CHAPTER 39

Hanging On By A hair

Ranger POV

This had been a long day, and my job here still wasn't done. I wished more than anything that I was the one driving away with her, but I couldn't, not if I was going to make sure this case was closed without her being charged with murder. To do that, I needed to go down into the cellar and see the space for myself and find out from the agents what evidence they had against her. I couldn't trust Morelli to have Stephanie's best interests at heart.

My steps grew heavier as I walked away from the only woman to ever hold my heart. From behind me, I heard the SUV accelerate as it drove away. I turned around in time to see it disappearing around the bend. I paused to stare at the empty road, still seeing the desolate look in her eyes when she realized I wasn't going with her. For a moment, I imagined there were no legal dilemmas hanging over our heads and that she was at home sleeping in my bed on seven. In my heart, I knew that was the way it should be. But instead she was on her way to another man's home and to his bed where he would take care of her. A blast of cold wind hit me, and I turned my head to shield my face from the worst of it.

While she was in the hospital, I'd been the one who made sure she was taken care of, but now that she was out of the hospital, things would change. I wouldn't be able to have constant contact with her while she was living in Morelli's home and that worried me because he never seemed to make her a priority. Instead of staying with her, he'd go in to work and leave her alone in his house all day. In her mental state, I didn't think that was a good idea. It was up to me to make sure that didn't happen. I knew I wouldn't have any trouble finding volunteers to sit with her, my men loved her, Hector, Lester and Cal especially. Being in Morelli's home didn't fill me with joy, but I would put her comfort ahead of my own and manage to endure the territory dispute. I wasn't sure how he was going to feel about my prolonged presence, but he'd just have to get used to having me in his space, because I wasn't going anywhere.

Stephanie wouldn't know it from my reactions, but her behavior has hurt me plenty over the years. Always waffling from my bed to Morelli's. Of course, I couldn't blame her, it's not like I've given her a solid reason to choose me. I couldn't even offer her a stable relationship. The fact is, she was a complication I hadn't anticipated. But I've always tried to give her everything she needed, and it hurt that she hadn't turned to me for support today. Instead, she'd asked Hector to accompany her into the interview. She held onto him as if he was the only thing keeping her from drowning when that used to be my job. I wasn't sure what was behind her decision, but I was glad that she had a friend who cared about her as much as Hector. I just wished I was the one she'd wanted sitting next to her. The one whose hand she reached for when she was so distraught she could barely speak.

Anyone could see that she was only sharing half of what had happened to her down there. It was a sanitized version. I wanted to believe her when she said he hadn't raped her, but I wasn't so sure she was telling the truth. Nothing she said had rid me of the guilt I felt for not being there to protect her. The feelings I'd been holding inside for weeks swirled around in my gut getting stronger and stronger. Some days I wasn't sure I was going to be able to put one foot in front of the other. I'd never failed so miserably before. I let her think I was some kind of hero. That I could save the day by sheer force of will, but I can't. I'm only a man. A flawed man. And definitely a man who doesn't deserve her. Realizing I was letting my doubts and fears control me, I shook those useless feelings away. I couldn't let that kind of thinking continue. When I turned back toward the cellar, I was the hardened soldier that I'd been trained to be.

I caught up with the others at the opening to the cellar. I'd wanted to go down there since we'd discovered it this morning but couldn't because having too many people trudging through the crime scene would have contaminated it. But now that they'd cleared most everything out of there, I was hoping Agent Shaw would allow me to go down… even for a few minutes. I couldn't fathom wondering for another second what it had been like for her living down there… with him. I had to see it for myself.

Agents Kinkade and Shaw stood talking with Morelli and a couple of other feds as I approached. "Mr. Manoso," Agent Shaw said as he tilted his head toward Morelli. "Detective Morelli was just asking if he could go down into the cellar and have a look around for himself. I wouldn't mind getting your take on a couple of matters. Would you like to join us?"

Just the invitation I'd been angling for. "After you." I held my hand out for him to go first. If Agent Shaw thought he was going to get me down there and get me talking about Stephanie, he was mistaken. I wouldn't say anything to hurt her case of justifiable homicide. But I had every intention of gleaning information from them and hopefully they would let something slip about the investigation. I was going to do whatever it took to determine how much trouble Stephanie was in.

