Rangeman was abuzz with the information brought by Avalos, and Ranger busied himself on the fifth floor despite his formal leave of absence from work. I did the same since I was not one to miss out on the action. I ran to the break room to grab a sandwich and an apple, then settled into an empty chair in the control room near Tank. He didn't seem to mind. He gave me a polite nod, understanding my personal desire to see Fitch off the streets. The tension in the room was palpable as Tank called the Rangemen working in the field to find Fitch, updating them on the situation. When the calls were made, Tank sat perfectly still like stone, only his eyes moving from monitor to monitor. Other men crisscrossed the room talking, but Tank was statuesque.
I finished my lunch and sat cross-legged in the chair, my heart feeling as if it might beat out of my chest. I nearly jumped out of my seat when Tank spoke.
"They're here," he barked into the intercom.
I watched as Tank stood and lumbered toward the door. I jumped to my feet and followed.
He stopped and glanced over his shoulder at me. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. I followed him to the elevator, where Cal escorted two men in sportscoats off the elevator.
"These are agents Harker and Thomas," Cal said, gesturing at each.
"Follow me," Tank ordered, marching away from the elevator.
The agents didn't seem surprised by the cold greeting. I was guessing they'd already received at least one similar greeting upon entering the building.
The men obediently followed Tank down the hall, and I fell into step behind them. Ranger and Ximena were speaking quietly in front of the conference room door but stopped when we arrived.
"Steph," Ximena said, catching my attention with a wave of her hand. "Why don't you take these guys in to see her? She only seems inclined to cooperate for you."
I raised an eyebrow.
"That's frightening," I responded, deadpan.
Ximena laughed softly, but Ranger and Tank didn't look amused.
"Don't get your panties in a bunch," Ximena said to Ranger. "You want her to cooperate? This is how. She likes Steph; we give her Steph."
"Fine," I said, tightening my ponytail.
I circled around Tank, then turned to face the two FBI men.
"Which one of you is which? Thomas? Harker?" I asked.
The man in the blue sport coat responded, "Harker."
I nodded, then opened the conference room door.
Avalos was at the conference room table looking hopeful, a can of Coke and bag of pretzels opened in front of her. Her new cell phone was in her hand, and she was frantically typing into it, presumably texting with someone. Her demeanor had shifted entirely.
"Hey," I greeted in a friendly tone. "This is Agent Harker, and this is Agent Thomas," I said, gesturing to each man. "They're here to help."
Avalos gave them a timid wave, and I could see the agents studying her. They seemed uncertain as they took a seat at the conference table.
"I'll step out, but let me know if you need anything," I said, turning to leave.
"Please stay," Avalos said quietly.
I turned, and her eyes were pleading. I obliged, returning to the table and taking a seat next to her. Avalos began repeating what she'd told me earlier that day, and I let my mind wander as I watched her, thinking of Dickie.
Part of me wanted to slap Dickie for putting me in this situation. I'd experienced inexplicable trauma resulting from his shenanigans. My life would forever be subdivided into two parts: my life before my kidnapping and my life after. Sure, I'd experienced a lot of trauma in my work, but this experience took the cake. It made me doubt everything about my life, and it put an innocent unborn at serious risk. My child.
The other part of me was at peace, feeling relief with today's revelation. The slime-bag who I'd divorced before the ink dried on our marriage certificate died trying to help others. Sure, he'd been an idiot not going to the feds for protection, but he was trying to help women. How many? There was no way to know. I shuddered thinking about how many women may have been dragged into a life like Elena's at Fitch and Rhoad's hands. And Dickie had loved someone besides himself enough to establish a plan to care for and support her when he knew his life could be at risk, setting aside his pride to include his estranged ex-wife he knew would be willing to help. A tear rolled down my cheek, and I quickly brushed it away.
"Do you know where they are now?" I heard Thomas ask as he scribbled notes on his legal pad.
I watched Avalos as she nodded.
"They're laying low in a house in East Orange," she said confidently. "I've been there a few times. They usually keep girls there, especially the newer ones. Easy access to Interstate 80, where they move them."
"Can you give us an address?" he asked.
Avalos shook her head.
"No. But I can tell you a street name and description of the house."
"Please," he said, looking to her expectantly.
