By dinnertime I had done one complete in-depth review. It was slower going than with the average person, just because there was so much to discover. Aaron Cloyne was the first person that I researched. He had previously been arrested for pimping, possession, dealing, another pimping charge, assault, fraud, rape, dealing again, and a second assault charge. The last assault charge he skipped bail on, and I made note of that. Vinnie, my cousin, managed a bail bonds business, and since I was the bounty hunter that he had used for years, I knew how difficult it was for the bail bonds owners when they were out the money associated with skips not re-entering the system. Aaron had made a habit of skipping bail and, when he was captured, he acted like other people were in the wrong by taking him into the station.

By the time I had finished researching him, I was thoroughly disgusted. Between his previous criminal charges, his frequent viewings of snuff videos, and his tendency to not take responsibility for his own actions, he was not what I'd call a fine, upstanding citizen. I looked at his picture again. He looked like Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel from The Simpsons – a loser that lacked Cletus's good-natured personality, and instead was vicious and disgusting in equal amounts, pond scum that quite frankly didn't deserve to live. I was immediately glad that Hector was the person selected to be the face of the investigation. While Hector didn't look dirty or like scum, with his bald head, his tats and his muscles he did look intimidating and dangerous. Hopefully pond scum felt threatened by a bigger predator than them and Hector looked like the biggest predator of all. I wished that I could see the asshole scared by Hector, and I thought that I'd have to ask Hector for a play-by-play afterwards.

For years, I had been terrified of Hector. It took me a long time before I was comfortable remaining in the same room as him, and that was with other people there to act as a buffer. Without that buffer, I would take a detour to avoid him in the halls. After all, as a bounty hunter I'd had skips like that in the past, and I usually ended up handing them to Rangeman to pick up. I knew from experience that they were a little more than I could handle. First of all, they always lived on Stark, which meant that my car would be stolen or torched or shot out with a hundred bullet holes while I was picking up the skip – and often, my car was treated with all three. It got decimated so often, in fact, that the guys at Rangeman had started a pool and people bet on the time and date of the next incapacitation. People asked me daily whether I was scheduled to go to Stark that day. The time was important, as it wasn't uncommon for me to destroy two and sometimes three vehicles in a day. Betting on my car's demise was a popular activity around the office and the winner often won quite a bit of money. In fact, when the guys brought out a replacement vehicle for me, they wouldn't let me leave until they had placed their next bets. I'd had people offer me money to go out of the office on certain days. Since the money that they offered me was quite significant, it showed me how much money people were making by my car catastrophes.

At one of my last car catastrophes, Ranger encouraged me to stop buying cars and instead just use a fleet car. Unlike my cars, his were eligible for insurance. It made me feel a little odd before we were married, but now that Ranger and I were married I'd accepted it. It was just as well. I thought I might have gone through the entire pool of suitable and cheap cars available in Trenton over the last few years. Since I had become a bounty hunter, I thought I might have gone through about two hundred cars – of my own. That number went up astronomically when you also considered all the cars of Ranger's that I had compacted/torched/blown up. I was on first-name basis with all the used car lot staff in Trenton. I still got Christmas cards from many of them, and now that I was no longer buying cars I had received several "missing you" and "wish you were here" cards.

When I picked up skips who looked as tough as Aaron, they often thought that I was a new prostitute who was coming for a job interview. I don't know why. I purposely didn't pick sexy clothes and I don't know what they found appealing in my usual outfit of jeans, a t-shirt and Converse. However, for some reason the skips thought I was there to rock their world. When I did my pickup with Lula, retired 'ho, good friend and assistant bounty hunter, that assumption would have her adjusting her girls to make the most of her cleavage and, if the skip was attractive, I would have to pull Lula back as she entered the skip's apartment for her assessment. I had to keep reminding her that skips didn't pay for job interviews. They considered it a freebie. I could just tell that Aaron was one of those. Again, I was glad Hector would be dealing with him. Hector could make anyone shit their pants in fear.

It was only when Ranger told me Hector's very secret story that I started to become friends with him. Hector had technically never been a part of a gang. He had been a Special Forces soldier, did a couple of tours, and then found out that his cousin had been kidnapped and drugged by a gang until she became a sex slave. He had got the teardrop tats in an effort to blend in with the gang and, in doing that undercover work, he not only saved his cousin but single-handedly shut down one of the most unsavory gangs in Trenton. When Ranger heard what he'd done, he immediately offered Hector a job.

After I heard that, I took the time to get to know him and found out that Hector was a very kind and caring man, a true family man, a man who loved people with a passion. He adored babies and animals, was kind to elderly people, mentored a couple of at-risk teens, and tutored a grade three child who didn't know how to read. This was the same person that, both times that Ranger and I announced our pregnancies, Hector immediately went out to purchase adorable little sleepers and socks and hats and bashfully brought them in to give to us. It still melted my heart to think of a tough guy like him, bald, tattooed and muscular, haunting the baby section to buy socks the same size as his thumb and holding sleepers up to his cheek to judge their softness against a baby's delicate skin. As I got to know him, he had become one of my favorite people and I had a lot of respect for him.