"Stay to the left as you go down the stairs," Agent Shaw said as he pointed at the streaks of blood on the left-hand side of the steps and on the wall where Stephanie must have used it for support. Agent Kinkade went next and then Morelli and then me. As I went down the stairs I focused on the trail of blood. There was a lot of it, but I was pretty sure it was Durant's blood and not Stephanie's. Especially since the clothes she was wearing when she was found had been covered in blood that didn't belong to her. I felt perverse pride knowing she'd kicked his ass.

At the bottom of the stairs, a metal door stood open. A vice tightened around my heart when I saw the three padlocks attached to it. As soon as I stepped across the threshold into the cellar, my eyes swept the room. It was probably 20X20 and even though the bodies of the women had already been removed, it still smelled worse than any battlefield I'd ever been on.

The cold seeped through my coat. It was only marginally warmer down here than outside, but it was still too cold for Stephanie to have been kept naked with only a blanket and small heater to keep her warm. I didn't know how she had survived down here for so long. I'd been held in the jungle for three days by Colombian rebels and it had taken its toll on me in so many ways.

I watched Morelli as he looked around the cellar. I could see some of the same regrets I was having shadowed in his eyes. It wasn't the first time we'd both struggled to deal with our feelings after Stephanie had gone through something traumatic and it probably wasn't going to be the last. Morelli took a deep breath and schooled his features to distance himself from his emotions. Now, he was all business. Closing yourself off like that was hard to do. I had to give him respect for that.

To my left, there was a metal bed frame attached to the wall along the back leaving two legs in the front to support the rest of the weight. This is where she'd slept for twenty-nine days. My eyes alternated between the heavy metal legs of the bed wondering which of the two had been the one she used to break her bones.

Agent Kinkade saw where I was looking and pointed to the one on the right. "This is the leg that Stephanie used to break her hand."

I zeroed in on the one she indicated. So, this is what had saved Stephanie's life. I could almost feel her desperation as she brought the leg down on her hand… not once, but twice.

"And these chunks of missing mortar," she pointed at the wall to the right of the bed, "is where she stated that she practiced her swing."

I studied the gouges in the cinderblock wall. There were several of them and they all appeared to be deep as if the person who swung the weapon knew her very life depended on her ability to strike a fatal blow.

The sound of a drill caught my attention and I looked to the opposite side of the room. An agent was standing on a ladder unscrewing a metal cable that spanned the center of the room. This is why he put a collar around her neck. He had her chained up like a dog. I clenched my fists, wishing I had something or someone to take my anger out on.

I couldn't look at the cable without seeing her chained up like an animal. I let my focus shift to something else… anything else. Unfortunately, the next thing I saw was the wooden support pole in the center of the room. For a second, I was rooted to the spot, unable to move closer and inspect the place where most of her pain had taken place. I shook off my reticence and walked closer, putting my hand on the splintered wood, still stained with her blood. I could see Stephanie chained to the pole, her back at the mercy of that sick bastard. The room turned deathly quiet. My eyes burned and I had to look down to gain control of my emotions, but that went all to hell when I saw her blood staining the floor. She had endured so much, and I hadn't known. I was so full of rage I was about to blow.

Agent Kinkade came up behind me, lightly placing her hand on my shoulder. "Keep reminding yourself that she got away. I've seen many people in the aftermath of trauma and Stephanie is stronger than all of them. She will make it through this. It won't be easy, but you and the rest of her friends will support her." I cleared my throat and raised my head, once again in control. "I have pictures of the cellar before everything was dismantled and removed to the lab. Would you like to see them?" After I nodded, she stepped closer and held out her iPad.

Morelli had been speaking with Agent Shaw on the other side of the room while I surveyed the cellar, but he became curious when he saw Agent Kinkade pull out her iPad. He stepped closer to us and asked, "What do you have there?"

"I was just showing Mr. Manoso pictures of the crime scene." She pointed at a place on the screen to the right of the bed. "There was a chemical toilet positioned here." Moving her finger further to the right corner of the room next to the sink, she said, "And there was a large metal tub sitting here. Probably used for bathing."

