Chapter Three
After a little glaring, I'd eventually resigned myself to climbing up into the passenger seat of Hal's black Explorer. I had him drive me to the bonds office so that I could turn in my body receipts. I was still flushed from the last high bond I'd collected on so I wasn't in dire need of rent money, but it would add some nice padding to my budget. Might even be able to buy a new car to replace that crappy truck Tank had stolen.
The new bonds office building was still technically under construction, but enough of the work had been done that Connie decided it was better to move in and deal with the hassle of working around bare drywall than it was to try and stick it out at the temporary office she'd rented. Especially since it kind of went down in a flood of rats. I was okay with this decision. It was nice being out of the bus, and the contractor had promised to get the rest of the work done quickly. Since Vinnie had just given him a Ferrari to settle an issue between them, I was feeling optimistic.
Lula and Connie looked up at me when I came in. Then their eyes fell on the window over my shoulder. I looked behind me. Hal was standing at parade rest right next to the front door. I sighed and gave Connie the body receipts. "Tank thinks I'm reckless."
"That explains it," Connie said, looking at the slips. Connie Rosolli was a couple years older than me, the same age as my sister Valerie and Joe Morelli. She was shorter by a couple inches, and more voluptuous by a couple inches too, mostly in the chest. She was leaning back in her seat in front of the bare bones of Vinnie's inner office in a black pencil skirt and heels, a blood-red sweater buttoned up just high enough to keep her from falling out of her black lace top. Her straightened black hair pulled back in a messy bun, her lips and nails blood-red to match her sweater. Connie was the flesh and blood equivalent of a mob-daughter Betty Boop.
Her eyebrows rose when she saw the second receipt. "You got Damian Marquez?"
"Yep. All by myself."
"Huhn. How come you didn't take me with you?" Lula wanted to know. "You don't need me anymore now that you've got yourself a Halosaurus?"
Lula was the most larger than life person I'd ever met. She was in yellow today, with bright blonde hair streaked with violet. Her spandex tank top and skirt were a little like sausage casing on her ample body. Lula used to be a street walker before she'd started doing filing for Vinnie. She'd changed quite a few things in her life since then. Her wardrobe just wasn't one of them. Somehow it worked for her, though. The yellow looked fantastic with her brown skin, and she had such a big personality that I always felt invisible when I was standing next to her.
That might have been a good thing with Skeezer. Maybe it would have taken him an extra few minutes to shoot at me. And there would have been the added benefit in the fact that Lula usually remembered to carry her gun.
"Trust me, if I'd known I was going up against Skeezer Marquez, I would have let you ride shotgun in a heartbeat."
"Damn skippy. We're the dream team, you and me. We always get our man. Ain't nobody can hide when we're on the prowl. I bet even Ranger couldn't've done it better than us."
Actually, I was betting if Lula and I had taken Skeezer down together, it would have been material for America's Funniest Home Videos.
"So, how long has Rangeman been following you?" Connie asked.
"About a week. I don't know where Ranger is, but if he doesn't get back soon I'm gonna hunt him down myself."
"You can't just have him tell his guys to back off?"
"He's been off grid since day two. No one's heard from him."
My phone started ringing. It was my mother's house. I groaned on the inside. At least I thought it was the inside until I saw the looks Lula and Connie gave me. When I picked up, it turned out to be my Grandma Mazur. "Are you still coming for dinner tonight?"
Crap. "I forgot. I've had an eventful day."
"You can tell us all about it when you get here. There's chocolate cake for desert," she added.
Grandma knew where all my weak spots were. I sighed. "I'll be right there." I disconnected. "I've got to go. I'm late for dinner at my mom's house."
"That explains the sighing," Lula said. "I'd offer to bite that bullet with you, mostly 'cause your granny's a hoot, but I've got me a hot date tonight and I'm not breaking it for anything short of a national emergency."
"As long as he's smarter than the last one."
"Pretty sure anyone with an IQ above tree slug would be smarter than the last one," Connie pointed out.
Hal drove me to my parents' house and parked in the driveway right in front of the garage door. It was pretty smart, thinking ahead like that. It was entirely possible I might try to sneak out in my Uncle Sander's 1953 powder blue Buick if my mother started in again. I hated driving Big Blue, but it would be better than listening to another lecture about my future.
