Stephanie
Isabelle settled in at her new school. Her uniforms fit better than the ones Valerie purchased from McCarthy's. She loved her teachers and found the children were kinder than Holy Rosary. The first week took a bit for her to adapt to the change in school structure. "Did you know that Saint Michaels Academy has a program for gifted students?" Isabelle asked as she entered my office. It was actually Lester's office, which he kindly shared, but he was in the gym.
"I believe Hector mentioned something about it," I replied. "Why?"
"They want to test me. You and dad have to sign off on the paperwork," Isabelle replied. She started calling Carlos dad whenever she was at home. In public, she referred to him as Ranger.
"Is that something you want?" I asked.
"Absolutely," she replied. I listened to Isabelle talk about the advanced placement science program as she removed the document from her backpack. She was excited to enhance her education. The Academy taught children from kindergarten to grade twelve. Isabelle bounced on her toes as I signed the permission slip for testing. She grabbed the papers and ran out the door. I heard her peals of laughter as she caught Carlos unaware. It was hilarious when she said, "You need to be more aware of your surroundings." He had often said those words to his men whenever he suddenly appeared behind them.
Valerie had called Rangeman demanding to speak with her daughter but hit a brick wall every time. Everyone employed in the Trenton office knew Isabelle was my biological daughter. At Isabelle's insistence, the core team created a protocol regarding who could contact Isabelle from outside the business. Her friend Abby, from Holy Rosary, was permitted to visit.
When Isabelle returned, I noticed Carlos had signed her form. "Your father's trial started yesterday," I said, hoping she'd want to talk about it.
"I know. It doesn't sound too good for him." Isabelle removed her phone from her pocket to play the message from Valerie. "I blocked her mobile number, but not the landline in case Angie or Mary Alice wants to talk to me," Isabelle explained. It made perfect sense. Her sisters were innocent.
"Belle," Valerie said, "I need you to contact daddy's lawyer. He needs you as a character witness. You have to tell the judge that your daddy would never harm a hair on your head. Think about how this looks for your sisters. It's already disgusting that your worthless Aunt kidnapped you from school. Always remember that she didn't want you. While visiting your daddy's lawyer, tell him you want to come home. I know you'll do the right thing. What would the neighbours think? Come home, Belle. We miss you."
Isabelle nearly erased the message. "Keep it," I gently said. "I can get Hector to remove it from your phone. He can store it in a secure location." Isabelle thought it was a great idea and texted him. She didn't need my help. I loved how resourceful and independent my daughter was.
After tucking the permission form into the inside pocket of her backpack, Isabelle announced, "I'm going to the second floor. Tio Hector has a space where I can do homework. See you later, mom." Isabelle kissed my cheek before leaving the office.
I should be thankful that Valerie did a great job raising my daughter until now. Alas, I was not. Isabelle and I talked about her life in the Morelli home. The Morelli family, except Angie and Mary Alice, ridiculed Isabelle and admonished her if she displayed the despicable behaviours of her aunt, meaning me.
When a thought popped into my mind, I opened a new search on the Rangeman program. It didn't take long to set up the life insurance policy. I was surprised that Frank had never considered the high payout. "Little girl, what are you planning?" Tank asked, while he was leaning on the doorframe.
"Nothing?"
"I know that evil smirk. Spill," he ordered. I giggled, then motioned for him to grab a chair. He dragged it around the desk to sit beside me. "Sweet. Are you anticipating that?"
"Absolutely. I may not like Saint Valerie, but my nieces shouldn't needlessly suffer for their mother's delusions."
"Are you taking bets?" I grinned at my husband's second-in-command and best friend. "I'm willing to put one hundred bucks that it happens in prison with a shank."
My grin changed to a smirk. I grabbed the notepad from my desk to jot down the details. Tank signed and initialled his name. He patiently waited while I wrote, "Accident during transport."
"No specifics?" Tank asked.
"Nope. I will leave that for the cosmos to determine. Can you get bets from the others? I promised Carlos I wouldn't. He said I had an unfair advantage."
"You do. Only because you likely can see the outcome. I'm sure other events could change the trajectory. Who knows? Maybe the other men see the same as you," Tank suggested. He kissed my curls and left me to my work.
Tank returned a few hours later with my notebook. I opened the pages to see Carlos, Bobby, Hector, and Cal had said the same as me. It was a significant coincidence. "Why did they add bets for the other criminal?" I asked. I shook my head, then added to the page. "The winner has to donate the funds to a charity of their choice."
I briefly left Lester's office to stash the notepad in my safe Carlos got installed in our closet. He didn't have the code and promised not to crack it. "You couldn't resist?" Carlos asked. Carlos didn't sneak up on me because I had anticipated the move.
"Nope." I let Carlos pull me to a standing position. His arms wrapped around me. "I told Tank the winner has to donate the loot to a charity."
"Rangeman will match the donation," he replied. Carlos tenderly kissed my lips. "I got news on Helen's trial."
"So soon?" I asked. I pressed a finger against his lips, preventing Carlos from answering. "You had a man inside. Who?"
"Jeanelle." Jeanne Ellen could blend in anywhere. She was the best choice since Helen the viper Plum wouldn't suspect Jeanne of being a Rangeman plant.
"Perfect. What did Helen have to say?" It didn't surprise anyone when Helen said everything was lies I had orchestrated. The vapid bitch refused to acknowledge the email evidence the prosecution received from the police department. "No doubt that she'd eventually blame me," I grumbled. "I'm waiting for Helen to say I used my sexual prowess to get a computer nerd to plant the evidence."
Carlos chuckled. It was a pleasant sound. "Are you returning to five?"
Sighing, I replied, "Yes. I have a few more things to research. Am I really working with Tank tomorrow?" Carlos swatted my ass and said his typical one-word answer of "babe," which didn't provide any insight yet left much to interpretation.
We worked for another few hours before Isabelle announced it was nearly time for Ella to bring our dinner. She barely gave me time to log off the Rangeman programs. Isabelle grabbed my arm, dragging me to the elevator. Apparently, she could literally eat a whole cow. We had a quiet evening and retired earlier than anticipated. I was too mentally exhausted to keep my eyes open past the opening credits of the movie Isabelle wanted to watch.
The following morning, I was on car wash duty with Tank. You would think the building had an area to wash the vehicles, but they don't. After what happened today, they should seriously reconsider designating a space for the purpose. We washed three cars without incident.
Tank was driving the SUV while I gave him the numeric codes. Rangeman received a discount at the Get Away Clean car wash. Who the heck names their car wash such a silly name? It must have been the reason for Carlos to sign a mutual contract with them because only Carlos would find the name amusing. I rolled my eyes and gave Tank the digits. He entered them into the keypad and drove the car forward a few feet until the track to pull the car through the tunnel locked onto the front tire. Tank put the car in neutral. His eyes widened slightly when the window didn't roll up.
I thought Tank was pulling my leg, but when the water sprayed into the car, soaking our clothes, I knew he was serious. Without overthinking, I removed my jacket after I started recording the event. Carlos would never believe me without proof.
He tried to cover the window, but my jacket wasn't large enough to cover the opening. However, it did stop us from the worst of the process. My eyes widened when Tank groaned. I tried not to laugh. Honestly, I did, but I couldn't control the giggle from passing my lips. Tank explained that a crumb got stuck, preventing him from rolling up the window. When the controls got wet, it worked again. I found it particularly funny.
We returned to Rangeman soaking wet. Thankfully, the bubbles dissipated by the time we arrived. Tank's face was devoid of expression. I watched for some semblance of a reaction as we parked in the spot assigned for the SUV. He stared at me. "We don't talk about this. Ever," he quietly said.
"Why is your head shiny?" I asked. Before Tank could answer, I snapped my fingers, pointed at him and said, "Right. We got the wax." