Chapter 3

Ranger looked out the window of his apartment to the parking lot below. She was running late. Usually Cally pulled up into her assigned spot at 7:30. Today the silver Jeep pulled into its space at 7:35. He smiled as he watched her juggle a thermal coffee mug, a large purse and what looked suspiciously like a box of donuts. Damn, she reminded him of Stephanie, though other than the color of her eyes she in no way resembled her. And she was much younger than the Babe he'd met so many years ago. The resemblance was intangible, and yet it was real for him. Maybe it was her youthfulness, and her optimism. Hell, maybe it was her ponytail.

He'd pushed Stephanie out of his mind years ago. It was the only way he'd been able to function at first. And then it had become a habit. He felt the loss always, but he wouldn't let himself dwell on the memories. Running RangeMan had consumed him, but now there was no more RangeMan to run. Maybe that's what it was. Maybe his present situation was responsible, but whatever the cause he remembered Stephanie every time he looked at Cally.

Since the evening of their shared dinner she'd made it a habit to stop by frequently when her day was done. She'd told him more of her plans to become a doctor, and he'd listened with interest. She was emotionally fragile, which was to be expected as it had only been a few months since her life had been forever changed.

He continued to watch Cally's progress toward the door. She stopped to wait for Rob to catch up with her. Rob reached out an arm and laid it across Cally's shoulders. Ranger saw her laugh at something Rob said before she slipped free of his arm. They walked amicably until they disappeared from his sight under the portico seven stories below. It was easy to see her coworker was interested in her. Ranger felt a little sorry for the young man. Now that he understood Cally's situation, he knew Rob had little chance of winning her affection.

Without warning Ranger reached behind him and grasped the hand that was getting ready to encircle his neck.

"Shit," Tank exclaimed. "How'd you know I was here? I didn't make a sound."

"I'm an invalid," Ranger said, ignoring Tank's question. "Treat me with kindness."

"That's crap," Tank responded. "You're still the man. No one can get an advantage on you."

"The idiot that ploughed into me while I was running got one over on me," Ranger said dryly. "In fact, he got two over on me. Both a front and a back tire."

"Yeah," Tank agreed. "That was bad. But you're standing on your leg with only one crutch. You're doing better. And what are you doing standing anyway? It's a nice view, but I think you'd be used to looking at it by now."

"I was watching my physical therapist fend off an advance from her co-worker," Ranger said. "But they've gone into the building now. She was running late today."

"You watch her every day?" Tank asked. "Is that how you knew she was running late?"

Ranger nodded.

"That's kinda creepy, Rangeman. Like some weird Alfred Hitchcock Rear Window thing. I mean, you checking out the lives of the people around here. It's not like you."

"It may be creepy," Ranger acknowledged, "but at least it gives me something to do while I'm waiting to get this hardware off. I'm not planning on being here forever."

"I wanted to talk to you about that. I've got you moved completely out of RangeMan, or what was RangeMan. It's hard going back there now. In a way I'm glad you didn't stay in your apartment during the transition like you'd planned."

"Why?" Ranger asked. He made his way slowly from the window and sat heavily on the sofa. He still tired easily, and he'd been standing for a good half hour before Tank had showed up. Tank sat on the other end, his bulk taking up nearly half of the available space.

"It's not RangeMan any longer," Tank said. "I know the plan was for you to stay for a few months and consult with the new owners, but your accident caused you to make a clean break…uh, sorry," Tank said as he glanced at Ranger's leg. "I mean you didn't have to hang around and see them doing things different from the way we know they should be done. That's all I meant."

"I'd never call this accident good luck," Ranger said, "but you may be right about the transition. I might be lucky not to be witnessing it. The end of RangeMan was intentional, but even so, change is hard."

He glanced down at his leg, and then with an honesty only Tank ever saw he admitted, "This is hard. This time here. I want to get on with the next life phase, whatever that is, but I'm stuck here in limbo. You said you moved me. Where are all my worldly goods?"

"Vince, Hal and I moved everything into the safe house over on Exton Avenue. The property management company has the others all rented. I'm using the office in that house to take care of whatever paperwork comes in. I figured you might want to take over that job when you're out of here. I spend a couple of hours a day taking care of odds and ends."

"By the time I get out of here, I'm hoping there won't be any odds and ends to take care of. We didn't close RangeMan. We sold it. Any inquiries should go to the new company."

"Yeah, and most of them do," Tank stated. "But I'm organizing the special files."

"Those files should be destroyed," Ranger said. He frowned. "Are they secure?"

"Hell yes. It was the last thing Silvio did before he left the country. The computer isn't networked, and the files are all encrypted. You can't find them on the hard drive unless you know the code, and including me, there are two of us who know the code."

"It's all history," Ranger said. "They should be destroyed."

"I disagree. I've been rereading them. If you ever decided to write thrillers, you've got a helluva lot of material."

"That's not on my list of things to do…ever," Ranger said.