I inhaled a slow deep breath. I hated the thought of Stephanie being naked in front of that bastard, but the thought of him watching her bathe was too much. What if he'd touched her? Or worse. She said he hadn't, but she had also been hazy with a lot of details regarding herself and what Durant had done to her. I had to wonder why.

"The glass cases were lined up here," Agent Kinkade motioned to the right side of the room. "And this is where Durant fell after she initially hit him." She pointed at a large blood stained area on the concrete floor near the doorway.

"So, she stood on the bed, like this?" Morelli tried to reenact Stephanie's final moments in the cellar by standing beside the door. "And when she heard him come in, she swung the empty shackle at his head?"

"Yes," Agent Shaw said. "Do you see these blood drops? He must have fallen to his knees here and lurched sideways out of her reach except for his feet. These smears are probably from dragging him closer. Since she can't tell us about this part, we must go on what the physical evidence suggests and our best guess. With this much blood loss, we have to assume that whatever happened took place right here in this spot."

"So, this is where he died?" Morelli asked.

"No," Agent Shaw shook his head. "Durant was found dead on the bed. The mattress was soaked in dried blood. The lab will have to test it to make sure it was his, but that seems to be the consensus." He didn't offer anything else. He was more interested in hearing Morelli's theories and instead of keeping them to himself like I was, he was acting as if this was any other case that he was puzzling out. It made me wonder what he would do if Stephanie had killed Durant in cold blood. Would Morelli turn her in?

"These smears," Morelli pointed out as if he was auditioning to become an agent himself, "show that he was moved from where he bled on the concrete to the bed. But there's no way she could have lifted him onto the bed by herself. That means he had to have crawled to the bed and managed to get himself up onto the mattress. He was alive. She didn't kill him."

Morelli appeared to be relieved that Stephanie hadn't killed Durant in cold blood. Sure, it made things less complicated, but I wouldn't have cared if she'd beaten the man to death. It wouldn't have changed how I look at her or how much I love her. After what he did to her, he deserved to die.

"Cause of death is yet to be determined," Agent Shaw said.

"Yes," Morelli agreed, "but you have to admit that if he was capable of getting himself up on the bed, he wasn't too badly hurt."

"If that is the case, then he likely starved to death," Agent Shaw said. "Ms. Plum's memory loss is what kept anyone from finding this place sooner. Maybe he would have lived to tell us why he killed these other women."

"Whatever Stephanie did, it was to save her life." Morelli bristled. "She can't help it if she can't remember the details."

I stepped in front of Morelli to shut him up. If he kept talking, he was going to make things harder for Stephanie. These agents weren't out to arrest her, they were simply interested in finding out why Durant had done these heinous things. She had documented memory loss from suffering a severe head injury. Nothing here was premeditated. They would have no choice but to declare this a clear case of self-defense and absolve her of any wrongdoing.

The forensic tech who was removing the metal cable called the agents over. They stepped away to speak with him. Morelli knelt beside the blood smears, studying them as if they could tell him the whole story.

A sudden chill ran through me. I got the feeling that something was wrong… very, very wrong.

Lester, Hector, and I had finished eating take out from Cluck in a Bucket and were now settled on Joe's couch watching TV. The urge to pee hit me and I got to my feet. "What is wrong, Agelita? Do you need something from the kitchen?" Hector asked.

I headed for the stairs. "I'll be back. I just need to go to the bathroom." After I finished my business, I washed my hands, careful not to get my cast wet. I was making an effort not to look in the mirror, but finally my curiosity got the best of me. The bruises were almost gone, but my face was still too pale and too thin. And when I looked into my eyes, there was something undefinable missing. I felt dead inside.

The thought of going back downstairs and pretending that I was okay seemed like a mountain I couldn't climb. The guys thought they were being stealthy, but I saw their concerned glances as they checked to make sure I wasn't crying or breaking down. They were treating me like glass, and I hated it. It was exhausting having everyone feeling sorry for me. There was no way I could shoulder their grief. The weight of everything was so heavy it was hard to breath sometimes.

"You can do this." I gave myself a pep talk. "Just fake it till you make it." I waited to see if I suddenly felt stronger, but I felt more like a loser than I ever had. Even before this thing with Durant happened, I'd been struggling with feelings of inadequacy. I even went so far as to ask Joe and Ranger if they thought I was a loser. Of course, they wouldn't tell me the truth. And now I wasn't sure it even mattered.

My hair was a windblown mess. Before I turned off the sink, I wet my hand and tried to smooth my curls down. I tilted my head to the side looking at them… really looking at them. I pulled a spiral out and let it spring back. I decided I hated them. Agent Kinkade's voice began echoing inside my head. 'Why you, Stephanie? Why did Hunter Durant pick you?' That was a good question. Why had he picked me? I've asked myself that question a million times, but I still didn't have an answer.

Despite all the walls I'd erected, the memories I worked hard to keep buried began pushing through. I remembered how it felt to have him brushing my hair and how it felt as he toyed with my curls, twisting them around his finger and letting them go. I stared in the mirror at myself, listening to his voice whispering in my ear. 'Your curls were the first thing I noticed about you.'

I found the scissors in the vanity drawer and with my casted hand I lifted a section of hair and brought the scissors to it. He said I was beautiful, but if this is the price of beauty, I didn't want to be pretty anymore. And I didn't want these damn curls anymore either. I squeezed the scissors and watched as the first lock hit the floor. I waited to see how I felt. A few seconds went by while I waited for regret to kick in. But it didn't come. I felt numb, so I cut another piece and then another. When I got done, there was a pile of chestnut colored curls on the floor. My hair was uneven, the shortest parts being just a few inches, but nothing longer than the length of my hand.

I stared into the mirror, wondering when I was going to feel better, but I couldn't stop thinking that I hadn't done enough. I looked down at Joe's clippers and thought about using them. The only thing running through my mind was that I had to make myself so ugly that no one would want to give me a second look. I was getting ready to put the scissors down and grab the clippers when someone knocked on the door.

"Angelita, Are you okay in there?" Hector called out and when Stephanie didn't answer, he started pounding on the door and twisting the doorknob.

"Beautiful, let us in," Lester called out, his voice clear with alarm. When they didn't hear a response from inside, he called out again. "Steph, answer me." He banged more frantically on the door; the jamb in danger of splitting.

Hector held onto the doorknob as he placed his shoulder against the door. For all he knew, she was standing directly on the other side of the door. He had to be careful that the door didn't hit her when he forced it open. He put his weight into it, forcing the spring latch out of the strike plate and pushed the door open. He was relieved to see Steph standing in front of the sink unharmed.

It took him another second to understand that she'd butchered her hair and was holding onto a sharp pair of scissors. His heart started beating faster in his chest. "What have you done, Angelita?" Realizing that she was fragile and that sudden movements could cause her to react unpredictably, he held his hands up, showing her that he wasn't going to hurt her. He was afraid she could unintentionally hurt herself or him. Slowly, he eased his hand forward until he gently took the scissors from her grasp. He quickly pocketed them and placed his hands on her shoulders as tears gathered in his eyes. She was simply standing there, frozen in place. This was bad… very, very bad. He crushed her to him, softly whispering to her that everything was going to be alright.

Lester couldn't believe his eyes. What had she done to her hair? Why? They were supposed to be watching her and look what's happened. But what concerned him the most was her lack of response to them. She appeared to be an empty shell. "She's tired on her feet. Let's get her out of here and into bed," he said as he approached her tentatively, mindful of his large size and careful not to scare her. He cared deeply for her and maybe he was a little in love with her. "The best thing for her right now is to get some sleep."

Steph didn't protest as they led her across the hall and sat her down on the bed. Lester knelt on the floor, pulling her tennis shoes off and gently coaxed her to lay back. Steph turned onto her side away from them; her eyes closed. Hector picked up a blanket from the foot of the bed and draped it across her before he and Lester stepped out into the hallway. "What do we do now?" Hector asked, low enough that Steph wouldn't be disturbed. "When she wakes up, and see's what she has done, she will be heartbroken."

Lester wasn't so sure about that. He'd seen something in her eyes that made him think she knew exactly what she'd done and didn't care. But what did he know about women? "We can't call her mother or sister. She doesn't need that drama, and neither do we. Maybe we should call her friend."

"Mary Lou?"

"Yeah," Lester said, relieved to have a plan. "I'll go down and get her number from Steph's phone while you call Ranger." Lester was already halfway down the stairs before Hector realized he'd been hoodwinked.

"Make her some hot cocoa while you are down there," Hector called after him.

"10-4, hermano. Good luck."

Hector peaked in at her, noticing she hadn't moved. He closed the door and placed the call. Ranger answered on the first ring. "What's happened?"

"Estefanía has had an episode."

The feeling of alarm that Ranger was experiencing made sense now. It wasn't just his internal reaction to being in the evil space where Stephanie had been tortured. She needed him right now. "What kind of episode?" he asked. While Hector explained that Stephanie had chopped off her hair, the pain in Ranger's chest grew. He could almost feel her despair. If he didn't know that he was in excellent health, he would swear he was having a heart attack. "She cut her hair off?" Words couldn't describe how angry he was. "Where the hell were you?"

"I cannot go into the bathroom with her," Hector said. "She was taking too long. I knocked, but she would not open the door."

Joe had watched Ranger take the call and when he heard the anger in his voice, he approached. "What's going on? Is Stephanie okay?"

Ranger shook his head to let Morelli know that everything was not okay. "Put her on the phone," he told Hector.

"She has not spoken since we found her." He went back into the bedroom. "Angelita? It is Ranger on the phone. He is worried about you." When she still didn't respond or move, he gently placed the phone against her ear.

"Babe."

Stephanie sniffed but didn't say anything.

"I'm on my way, okay?"

When she still didn't respond, Hector pulled the phone away. "She heard you," he told Ranger and then he listened for another minute and hung up.

"Here you go, Beautiful. I couldn't find any cocoa packets in the kitchen and didn't know how to make it from scratch, so I had Cal bring these. In his hand, he held a tray with three large Styrofoam cups and a small white box.

Hector took one of the cups and held it out to her. "Can you sit up, Angelita?" When she didn't move, he said, "Please." That word worked for Ranger and he was hoping it would work for him as well. She carefully sat up and leaned against the headboard, but still didn't speak as she took the cup from Hector.

"And because Cal's got a sweet tooth, he got us some muffins," Lester said as he opened the box and held it out to her to make her selection. "I think there's strawberry, blueberry, and cinnamon. I'll fight you for the blueberry, because you know they're my favorite." As soon as he put the box in front of her, her hand darted out, quickly picking a random muffin uncaring which flavor and pulling it close to her chest. Lester looked at Hector with tears pooling in his eyes at her desperate grab for food. The mere thought that they'd take food away from her had them choking up with emotion. They knew she'd been severely starved in the cellar. As far as they were concerned, she would never go hungry again.

Hector had to find a way to pull his Angelita out of the fog she was in. He reached into the box and purposefully chose his muffin leaving the last one for Lester.

Lester looked inside and frowned. Then he looked at Hector and the blueberry muffin in his hand. "Seriously?"

Hector smirked, knowing that Lester was stuck with the cinnamon. Even though Steph's withdrawal had made things in the room tense, they were doing their best to interact with her and keep her engaged. They weren't going to let her slip away in her mind.

Steph finished her muffin before the others. They couldn't even be sure she'd had time to taste it. She hadn't inhaled it, but she did eat it quickly. It took Lester and Hector longer to finish theirs. Just as Lester popped his last bite in his mouth, a knock sounded at the front door. He took off down the stairs to let Mary Lou inside. Minutes later, Mary Lou rushed into the room and pulled Steph into a hug. She sat down on the side of the bed, tears running down her face, but Steph had no reaction. Mary Lou sniffed and dried her tears on her sleeve as she looked at what Steph had done to her hair. It was badly butchered. Some places were about six inches long and others were three or four. She'd really made a mess.

Ranger was speeding down the interstate, his only goal was to get to Stephanie as fast as possible. He was feeling all kinds of guilt. He knew he should have taken her home instead of letting Hector and Lester do it. But at least his sacrifice hadn't been in vain. He felt positive they weren't going to charge her with murder.

Morelli had managed to keep up with him for a while, but by the time he reached the Trenton city line, Morelli was nowhere in sight. Ranger sent a text to Lester to let him know he was minutes away from Morelli's house. He was waiting at the door to let him in when he pulled up in front of the house. He wasted no time running up the stairs.

