"Well, if he was killed it would probably be the person who stood to benefit the most," Shiloh faltered.

"Who said he was killed?" Lester asked. He turned to Khari. Lester's face turned to a mask of rage. "What you really doin' here, Khari? You think that I fuckin' killed Ranger 'cause he treated my sister like shit and ignored my niece? 'Cause he treated us all like we owed him something?" Lester's voice was rising and Khari stood.

"I didn't say anything, Les. I do have some doubts that Ranger died accidentally but I never said that you killed him." He held up his hands in protest.

"Just so you know, chickie, we all hated that asshole but none of us killed him. He was a fool and got hooked on the hard stuff and killed himself. Now get the fuck out of my house," Lester growled. Khari hurried to the door, Shiloh trailing behind him. Lester slammed the door as soon as they exited and Shiloh and Khari hurried to the elevator.

"Holy shit," Shiloh breathed.

"No kidding," Khari agreed.

Joe stood outside the open door of Stephanie's office watching her go through drawers wearing rubber first aid gloves. He did not want to go in. She had asked him to probe into the investigation of Ranger's death and she would not like what he had found – or not found. He sighed and she looked up and smiled brightly.

"Joe!" She rushed over and kissed him careful not to touch him with the gloves. "This is going to take me forever. You would not believe some of the things that I found in Vinnie's drawers. I should just have this desk removed and get a new one." Joe chuckled.

"Sound's safer than what you're doing now. How 'bout you take a break and I buy you some lunch?" he asked.

"Sounds good. I could do with a break and you know I never pass on food. Can we go to Pino's?" He smiled at how her eyes were shining at the mention of her favorite pizza parlor. From what he heard Pino's had rats the size of small ponies but the pizza was beyond compare so the guys at the health department looked the other way.

Stephanie pulled the gloves off carefully and tossed them into the trash can.

"You driving?" she asked.

"Yea, I can." He made the sudden decision that it might be better to brave Stephanie's temper in a quieter place. "Can we talk first?"

"Sure," Stephanie said. Her expression had darkened and she looked worried.

"It's about Ranger," Joe said. Her expression cleared.

"What did you find out?" He sighed. Might as well cut to the chase.

"It's an accident, Steph, none of the guys are wanting it to be anything else." He could see her temper building.

"What?" Her voice was incredulous.

"You know how it is, Steph, a junkie kills himself and no one cares. He had a little of everything in his system. The steroid was methandrostenelone. That's a rare form of veterinary steroid that's injectable. He even had a drug from the Benzodiazepine class in his system." Joe rubbed Stephanie's arm as he spoke feeling it getting tenser.

"What was that second one?" she asked.

"Benzodiazepine is a drug class usually used to control seizures. Sometimes people use it when they have insomnia," Joe explained. He tried to keep his voice low and soothing. Stephanie stared blankly for a moment before speaking.

"Sleeping pills? Ranger had sleeping pills in his system?" she asked.

"Junkies will take anything, Steph." He said immediately thinking better of it. He expected her to blow at his calling Ranger a junkie. Instead she picked up her purse, cellphone and keys.

"I'm gonna have to take a rain check on lunch, Joe. I suddenly have something that I need to do. I'll see you at home tonight."

He watched as she left and hoped to hell that she wasn't doing anything that could get her killed.