I thought he was going to wait in the car. Maybe hoped that he would drive off when it became obvious I was done for the night. No such luck. He took up a post between the driveway and my mother's hydrangea bushes so that he could see the entire street.
My grandmother was waiting for me at the front door. She was a petite woman. Bony and fragile looking despite her spritely nature. Living with my parents now that my Grandpa Mazur was eating his pork chops with Saint Peter. "That's a nice car you're driving. That's one of Ranger's isn't it? Not as sexy as the ones he usually gives you, but it's nice."
"It's one of the fleet cars his men drive. And I don't really want to talk about it."
"Well, I bet the story you have'll be a pip. Last time you were telling us about how you were married to Ranger in Hawaii."
"I wasn't married to Ranger in Hawaii. We just said that so they would let us in the hotel."
"Sure," she said, tapping the side of her nose with a wink. "I gotcha. Just don't let your mother hear us talking about it, or she's liable to start hitting the bottle again."
My mother didn't approve of my association with Ranger. Ranger wasn't relationship material. He was the bounty hunting mercenary that wore nothing but black and lived in the shadows. Ranger was Batman. She'd literally drunk herself into a stupor when I told my family how we'd lied our way into a married couples only retreat in Hawaii to hunt down a skip. I looked down at my left hand. The glaring white tan line was still there almost two weeks later. A lasting reminder of eight incredible days with a man I couldn't keep.
The second I got into the dining room, I had to admit hitting the bottle had a sudden appeal. My sister Valerie was there with all four of her girls. Angie and Mary Alice were on either side of Grandma's seat, with two year old Lisa in a highchair on the corner between Val and our father. That left the seat next to Val for me, the baby in her lap.
How she managed to handle four daughters at once was beyond me. I don't think I could handle one, let alone a two-year-old and an infant at the same time. But then, Val was always a saint. She was the good daughter. Always did was she was supposed to. While I was the daughter who built pillow bridges and tried to fly by jumping off the garage roof.
Even in the ashes of her divorce and her subsequent unplanned pregnancies, Val had still managed to hold onto her perfect daughter status. Now she was married to a lawyer. Nevermind that her husband wasn't particularly successful. That didn't detract from the pleasure my mother got from saying it.
Sometimes I wondered if she would ever brag like that about her son-in-law being a cop.
No need to wonder about what she'd say if I married Ranger. There were more problems in that area than the fact my mother wouldn't approve.
I helped my mom and grandma bring the pot roast, vegetables and gravy to the table. Took my seat next to Val. My mother was about to sit down when the phone in the kitchen started ringing. She didn't hesitate to go back for it. My father didn't hesitate either. He dug into the pot roast like he hadn't noticed the rest of us were there.
My mother came back in from the kitchen. "That was Mrs. Ciak from next door. She says there's a scary man in all black standing in our driveway."
"Oh, that's just Hal. He works for Ranger."
"Why is he standing in our driveway?"
"He's been driving me around."
"What happened to your car?"
Good question. I didn't really want to tell my mother that Tank had me under 24 hr guard. Not only was it embarrassing, I thought it might lead to a shrieking panic voice and a whole lot of whiskey. "Someone stole my truck and Tank thought this was easier until they can track it down. It's no big deal."
"Well, for goodness sake, invite him in. What will people think if they see a big man like that standing outside our house?" my mother asked.
Grandma was out of her seat in an instant. "I'll set another place. It'll be nice to have a new man at the table. What with Albert working late and Joseph not being around much."
I thought about protesting on principal, but it would have been a losing battle. That, and since it was looking unlikely that Hal was going to give up on his Stephanie Watch, I might as well feed him.
I poked my head out the front door and called him over.
"Problem?" he asked.
"Only that you standing out here is scaring the neighbors. Grandma's setting a place for you at the table."
He looked unsure for a second. Probably didn't want to get in trouble for sitting down on the job. Hal was one of Ranger's younger guys. Mid twenties with his blond hair buzzed short in a military style. He wasn't always the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he tried hard. He was also more likeable than a lot of Ranger's other men. Ranger tended to hire two types. Both were overly serious. They either looked like they ought to be wearing desert camo or an orange jumpsuit.
