Chapter Nineteen

The street was filled with flashing emergency lights and loitering bodies when the 911 Turbo pulled up to the curb next to me. Ranger angled out of the Porsche, scanning me before he looked at his men. Paramedics were wheeling Cal toward the ambulance, strapped to a gurney. Hal had a red, fist shaped bruise growing on the side of his face to go with his cut lip and bloody knuckles. Binky was rumpled. As if someone had tried to shirt him like they were in the middle of a hockey game. Bruises on his jaw and temple to match the cuts. Walker and his friends had fared worse. Cuffed and bloody in the back of the police cars. Only Ramon and I were unscathed.

Ranger glared at them like they were in trouble. I knew it was just the hardass routine. They might not have seen it, but there was a tiny bit of humor hidden behind his eyes. "A barfight?" he asked Hal. Hal colored.

"They started it," Binky mumbled quiet enough that I was sure we weren't meant to hear. This time Ranger couldn't keep the smile from twitching at the corner of his mouth. It was taking all his determination not to laugh his ass off.

"Get patched up and get back to work while I clean up your mess."

They didn't need to be told twice. Hal and Binky retreated.

Ranger's eyes caught Ramon's when he moved to follow them. "Transport Walker to the police station. See he's all tucked in for the night." Ramon gave him an almost nod and followed the others. Ranger didn't make any further effort to hide his amusement when he turned to face me. Looking me over one more time to make sure he hadn't missed anything. "You never disappoint."

"I aim to please."

His eyes warmed. "If I didn't have to deal with this, I'd take you back to Rangeman and find out."

"That bad?"

"Not really. But I'll have to follow Cal to St. Francis and get him checked in. Then there will be the police to deal with, reports to file. Might take a couple hours. You want to wait for me at Rangeman?"

I blew out a sigh. As tempting as that was, I was starting to second guess the wisdom of it. "I think it might be better to go home. It's late, and I kind of promised to pick up Terry Kroychek and give her a ride to the courthouse tomorrow."

If Ranger was disappointed by that, he didn't show it. "Understandable. Would you like me to stop by when I'm through here? See if you're still awake?"

"Only if you want to."

The wolf grin pulled up one corner of his mouth.

I got back into my silver Audi all by myself and started for home. The streets were dark and quiet. Hardly a soul. I know it was wimpy, but driving alone in the dark, it was kind of hard not to be a little creeped out. It was ominous. Like the city had stopped breathing.

I was nearly home when my phone rang, making me jump. Not a number I recognized. I hesitated before I answered it. "Hello?"

"Hey, babygirl."

Holy crap. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't Baller Thatch. That was why it took me an extra second to recognize the stress in his voice. I tried to keep my cool. "What's up?"

"You asked me to call if I heard anything from Mini."

"Is she alright?"

"She's alive. Though, how long she'll be able to stay that way is debatable. Can we talk?"

I could hear his reluctance. Didn't want to be making the call. Whatever he'd heard, he didn't like dragging me into it. "I'm all ears," I told him.

"Unfortunately, this isn't a matter that can be discussed over the telephone."

"You want Ranger and me to meet you at your club?"

"No. That's not an option either. Too many eyes. Could you come to the carwash on 3rd street? Alone?"

I bit my lip. In the movies, when the drug dealer asks the heroine to go somewhere alone, it never turns out well for her. Trouble was, there was a little voice deep in the back of my mind that trusted Baller Thatch. Stupid, right? It was probably the same part of my brain that thought a flimsy down pillow made decent building material. But I couldn't shake it. He sounded desperate. And a little afraid. "No Ranger?"

"No Ranger."

"Alright. When?"

"Does now work for you?"

Oh boy. Hearing the fear in his voice was starting to make me scared too. "Fine. I'll be there in ten," I said and disconnected. I made a u-turn and started for 3rd. I debated calling Ranger. Thatch might not trust him, but I did. But I was afraid he might tell me not to go. And then I'd have to openly defy him, which wouldn't work out well for either of us. Stupid Stephanie was practically yelling in the back of my brain. Add that to the sense of impending doom, and I was pretty well set in my decision.