When Ranger first hired him, he didn't have a position available for Hector to fill. Since Hector had been the electronics expert on his Delta Force team, Hector filled in doing installs on security systems. Hector did well at that, but he was hoping to get a position that was a little more challenging. Ranger switched him to a combination of patrol and ERT, and Hector excelled at that as well. However, when a position opened up in the Investigative department, Ranger asked Hector if he'd be interested. Hector jumped at the chance. Apparently through working to find and save his cousin, Hector had discovered a love for investigative work. Ranger transferred Hector into the department and Hector had been thrilled to be there ever since. I had worked with him quite a few times since he had started with Cal's group, and I had always been grateful that he had joined the Rangeman team. He was smart, analytical, intuitive, and dedicated to solving the cases. He was a good person to have on the team. And those teardrop tats? We'd used them several times. Apparently, I wasn't the only person nervous around them, and people typically spilled their secrets when they saw Hector's tats and the flexing of his muscles.

As I finished reviewing my report on Aaron, Cal came in to report on his attempted conversation with Todd. Unfortunately, he was on holiday and would not be back until the end of the week. He had flown to Denver for a friend's wedding.

Just as Cal finished giving me an update, Ranger came in with several bags of food and three munchkins in tow. They ran into my office and jumped up on my lap as Ranger went into the boardroom to open up the containers of food and put out plates and cutlery. I kissed each of the girls and gave them hugs.

Ranger and I had four children. Tia was three, fun-loving, a little ball of sunshine who always had a smile on her face. She was full of energy and, although she was well-behaved, she always had a spot of mischief in her eyes. That usually came out in her quick sense of humor. She was bright and sparkly and full of bubbles and I often thought that, if she had been a drink, she'd be a glass of champagne. Grace, two, was the most caring person that I had ever met. She hated it when people were upset and, if she saw you crying, she would do whatever she could to make you feel better, whether that was a hug or a kiss or getting you something to help. She loved people and would cuddle anybody. I had even seen her cuddle homeless teens and ask them about their lives – and she was interested in the responses. Because she cared so much, she could bring a smile to anybody's face. If she was a drink, she would be a comforting cup of herbal tea, something meant to soothe anxiety and physical discomforts. Alix, also two, was Grace's fraternal twin. Like Grace, she cared deeply about people, but was more reticent and quieter in personality than her sisters. She was the kind of person that would sit with her back against the wall and observe life, always thinking about what she was seeing. Like her sisters, she had an excellent sense of humor, but her humor was drier and she delivered her lines with a straight face and twinkling eyes. If she was a drink, she would be a complex glass of red, deep and full-bodied. They were three of our four children and were the youngest, and we adored them just as much as we adored their older sister.

Their older sister was my stepdaughter, Julie. She was eighteen and attending UPenn, and was brilliant, beautiful, athletic, and one of the nicest people that I had ever met. We looked forward to spending time with her and it wasn't just Ranger and me. The little ones were equally as excited to see her and, when she walked in the door, three pint-sized dynamos would come running from wherever they were in the house and jump on her in enthused abandon. Julie looked forward to that, and she dropped her bags and captured her sisters, gave them smacking kisses, and basically made a fuss out of each one. The kids idolized Julie. Alix especially wanted to be just like her when she got older. We were happy about that and thought that Alix couldn't have a better role model in her life.

We usually saw Julie once or twice a month and I emailed with her nearly every day. Although I was technically a stepparent, Julie had never treated me as such. Julie had told me in the past that she felt blessed to have four parents that she loved and respected, people that instead of fighting over her had decided to adopt the other set of parents into their inner family. We got along with Rachel and Ron so well, in fact, that we visited each other a handful of times in the year and I emailed with Rachel once every week or two. She had become a good friend and I enjoyed spending time with her.

We were lucky in that Julie spent the summers with us, and had ever since I married Ranger. This past summer we had given Julie a job in my Research Department. Julie had enjoyed the work immensely and had loved earning a salary and having something to do beyond playing with her sisters, something that tested her brain and developed her analytical abilities. She excelled in the role, and Dirk and Miguel were sorry when she went back to school. They have already asked her to think about returning next summer. She was a natural at doing the work and, to be honest, I enjoyed the extra time with her. She wanted to be an FBI agent when she graduated from school, but Dirk and Miguel were pushing hard to have her join the Research Department full-time instead.