"Babe." Ranger sat down on the side of the bed, opposite Mary Lou. "What happened?"

Steph had been sleeping, but woke to the sound of Ranger's voice, confused about where she was. He pulled her into his arms and held onto her as if his life depended on it. He stroked her back and rocked her all the while whispering words of reassurance in her ear.

Not long after that, Joe came barreling into the room and took one look at Stephanie. "Cupcake, what have you done?"

She pulled back from Ranger and looked at each person in the room, trying to ascertain why everyone was so upset. Joe was staring at her as if he didn't know her. Hector and Lester wore twin expressions of sadness and guilt. Mary Lou's mouth was twisted as if she was trying hard not to cry. And Ranger's face had more emotion than she'd ever seen. As was her habit when she was flustered, she pushed her hair behind her ears. That's when she noticed the difference and remembered what she'd done. Joe came closer, forcing Mary Lou to get up and step aside. Ranger tightened his arms around Stephanie, but she pulled away from him and sat up straighter. She wondered why Joe was angry. It wasn't his hair. She could shave it off if she wanted and she still might. It had made her feel powerful and she liked it.

"Why would you do this to yourself?" he asked. "You always go to Mr. Alexander at the mall to get your hair cut."

How could I make them understand? Those damn curls were what got me into this mess in the first place.

"Mr. Alexander?" Hector asked.

"Yes," Mary Lou said. "He's been her hairdresser for years. He's the only one who knows how to cut her hair the way she likes it."

Ranger gave Hector a barely perceptible nod and Hector left the room. Lester followed. "Where're you going, man?"

"WE are going to retrieve this Mr. Alexander and bring him here."

Lester's eyebrows rose. "You want to kidnap him?" he whispered.

"If he knows what is good for him, he will come of his own free will. He will be well compensated for his troubles."

"Alrighty then." Lester slapped Hector on the back. "Let's do this."

Inside the bedroom, Ranger took Steph's hand in his, softly stroking his thumb across her knuckles, and said, "I called Dr. Powell on my way here. She's arranged an appointment with Dr. Mereck."

"Who's Dr. Mereck?" Joe demanded as he sat down on the other side of Stephanie.

"She's a therapist." Ranger hadn't bothered to look at him. His focus was one hundred percent on Stephanie. "I'm going to take you to see her in the morning… first thing, okay?"

Stephanie wanted to tell him no, but he was desperate for her to get back to normal and she couldn't let him down. She could see in his eyes that he was scared for her. Even though it would be a pointless trip, she was going to have to agree to go. She wasn't going to talk about what Durant had done to her. Not now. Not ever. In the end, she nodded her head.

Twenty minutes later, Hector and Lester shoved their unwilling guest through Joe's bedroom doorway. "What is the meaning of this? You will take me home right this instant." Stephanie was sitting up, leaning against the headboard of Joe's bed. Mr. Alexander came up short when he saw the state of her hair. He put his hand over his chest and inhaled a pained breath. "Mercy. What has been done to you?"

"Shut it," Lester said. "If you hurt her feelings, I'll hurt something worse of yours."

"What do you want from me?"

"You will make her more beautiful than she has ever been," Ranger said, never taking his eyes off her.

Stephanie wanted to scream. This was the exact opposite of what she wanted.

"Yes," Mr. Alexander nodded. "I am the best in all of the East Coast. I can do this." He snapped his fingers impatiently at Ranger. "Bring me a towel, a chair, and my bag." Ranger cut his eyes toward Mr. Alexander, in warning.

Lester left the room to gather the items. After everything had been assembled the way Mr. Alexander demanded, Lester said, "Ready when you are."

"Madame Stephanie," Mr. Alexander said, "if you will please take a seat, I will make magic."

Ranger thought he would have to pick her up and place her in the chair, but she got up without saying a word and followed the directions. Everyone stood back and watched her robotic response. She was simply obeying commands. In fact, Hector thought if he told her to jump out the window, she just might do it. He was worried.

Joe's phone rang and he stepped out into the hall to take it. When he came back in, Mr. Alexander was still combing her hair and tilting his head to the side while he assessed the situation. Joe guessed he was trying to figure out the best way to fix the mess Stephanie had made. "Your mother called," Joe told her. "She wants to bring dinner."

Stephanie started shaking her head. She didn't want her mother to see her right now. She'd freak out.

Joe put his hand on her cheek. "It's okay. I'll go by and get the dinner and be right back." He looked at Ranger and paused, not happy about what he was getting ready to ask. "Can you stay with her until I get back?"

Ranger was insulted that Morelli thought he'd leave while Stephanie was clearly dealing with the aftermath of her trauma. He nodded and Morelli left.

Lester sat on the bed in front of Steph's chair and pulled her feet into his lap. While Mr. Alexander cut her hair, he began massaging her feet and separated her toes. "This little piggy went… "

Mary Lou giggled and put her hand over her mouth. "Can I take this one home with me, Steph?" She was trying to get Stephanie to engage in conversation, but when she didn't respond, Mary Lou pursed her lips and looked at Lester appraisingly. "I don't know. He's a big boy. His grocery bill would probably bankrupt me, so I'll let you keep him."

"There," Mr. Alexander said as he stepped back and appraised his work. He had repaired the damage Steph had done to her hair and given it a nice shape. It was short, but she looked pretty. "It is a masterpiece."

Steph had no desire to see what he'd done. As long as Ranger and Joe didn't look at her like she was a freak, she would be okay. She stood up to follow Mr. Alexander out of the room. "Where are you going," Ranger asked even though she had yet to speak.

"Downstairs to wait for Joe. I'm hungry."

They all looked at each other and then at her back as she walked away. Ranger quickly got up to escort her downstairs and sit with her on the couch.

"I'm going to take off, Steph," Mare said as she slipped into her coat. "Call me if you need me. Anytime." She gave Steph a hug and left.

Hector and Lester kept up an easy banter while waiting for Joe to get back from her parents. Steph was relieved to have the company. It prevented Ranger from asking anymore questions.

A few minutes later the front door opened, and Joe walked through. He smiled when he looked at her. "You look nice. Mr. Alexander did a good job." He didn't want to dwell on her hair episode, so he lifted the bag in front of him. "Your mom sent pot roast and some of your favorites." Steph's stomach growled as the aroma filled the house. "Mrs. Plum sent more than enough food. You're welcome to stay and eat," he told Ranger, Hector, and Lester, but they were already putting on their coats.

Hector cast Joe a sideways glance and she thought she heard a low growl in his throat. Joe's narrowing eyes let her know she hadn't been hearing things and that he was aware of the hostility as well. She frowned. Ever since she'd woken up in the hospital Hector's behavior toward Joe had been downright chilling. At the time, she had pushed her questions to the back of her mind.

"I will bring breakfast in the morning," Hector said as he leaned down to kiss Steph on the cheek, unconcerned whether Joe wanted him here or not. Maybe tomorrow when they were alone, she'd ask Hector what was going on.

"Would you mind getting some things from my apartment?" She kept some clothes at Joe's, but she could use a couple more loose-fitting outfits.

"Text me the list." He smiled, happy that she was acting more like herself.

Lester leaned down to kiss Steph's forehead. "I have to work in the morning, but I'll stop by in the afternoon to see how you're doing. Want me to bring you anything?"

"Blueberry muffin?" She gave him a sad smile.

His smile split his face. "You got it, Beautiful."

Ranger wanted to kiss her on the lips, but Morelli was standing right there, and he didn't want to cause trouble for her. Instead, he kissed her cheek and said, "I'll pick you up at 8:30 a.m. for your appointment." She didn't really have a choice about speaking to the therapist. She'd freaked everyone out by what she'd done, and if she said no, he would insist. "If you need me, call," he told her and then followed Hector and Lester out the door.

As soon as Joe locked up behind them, Bob jumped up on the couch and put his head in her lap. "Got any room for me?" he asked as he nudged Bob over.

"Always," she said, cuddling into him, enjoying the quiet.

She stayed that way for a while, not talking, just listening to the beat of his heart. Finally, Joe lifted her off his chest and helped her to lie down fully on the couch. "While you rest, I'll heat up the dinner your mother sent."