"What are you going to do, man?" Tank asked. "You got what, another month or two here? Then you're going to move into that old safe house, but what are you going to do? You gonna build someplace fancy to live, like the house you sold after…Stephanie?"

Ranger didn't meet Tank's eyes. No one but Tank ever mentioned Stephanie to him. No one dared. Tank knew him well enough to know how far he could push, but Tank wasn't pushing. He was curious about Ranger's plans and Ranger understood why.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Ranger admitted, "but I'm hoping you're doing it with me. I'm thinking of a new business. Something we could build from the ground up."

"What kind of business?" Tank asked. "Here in Trenton?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. You in?"

"Hell, man. Who could resist that kind of an offer?"

"Your sarcasm is noted," Ranger said.

The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in," Ranger called. He was surprised to see Cally's head peek around the partially opened door. She must have come straight up from the parking lot.

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't realize you were busy. I can come back."

"No need, ma'am," Tank said as he rose from his place on the sofa. "I was just leaving."

"Come in, Cally," Ranger said. She was still standing mostly behind the partially opened door and Ranger lips twitched slightly, but the smile never broke free. Tank was intimidating. What she didn't know was that a pretty woman, no matter how old or young, was intimidating to Tank. He was glad Cally had chosen this time to make an appearance. He wanted Tank to have an opportunity to get a good look at her. Then Ranger could find out if Tank saw the resemblance he saw.

"Really, Carlos, I can come back. I don't want to interrupt your visit. I was just going to discuss a few treatment options for you."

"No, don't go," Ranger said. "My visitor was telling the truth. He's leaving, but before he goes, I'd like to introduce you two formally. Tank, this is Cally Edelman, my physical therapist and the main reason I'm making such good progress here. Cally, this is Tank, my friend, lifelong business associate and the guy who saw the truck run over me and drive away. His quick response saved me."

Tank stepped forward and held out his hand. Cally looked up at him with her eyes wide open. She slipped her much smaller hand into his.

"Nice to meet you," Tank said.

"T-t-tank?" she questioned.

"It's a nickname," Ranger said. "You can probably figure out how he came by it."

"A nickname," she repeated.

"Yeah," Tank said. "Almost everyone that was at RangeMan has a nickname, even the boss man Carlos here. Most people call him Ranger."

As she pulled her hand from Tank's, Cally swayed. She put her hand against the door to steady herself. Ranger attempted to get out of the chair and go to her side, but Tank was quicker. He put an arm around the girl's shoulders. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Y-yes," Cally said, faintly. "I'm not feeling well today. I just came up here to tell Carlos…" her eyes turned from Tank and she gave Ranger an intense stare. "I won't be doing your therapy today. Rob will cover for me. I'm sorry." She turned abruptly and almost ran back through the door, slamming it behind her.

"What the hell was that?" Tank asked.

"I don't know," Ranger said. His brow was creased with concern. "She looked at you as though she'd seen a ghost."

"Hunh," Tank said. "Well, it's not the first time I've had that effect on a woman. I'll check on her." He opened the door and looked up and down the long hallway. It was empty.

"She's gone," he told Ranger.

"She probably took the stairs down instead of waiting for the elevator," Ranger said. He considered her reaction to Tank. He didn't buy her story about being ill. He'd seen her knees buckle when she'd been introduced to him. Tank had risen to his full height, but he didn't think it was fear that had caused her reaction. Still, Ranger recognized a fight-or-flight response when he saw it. Cally wasn't ill, but she'd had an overwhelming urge to get away. He wondered why.

"Did you hear me?" Tank asked. Ranger realized that he hadn't. He'd been wondering what was wrong with Cally.

"I said Woody is back in town. His kid had a kid. Woody's a friggin grandpa! A bunch of the guys are celebrating tonight. You feel like coming out for a meal? I'll pick you up. I think you'd ride in the truck okay."

Ranger started to say no, but he reconsidered. The outing might do him good. He was spending too much time contemplating his physical therapist. Maybe an evening with the guys was what he needed.

"Yeah. That sounds good," Ranger told Tank. After a long pause, he asked, "Does she remind you of anyone?"

"Who?" Tank asked. "Cally?"

"Yes," Ranger said. "I don't know why but she reminds me of Stephanie. Do you see it?"

Tank looked at Ranger and frowned slightly at the hopeful look he saw in his friend's eyes. "She does look a little familiar, man. But I don't see anything of Stephanie in her. You do, though?"

"I do," Ranger said. "I don't know what it is, but there is something about her that…"

"She's good lookin'," Tank interrupted. "Maybe you just got it for her and that feeling reminds you of Stephanie."

"I haven't 'just got it' for her," Ranger objected. "She's too young for me, but for some reason she makes me remember Stephanie."

"I don't see it," Tank said. "I'll pick you up at six. Be sure to tell the nursing staff you're going out. Wouldn't want them to think you wandered off."

"Fuck you."