Julie was in her second year of doing Criminology at UPenn. She planned on going to law school afterwards, before applying at the FBI. She had mapped out her education and tailored it to leading into her career. To help with her application to the FBI, Julie volunteered in high schools to talk to students about the dangers of internet and physical stalking, and what people could do about it. She paired those talks with lessons for teenaged girls to teach them some simple self-defense moves to help protect themselves. In her spare time, she volunteered at the food bank. Despite Ranger's recommendation to take fewer courses to account for the time she spent doing her volunteer work and to do her undergraduate degree over five or six years rather than the standard four, Julie had chosen to still do a full load at school. She worked incredibly hard and was determined to do her best, and was earning a 4.0 GPA in school. She seemed able to balance everything – and was happy with where she was in her life. We were very proud of her and her desire to help people. She was a good person.

Julie had enjoyed teaching her little sisters some moves over the summer that they could do to protect themselves. The kids were fascinated and felt empowered, and they looked forward to their daily lessons with Julie. Those lessons came in handy when the kids were grabbed during the summer by two criminals who had entered the house we were renting and held the girls hostage to try to force us to do something we didn't want to do. Between Julie and the little ones, the four girls worked together to disable the intruders. By the time Ranger got there minutes later, the little ones had attacked the intruders and got themselves free, and Julie had incapacitated them, disarmed them, and made sure that they wouldn't be able to get away. Ranger was grateful to all four of them. As he told Julie, without her lessons and without her attack, the only thing that Ranger would have been able to do would be to shoot the intruders with kill shots – and that would have given the little ones nightmares, would have exacerbated his PTSD, would have stopped them from getting the helpful information that they did and, most importantly, would have killed two people. The toddlers were still proud of the fact that they took two adults down and thankfully that feeling of empowerment that Julie gave them made them feel less like victims. Despite the traumatic experience, their success had stopped the toddlers from having nightmares. It didn't stop ours, but it did stop theirs.

Dirk and Miguel had celebrated the girls' first takedown by getting shirts made with a picture of a devil in a tutu and the word "she-devil" underneath. Dirk's wife was a graphic artist and had done an excellent job on them, and they were the girls' favorite shirts to wear. Julie loved hers just as much as the toddlers did. She often wore it when she came for the weekend, and the children got very excited to see her wearing it when she arrived. They got even more excited if they were wearing their shirts at the same time, and were quick to tell everyone that they matched. Just in case Julie was wearing her shirt, in fact, the three little ones would change into theirs right before she arrived.

I gave the three little ones kisses and hugs, asked them how their day was, and listened as they enthusiastically told me that Auntie Tracy was going to be staying overnight. "Bob too", said Alix excitedly. She loved dogs with a passion, and she and Bob were best friends. She had been asking for her own dog for some time and, when she was older and able to care for a dog on her own, we might consider it. However, in the meantime it wasn't something that Ranger and I were interested in. It was just a little more commitment than we were willing to give. As I said to Ranger, I didn't pick up poop. I mean, if I could train the dog to use a toilet, I'd get a dog. Since that was impossible, my interest in having a dog was non-existent.

Bob was Tracy and Joe's loveable, oversized, shaggy golden retriever. He drooled, he licked, he shed, he ate everything, and despite all that I loved him very much. He was originally my dog but Joe quickly inherited him and, through it, I discovered that I was a far better dog-friend than a dog-owner. It didn't matter how much I loved the dog. It was too much responsibility for me. Once I realized that I would have to get out of bed earlier in the day to give me time to walk him before work, I quickly discovered that although I loved the dog, I didn't love the dog more than I loved sleep. Since Alix loved her bed just as much as I did, I wasn't exactly sure how it would work when she had her own dog. I just knew that, although I had resigned myself to the idea that there was a dog in our future, I wasn't willing to assume responsibility for it myself.

And I was only resigning myself to one dog. Alix loved all dogs, and I could easily see her owning a kennel when she was older. She seemed to love everything that was soft and had a tail, and when we walked down the street she had to stop and talk to all the dogs she saw. She had to give them all hugs and kisses and pat their heads. She seemed to have a way with them – but I was still putting my foot down and limiting our future dog ownership to one. Since Alix was incredibly stubborn and determined, I could see a number of arguments in our future.

"Is Auntie Tracy coming for dinner?" I asked.

"No", said Tia. "Uncle Joe is bringing some dinner to our place for her."

"Dada gave Annie Tay-Tay candles", said Grace. "Why?"

"Eating dinner over candlelight is relaxing, and I'm sure that Daddy wanted Auntie Tracy to relax before looking after you monsters for the evening."

"Me no monster", said Alix.

"I'm a monster", said Tia with a grin. She swiped her fingers through the air and growled. "I'm a scary monster."

"What is your scary monster name?" I said with a smile.

"Cuddles", said Tia with a laugh.

"Me dog", said Alix. Her eyes twinkled with joy. "Woof, woof."

"What is your dog name?" I asked.

"Ruff-us", said Alix with a giggle.

"Not Woofrid?" I said. She giggled again. I turned to Grace. "If Alix is a dog and Tia is a monster, what are you?"

Grace grinned. "Me fish", she said. She pressed in her cheeks and opened and closed her mouth like a fish as I laughed.

"What is your fish name?"

"Bubbles."

I smiled. "It is nice to see you three. I missed you today."

"Dada said we have picnic", said Grace. She hopped up and down. "Dada said Ethan and Evan and Edie come for seepover."

"That's true, and after dinner Auntie Tracy is going to look after you. Auntie Tracy and Uncle Joe are going to sleep in Julie's room tonight."

"Bob stay?" said Alix. She grinned. "Bob stay my bed? Pease?"

I laughed. "I don't know where Bob will want to stay. He might think that you snore too loud for him to share your bed."

"I no snore", said Alix.

"Okay, then you might think that Bob snores too loud for you to share your bed with him."

Alix laughed. "Bob snore loud."

"I know", I said. "He has a little snort to it as well. And sometimes, if you listen really carefully, you can hear him whistle as he snores."

Alix laughed again.

I stood up and walked with the girls into the boardroom. Dirk and Miguel were already there helping Ranger take all the lids off the containers. "My God!" I said. "Did you leave any food at the restaurant?"

Ranger smiled self-consciously. "I had a problem choosing. I mean, I picked Pad Thai because I know that you like that, and I picked Cashew Chicken because I know that Tia likes that, and I picked Basil Chicken because I know that Grace likes that, and I picked Sesame Chicken because I know that Alix likes that, and then I picked another fifteen dishes because they sounded good and, well, this was the result. I'm just going to pop my head in to see if Cal and Hector are hungry. I think we have enough here to feed them too."

I laughed. "Just them too? I think we have enough to feed the whole floor – and maybe even the whole building." Ranger laughed as I smiled softly at him. "Thank you for doing that."

Nick walked in with his kids, and Grace immediately got up and gave them all hugs and kisses.

"It's a good thing you were able to come", I said. "Ranger couldn't decide what to get when he went to the restaurant, so he got a LOT of food. I hope you are hungry."

"I'm so hungry I could eat a horse", said Ethan.

"Oh no", I said as I bit my lip. "I don't think Ranger bought any horse. You'll have to be happy with rice and noodles and chicken and vegetables and things. I'm sorry, Ethan. We'll keep our eyes peeled for horse for you next time."

Ethan laughed. "People don't actually eat horse, Steph", he said.

"Actually", said Ranger as he walked back in the room with Cal and Hector following him, "there are some areas of the world that people do eat horse, and you can find it in the local grocery stores there."

Ethan stared at Ranger, his mouth open. "That's sick", he said finally.

Ranger laughed. "I've heard it is quite tasty. A little bit sweet, but also a little bit like beef or venison. It isn't something that I have ever considered cooking before, but that's because I am from an American culture and eat American foods. Horse is served in lots of countries and is considered as normal a meat as beef or chicken, but it isn't normal to eat in the States."

Ethan thought about that for a moment. "I don't think I ever want to leave the States."

I laughed. Ethan loved horses just as much as my niece Mary Alice loved horses. The difference, however, is that Mary Alice loved horses so much that for years she had thought that she was a horse. It was a hard realization for her now that she knew she wasn't. However, it was a good realization. She was now in grade eleven, and it would have been a little weird if she was still stomping her hooves and throwing her mane around whenever she was angry, and neighing whenever she was introduced to someone. After all, when she was six, it was cute. By the time that she was sixteen, however? That was just plain weird.

Ethan didn't think he was a horse, but he had informed me that they were the most amazing animals of them all. He particularly liked the war horses and was fascinated with the story about Sergeant Reckless. Christmas was in another three weeks, and I had found his Christmas present over two months ago. We had bought him a wooden model kit of Sergeant Reckless. I knew that he would love his present, and I could hardly wait until he opened it up.

At the end of the summer, Nick had taken the kids to the horse races to see them run. Apparently, Ethan had been fascinated. The next time I saw him, I asked him what he would have called the horse if he had owned one. His answer? "Eat My Dust." Apparently he envisioned his horse to be fast. I know my grandmother had taken my sister and me to the horse races when we were little, and I was equally as fascinated with the animals. My favorite was the horse called "Raise Your Skirts", and I'd had a grand time cheering her on. People around us thought it was very funny to see a pint-sized child screaming "Raise Your Skirts. Raise them high. Show your legs." When she came dead last, someone still gave us money just for the entertainment value that they got from hearing me scream so enthusiastically. My grandmother used that money to take us out for ice cream after the races. That money, in fact, was the only money that I had won that day and although I liked the ice cream, I didn't understand why I had to share my prize with my sister.