"It's on Prospect Street, near a big stadium," she explained. "Older two-story house. It's baby blue. Big trees in the yard. Detached garage."
Harker stood and removed his phone from his pocket. He left the room, and Thomas continued questioning Avalos. Minutes passed, and Harker didn't return. I began to feel nervous, like I was missing out on whatever was happening behind the door. I tried to focus on the questioning, and I eventually rose from my chair. Avalos and Thomas looked at me expectantly.
"I have to apologize, I need a minute," I explained. "I'm not feeling well."
Thomas nodded and turned his attention back to Avalos, but she didn't seem satisfied with the answer.
"I'll be back in a few minutes, I promise," I said, placing my palm on the back of her hand reassuringly. "Do you need anything?"
Seeming satisfied with that, and she declined my offer. I exited the room and headed for Ranger's office, surprised at how quiet the floor had become. I peeked my head into his office, surprised to find it empty.
"Ranger?" I asked, pacing back out onto the floor.
I received no response and headed for the control room. Tank was gone, and in his place was Lester. A smaller man I didn't know wearing black fatigues sat typing on a laptop nearby.
"Hey Beautiful," greeted Lester with a wide grin.
"Where is Ranger?" I asked nervously.
"He's gone," Lester said. "He and Tank headed out."
"Out?" I said, my volume rising. "What do you mean? Out?"
"Hector was able to ping a phone that had been used to communicate regularly with Avalos somewhere in East Orange. Ranger and Tank took a crew to check it out."
I felt heat rise in my cheeks as anger filled my chest. I feared Ranger was going for vigilante justice, and that didn't sit well with me. I had suspicions he'd done things similar for me in the past, and I'd tried to brush those things off—but those attempts had remained unsuccessful, the small voice in my mind a constant reminder he had dark secrets. Plus, Ranger was on a leave of absence, yet he was out being Rambo, leaving me without a parting word. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and called him.
He didn't answer.
I dialed him again.
Still no answer.
He was a smart guy. He knew I was pissed.
I whipped out my cell phone and sent Ranger a text.
You're supposed to be on leave. You know you're a dead man, right?
"How long ago did he leave?" I asked Lester.
"Eh, maybe twenty minutes ago."
"Twenty minutes!" I shouted.
The ping confirmed what Avalos had said, but Rangeman had known and acted on this information first because of the cell phone she'd carried.
"Don't shoot the messenger," Lester said, typing a command into the main control room computer system.
"Where is he?" I asked, staring over Lester's shoulder.
Lester studied the computer monitor.
"Looks like he's near Winfield."
"Jesus Christ! Is he flying?" I shouted, taking off for the door.
"Hey, you're not going anywhere," Lester shouted after me.
He continued to shout, but I was too far away to hear him as I raced for the stairs. I took the steps two at a time, departing the stairwell in the parking garage. I had no idea what I thought I'd be able to contribute to this ordeal, and I had no way of catching up to Ranger before he got to Fitch. However, sitting at Rangeman knowing this was happening without me was not sitting well.
I tore a set of keys out of my pocket and realized they belonged to Ranger's Cayenne. I hopped in, turned over the engine, and went racing for the garage entrance. I tried to fob my way out, but the gate didn't open. My fob wouldn't work.
I tried it again.
Nothing.
I expelled a bunch of angry air, then I called the control room.
"Let me out," I demanded.
"Sorry beautiful, I can't…"
"Now," I interrupted. "Or I will ram my way out."
"Don't be crazy, Steph," Lester said, disconnecting.
The gate didn't rise, and I felt rage rise in me.
Why did Ranger think it was okay to go without me, much less go at all?
I backed up the Cayenne and revved the engine, knowing full well that I was being watched on the security cameras. In response, my phone buzzed.
The text from Lester read, Don't do it.
I shifted the car from neutral into drive and hit the gas, lightly bumping the gate. I heard scratching sounds as the bumper made contact, but it didn't budge.
"Shit, piss, sonuvabitch!" I grumbled, throwing the Cayenne into reverse and backing away from the gate.
I saw Ximena racing out of the stairwell in my rear-view mirror.
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" she shouted, waving her arms.
I threw the SUV into drive again and hit the gas, hitting the gate with more force. The gate trembled with the impact, then the airbags deployed.
The wind was knocked out of me temporarily, and I gasped for air, beating back the airbag as it slowly deflated. My door was wrenched open, and Ximena glared in at me.
"You've lost your fucking mind," she said angrily, reaching into the car and unbuckling me. She dragged me out of my car and to my feet. "Are you trying to have a miscarriage?" she shouted, wrapping me in a tight hug.
Her words took the air out of my sails. I hadn't once given thought to the potential consequences of ramming through the gate.
"Are you okay?" she asked, looking me up and down. "Do you hurt? I love you, chica, but you've got to get a grip. You're hormonal, pregnant, and acting totally irrationally. If you don't chill out, I'm going to have to order a psych evaluation."
"He left without me!" I shouted at Ximena, feeling my face flush with frustration.
Angry tears leaked from my eyes, and I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Are you okay?" she repeated.
"I'm fine," I choked, scowling.
"Let's get you upstairs and check you out," she said, placing a hand on my back and leading me forward. "It's not good for you or the baby to get worked up like this. The baby is already under a lot of stress with this detox. You've got to pull it together and protect both of you, Steph."
Peppered with guilt, I let the rest of my anger bleed into frustration and self-resentment, and I let my tears fall silently as Ximena led me to the elevator.
As we rode the elevator, my phone buzzed. I checked the readout. It was Ranger.
"I'm dead," said Ximena, her head falling in defeat. "It's been good knowing you."
I sighed and pressed the accept button.
"How dare you leave without telling me," I accused, my voice thick with malice.
"Babe," came the voice on the other end.
With that, I broke into loud sobs.
"I heard you did a number to my Cayenne," Ranger said.
I didn't respond.
"Feel better now?" he asked, his voice betraying mild amusement.
"No," I groaned, feeling foolish.
A few beats of silence sat between us.
"Don't kill anybody," I said, my voice firm.
He didn't respond. Ximena looked like she'd sucked on a lemon.
"I'm serious," I said as the elevator doors opened to the seventh floor. "I don't want you killing them as some type of vigilante revenge in the name of your family. Let law enforcement do their job. Hunt them down like dogs if you want but keep this off your conscience and away from your karma."
I fobbed my way into the apartment, and Ximena followed.
"Okay," came Rangers voice over the line, his tone unexpectedly soft.
"Be safe, you stubborn ass," I said, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.
I heard Ranger expel some air. I swear it sounded like it sounded like laughter.
"Rest," he said. "Take good care of Baby Guppy. And please be nice to my cars. I love you."
"Love you too."
Twenty minutes later, Ximena had determined that I would live but declared me to be dumb as shit. I was disappointed to admit she wasn't entirely wrong. I was banished to the couch, Ximena kindly offering to give me a play-by-play as everything went down. I rested my head on the back of the couch and studied the ceiling as she went to her office to grab her laptop. I placed a hand on my abdomen and said hundreds of silent apologies to the life growing within me, promising to take better care of its welfare.
The door opened and closed, and Ximena appeared with her laptop. I was surprised to see she had company with her.
"Hi, Elena," I said in greeting.
"Hope you don't mind," Ximena said, flopping into a chair and opening her laptop. "She needed a break. I told her you were up here resting."
"I don't mind," I said, gesturing to the couch. "Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything?"
"I'm okay, but I do need a bathroom," she said.
"No problem," I said, standing. "I'll show you."
I showed her into the master bathroom, and her eyes lit up when she saw Ranger's glorious shower.
"This is yours?" she asked quietly.
"Eh, not exactly," I said awkwardly. "Do you want to try it?"
"No," she said too quickly. "Sorry, I wasn't…"
"Seriously, would you like to shower?" I asked, scanning her disheveled form.
She thought for a moment.
"Honestly, I'd really like that. Thanks."
"I'll go grab you something to wear while you go to the bathroom," I said.
I was halfway out the door when I heard her speak.
"Stephanie?"
I turned.
"Yeah?"
She gave me a nervous smile.
"Thanks for being so nice to me. Dickie was the only person who had treated me this well for a long, long time."
She looked sad, but her face showed the truth behind her words. I crossed to her and wrapped her in a tight hug, and she returned it.
"We're going to get through this together," I said. "We've got this."