A few security lights were the only signs the carwash was operating. It was one of those automated deals. Feed in the coins. Drive on through. I didn't see any other cars in the area. The place was deserted. I pulled up to the carwash lane and looked around. That was when someone tried to open my passenger side door. I jumped. Grateful for the automatic door locks. The dark shadow knocked and bent enough to peer in. It was Thatch. I unlocked the doors.

"Pull in," he directed. It was weird to see him in black sweats. It was nothing like the swagger he'd had in the tan suit and peacock blue vest. His neck looked even thicker in the hoody. A thin layer of perspiration beading across his brow. I did as he asked. Inched my Audi forward until we were surrounded on all sides by the concrete carwash and bright, shaggy brushes. The equipment started humming as soon as my car was in position. Drowning out the world. "I'm sorry for this. Clandestine meetings aren't really my thing."

"Why didn't you want Ranger to come?"

"You want the honest answer?" he asked, looking at me at last. "It's because that man scares the shit out of me."

My laugh broke through the tension and he smiled. "So why couldn't I meet you at the club?" I asked him. "Who's eyes are you avoiding? The cops?"

"More than just the cops. There are some bad people out there. I didn't want to mix you up in this at all, but I'm kind of running out of options."

"You need my help."

"Yes. Mini is wrapped up in some bad shit, and it's only getting worse now that there's blood on the ground."

"What have you heard?"

"Someone tried to move in on Delgado and Marquez. And Delgado's pissed. Gearing up for war. Mini's made herself scarce, but all the bushes are getting beaten and she's afraid she'll get flushed out. I tried to tell her she could trust you. That because of Ranger, you had the resources to protect her."

"We do. But we need to know who's after her."

Thatch wet his lips. The brushes were whipping the outside of the car, playing shadows over us in the close interior. "She didn't say. But I know who she was talking to when all the trouble started. Dude named Alvarez. He had some connection to one of the cartels, out of Juarez. Somebody's brother's cousin's step-dad or some shit. Got him inside information that he was trading to the cops to avoid prosecution. But Mini started looking into it and found out he was still moving. She was tracing bad merchandise, and it just kept coming back to him. She found him and confronted him about it. Next day he was gone. Scurrying back to whatever rathole he crawled out of."

"So why did she go underground? She wasn't just afraid she'd go to jail."

"Naw. She knew those charges wouldn't stick. Rule number one in this business. Get a good lawyer. And I've got Davis Blake. He's the best in the city. None of my people go to jail unless they do something seriously stupid. But showing up to court isn't a good move for her right now, if you know what I mean."

I did. Even shit charges could get you killed with the wrong circumstances.

The light at the end of the carwash turned green and the fan started roaring, indicating time was up. I pulled forward. Letting the water bead up and streak backward over my windshield. "So, Mini wants one of our safe houses?"

"That's the problem. Mini's a little short on trust these days. She's not willing to take even my word for it. But if I could give her a guarantee, I might be able to convince her."

"Anything."

"You don't need to talk to Ranger first?"

"I know Ranger. Trust me. She'll be a lot safer with us than on her own."

Thatch nodded. "I'll relay the message."

I pulled the car out of the concrete box and into the shadows behind the carwash. Thatch put a hand on the door handle. "Thank you, babygirl." And then a pop shattered my passenger side window. Thatch looked at me with round eyes. The front of his sweatshirt glistening in the darkness.

"Omigod. Omigod!" I put both hands on his chest. Like it would stop the flow of red from spilling up over my fingers. My eyes flew around the darkness until I saw a man approaching. The nickel slide on his Glock flashed in the shadows. Two men stood behind him. One seemed unarmed, but the other was brandishing a weapon, too. Laughing as they watched Thatch bleed. I remembered the gun on my hip when I saw the muzzle rise. Prayed that I could get to it before he could take me out. There was another pop and the man's shoulder rolled back in a spray of red. He fell to the ground. The other two started running. Men in black flew past my window, but it was too hard to focus. I flinched when my door wrenched open behind me.