Grandma was just finished setting a seat between me and Val when we got back to the table. I had to pat the empty chair before Hal finally sat down. I passed him some pot roast.
"So, you work for Ranger, huh?" Grandma said, taking some potatoes. "I bet he's real tough."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Aren't you a polite one? A lot of young men aren't polite like that these days. Ranger's real polite too when he comes to dinner."
Hal choked a little on his first bite of pot roast. Guess it never occurred to him Ranger might do something as human as attend a family dinner at my mother's house.
Actually, Ranger had threatened to chain me naked to a streetlight if I ever told Tank.
I leaned into Hal once he'd gotten control of himself. "Probably best not to spread that around. Ranger wouldn't like it."
He shook his head adamantly.
Little two-year-old Lisa threw some of her potatoes. Valerie corrected her and gave her more carrots. Ever patient. She had way more patience than I would ever have.
"So, what is it you do for Ranger?" Grandma pressed on.
Hal shifted in his seat. Unsure how to answer. He glanced at me, but I could only give him a palms up gesture. I didn't know what he did aside from patrols and taking a turn at the computer that monitored the Rangeman fleet. Grandma wouldn't be impressed with that. I'm sure she was hoping he'd start listing the shootouts he'd been in.
Lisa started throwing her carrots too, heading toward a full on tantrum. Val tried to head it off, but it didn't work. She passed the baby blindly to her right. Hal's eyes went round when he found himself holding a squirming infant. The baby started to cry while Hal held her out like she was a bomb with a ticking clock. I offered to take her, but before I got a chance, a jet of spit up landed on Hal's clean black Rangeman uniform.
Everyone stared at a wide-eyed Hal.
"I'm so sorry," Val said, taking the baby again. "You should rinse that out right away or it'll stain. Spit up doesn't come out of black."
Hal nodded obediently and stood. Then he stripped the shirt off right there at the table. His broad chest and thick, muscular arms flexed in the effort. He had a washboard stomach, too, and very little neck between his massive shoulders. Everyone at the table continued to stare. Even my father looked up from his pot roast, his mouth hanging open with his fork suspended forgotten in the air. I popped out of my seat.
"You can take it through there into the kitchen," I said, pointing the way. "Rinse it out in the sink. I'm sure it'll be fine."
He nodded and headed into the kitchen. I sat in my seat again, all eyes on me now that Hal was gone. Grandma was beaming. "You bring the best dates to dinner."
"This isn't a date," I tried to say, but Grandma wasn't listening anyway.
"He's a looker, too. Not as handsome as Joseph or Ranger, but he's got a hot bod."
"Jesus," my father said, turning with determination back to his dinner.
"I think it's time for cake," my mother volunteered, jumping out of her seat. She headed into the kitchen. Might have been checking to make sure Hal wasn't causing trouble. Could have been an excuse to get to the bottle of Jack she kept in the cupboard above the stove. Probably both.
Val rocked the baby against her chest. "I hope that doesn't cause any problems. I know Ranger can be strict." Which was the polite way of saying that Ranger could be a real hardass. Truth is, though, that Ranger wouldn't get bent out of shape over a ruined uniform. Ranger doesn't even blink when I destroy his personal mega-bucks Porsches. In fact if Ranger was here right now he'd be laughing his ass off, which was a rare sight considering how dark and serious his life usually is.
"It'll be fine. The only one who'll even notice is Ranger's housekeeper, Ella. She handles the laundry and orders the uniforms."
Val looked relieved. "I don't know how I'm going to manage with five."
"Five?"
Val was shocked with herself for a second. She hadn't intended to say it out loud. She leaned into me to be sure no one else could hear. "I realized this morning that I'm late. I should have known. I've been tired lately, and my boobs are sore. I'll need to take a test to make sure, but that's how it was with all the others."
"Jeez. Does Albert know?"
"Not yet. I wanted to make sure before I said anything."
"Of course," I said, nodding in a numb kind of way. My brain had started counting back on its own and I was trying desperately to ignore it. "How late are you?"
"Six days. That's an almost sure sign."
Crap. I looked at the calendar my mother had hung on the wall just inside the open kitchen doorway. I couldn't really see it from there, but then I didn't really need to. I'd done the math when I came back from Hawaii. Panic was bubbling up in my chest and I had to swallow it back.
I was a couple days late too.