When the first of Stephanie's acquaintances realise she's gone, (and not gone to Macy's shoe sale gone but gone skipping over state lines like cracks in sidewalks gone), it's like a bomb has gone off.

Tank makes sure to avoid Morelli for as long as possible (not difficult, it's practically every Rangeman's MO anyway) but even he of considerable muscle and menace cannot escape Morelli's vengeful gaze. He has a few guesses as to what Morelli went over to Stephanie's apartment for, but considering he himself helped the bounty hunter clear out the last of her assorted belongings (admittedly, he fears for his health a little when Ranger discovers he was her cover up accomplice of all people) he's betting the cop did not enjoy the short note she left behind with his name scrawled in almost unintelligible script. (He loved Stephanie like a sister, and whilst he didn't mind being part of the clean-up crew when explosions occurred nobody could make excuses for handwriting that bad).

So when he was delivering a skip into the waiting hands of one Trenton police force, he wasn't all too surprised when the screech of tires in the parking lot preceded the arrival of six foot of pissed off Burg cop. Big Dog threw him a sympathetic stare for what was to come before scuttling away with his coffee. Tank resisted the urge to snort, while many of the Rangeman got on just fine with Trenton's finest, their solidarity came first and foremost to their own 'cliques' as Stephanie would call them.

He finished singing off his skip, collected his receipt and turned round in time to meet the furious stare of one Joseph Morelli, on/off boyfriend of one Stephanie Plum. Tank let the cop come to him, but stalked forward to meet him halfway so as to edge himself closer to the exit in the hopes he can remove himself from the situation in less than ten minutes. Doubtful he admits, and it's not like he didn't know what he was getting into when he offered his help to Stephanie, but he wishes it could be resolved without him having to face the ire of half the city's population. He wasn't really a talkative social butterfly guy.

The two men finally come to a halt face to face in the station, eyes swivelling to watch them without subtlety. "Morelli" Tank acknowledges the cop without dropping his stare. Morelli holds his ground, "Tank" he returned through gritted teeth (but still, Tank appreciates the attempt at civility. He doubts Ranger will be so kind)

"Saw the truck in the lot" he continues "thought you might be Ranger" Morelli seems to holding onto the ability to say Ranger's name without spitting it and Tank's impressed until he realises Morelli's statement suggests a longer more colourful follow up.

"In fact" and by the way Morelli's tone sounds merely surprised, calm and even Tank knows the cop is more pissed off than he has the words to express "I was hoping I could ask him where the hell Steph's gone"

"Oh?" Tank asks, feigning disinterested surprise and raising a single eyebrow.

Morelli doesn't seem convinced. "Yeah" he says casually as if they're discussing the weather "seems she's decided to skip out for a few days. Only her apartment is gutted of everything and anything she ever owned except her shitty furniture and she left a fucking note, saying she doesn't know where she's gone or for how long, but she wants me to know she'll be safe and not to worry about her. That it's for the god damn best"

Morelli has to take a deep breath to steady himself, reigning in the rising tone of his voice in an attempt to shake off the eavesdroppers, but Tank's positive he's just lit the Burg grapevine like a Molotov cocktail and there ain't shit he can do to fix that.

The cop steps in closer to him, hands on hips and lowers his voice. "Look, I know sometimes Ranger gets it into her head to go off on some hair-brained adventure with him but I usually at least get a fucking half-assed voicemail and this feels less like something I shouldn't worry about and more like something I should take out a mortgage on my house to pay for my Maalox bill"

Tank lets him stew for a moment, enjoying the respite from his complaints and thinking wistfully of a time before he had to deal with everyone's twenty questions because he's pretty damn sure that will be all he's doing for the next few weeks. That and crawling out of the grave Ranger puts him in.

"Yes" Tank finally says. Morelli's head shoots up with almost comically wide eyes as his under breath muttering stops dead. "She's gone out of town, but not with Ranger" he doesn't tell Morelli that the man in black has no idea as of yet that the riot curled brunettes up and vanished without a trace. It does no good to feed information to the enemy.

And of course, his Stephanie-esque wishes to a higher power to make Morelli leave it at that are worthless.