"Babe." Warm arms surrounded me and my tears spilled over. "It's okay. You can let go. We've got him." One of Ranger's guys was climbing into the car behind us. Dropped Thatch's seat back so that he could apply pressure to his chest wound. Ranger gathered me up and pulled me out of the car so that another could take my place behind the wheel. My arms went around his neck. Clinging for dear life. He held me tight. "Head straight to St. Francis. They'll be waiting in the emergency bay," he told Zip. Zip nodded and angled into the car. Ranger looked down at me, kissing my temple. "Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"The blood?"

"All Thatcher's."

He let out a silent breath and a little of the tension eased in his body. Siren's chirped with the arrival of the flashing police cars. My friend Eddie Gazarra was there. He turned a little white when he saw the blood. "Is she—"

"It's not hers. Archibald Thatcher was shot in her car. He's on his way to St. Francis. Vince has the gunman in custody, also on his way to St. Francis. I'm taking Stephanie home. Any statements you need can be made in the morning."

Eddie nodded. Ranger didn't wait to see if he'd stop us. He just pulled me toward the 911. "There were two more," I told him. Trying to keep my body from shaking.

"We're aware. Raphael and Woody are in pursuit."

"Don't you need to oversee all this stuff?"

"Not tonight. Tank can handle it."

Another thing I could be grateful for. I wasn't particularly excited about the prospect of being alone. I could put on a brave face, but underneath it I was a mess. Fully aware of what might have happened.

"Tomorrow, we're going to discuss why you thought it necessary to have an unsecured meeting with a drug dealer without calling for backup."

That sounded fun. At least he was willing to postpone the lecture until morning. He opened my door and guided me into the seat, showing no concern at all for the blood I was getting in his car. He got into his own seat and revved away from the scene. It took me a second to realize we weren't heading for my apartment. "Where are we going?"

"Rangeman."

"I need to go home."

"Babe. You were just involved in a shooting. There's no guarantee Thatcher was the only intended target."

"You're not putting me on lockdown."

"It's not lockdown. I'd just be happier if you were secured tonight."

"I can be secured in my own apartment."

Ranger cut his eyes to me. Trying to read my face. "Are you sure?"

No. But if I hid in Ranger's apartment every time I was afraid, I'd move in there and never come out. Which would cause more problems than it solved. "I'm sure."

He didn't like it, but he didn't argue. I had no doubt he intended to stay with me, no matter where I ended up. That was actually kind of comforting. Until we pulled into the parking lot at my apartment building and saw a green SUV waiting for us.

Morelli was there before the car stopped moving. Yanked my door open and pulled me to him. "Eddie called me. Said you'd left the scene, so I came straight here." He looked me over, taking in the blood on my hands. "You're not—"

"I'm okay. It's not mine."

He squeezed me tight again. "Thank God." I felt it when he went ridged. Ranger had gotten out of the car. "I oughta kick your ass for this, Manoso. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"It wasn't his fault, Joe. It was mine. I went to see Thatcher on my own. Ranger didn't even know Thatcher had called me."

"You should have asked for backup."

"I know. Ranger said the same thing."

A muscle was working in Joe's jaw as he glared at Ranger. Hating that they agreed on something. "I suppose he found you with that damn tracking system he's always sneaking onto your car?"

"Stephanie is fully aware of the GPS unit and where it is. And yes. My control room noticed her double back and thought it was suspicious. We arrived just in time to see shots fired."

"You catch the sonofabitch?"

"One out of three. I hope to improve that ratio before the night's out. The gunman is already at St. Francis with a GSW to the chest."

"I'm surprised he's still breathing."

"Dead men can't give up their associates."

Joe was still angry, but he couldn't seem to find any fault in that. As much as he wanted to. The muscle ticked in his jaw again. Trying to unclench his teeth. "Thank you."

From the tension, I'd guess it took every bit of his dignity to say. Ranger didn't look any more willing to accept it than Joe was willing to offer, but he nodded anyway. Then his eyes fell on me. His face cold and unreadable. "She's on your watch." Joe acknowledged that. His arms still wrapped around me, my face pressed against his chest. Ranger's dark eyes held mine a second. And then he got back into his Porsche and drove away.