"What the hell is going on, Tank? Do not bullshit me or I swear to God…"

"What?" Tank interrupts taking step forward. "Are you threatening me, Morelli? Stephanie has left for an unknown location and time period, possibly for good if she's smart and she is" he emphasises this in case it's lost on the detective and takes another step forward to take him from deadlock to looming with all the advantages of his size. "And if she hasn't seen fit to tell you anything, then I see no reason to enlighten you"

Tank gives a second to satisfy himself that Morelli's expression displays the correct response to the warning he's giving.

"If you're stupid enough to try and hunt her down, or to make the mistake of bringing this up with Ranger you will regret it, Morelli" taking advantage of Morelli's frozen form he begins moving towards the door, stopping to parse one more piece of advice because he's almost as tired of this bullshit as Stephanie was.

"Not because of me, not because of Ranger but because Stephanie made the decision to trust you" he pauses, knowing the entire station is listening in and the minuscule chances of Ranger not finding out until he's on the other side of the globe have evaporated into ashes and dust that are blowing on the winds of gossip as the news revealed spreads like wildfire.

"If you break that trust by ignoring whatever she's seen fit to tell you, I suggest you never seek her out again. Hell hath a woman scorned" and with a grin he knows is as terrifying as it is mocking he departs the station.

For once the bombshells metaphorical and all are delivered by someone other than Stephanie, even if they are still of her making. Stepping into the humid day, shades sliding back into place he takes in a breath and exhales with a sound of satisfaction.

They say if you're going to take a band aid off you should rip it.

His own personal experience of this comes from duct tape and 'interviews', but he figures it's apt nonetheless.

He has a promise to keep after all, and a good soldier always follows orders.

Lester

When Lester swings into Vincent Plum Bail Bonds whistling and carrying a suitably large box of donuts in one hand; he does not expect the kerfuffle that receives him.

And when he uses the word kerfuffle, it is an entirely accurate description. (Seriously, he didn't know Lula could cluck; like a chicken).

"Woah woah woah, ladies. What's going on here?" he calls over the ruckus. They pause, blink at him owlishly like they checking who it is before the chaos erupts again.

So he whistles. A sharp, loud trill that demands they fall in line and calm the fuck down. Jesus.

He knows it's a risk to put himself willingly in Stephanie's 'co-workers' way but he thought he'd just stop by, see if he could hang shotgun with Steph for the day whilst also keeping an eye on her and earning himself some amnesty from Ranger. The Seychelles are nice this time of year and Lester is sure there's some nice real estate to be seen. He's very fond of architecture. The human kind, best found in female form.

He shakes that thought away, registering that in the midst of his self-monologue his whistle did the trick.

He focuses on Connie, knowing it's his best shot at a rational answer. "What the hell happened?"

Connie shrugs (and if he takes a second to notice it jiggles her assets that's his business). "We think Stephanie might have been kidnapped by some psycho again" and then she sits down and resumes filing her nails like she hasn't said anything, leaving Lester open mouthed and panicking.

He's about to run through his mental checklist of 'shit Ranger would want him to do' when Lula helpfully squawks "She's left us. She up and abandoned us like an orphan in one of those sad films. Y'know the musical ones? I ain't much for theatre. I bet I'd be good at show tunes though, I got the grace for them fancy dance routines"

Lester leaps at the chance to prevent Lula ever demonstrating this for him, he's sure it's just magical except it will more likely be horrific.

"What do you mean she left? Like she's gone out for skips for the day?" he begins to relax as he realises this has all just been some big mistake developed from Lula's mad tendencies to overreact.

"No!" Lula screamed at him (he did not flinch dammit) "She gone, gone. Like not home for dinner gone. Like gone with the wind, gone. And she ain't coming back" with that Lula flings a missile at him that he just barely manages to catch before it collides with his nose. (He feels little shame at this, there are no words for how dangerous a weapon Lula could be in the wrong hands. He tends to sleep with one eye open as it is.)

He realises the missile is a screwed up paper ball, and frowning he tries to unravel it to read the scrawled writing. At first he thinks it's a children's before he realises he knows that impossible to read chicken scrawl. Lester feels dread and horror sink through every single last one of his pores as he realises what he's reading.

He barely registers Lula's shout of "Hey is that donuts?!" swallowing hard he shoves the box in her direction before making for the door, paper clutched in his now sweaty hand.

Connie yells after him a thought that Lester's trying very, very hard not to think about.

"What's Ranger gonna say about all this?"

What indeed.

Notes - I actually have no idea what the Seychelles is like at various times of year, The vague references Lula makes to musical theatre with orphans could be taken as Annie if you wish.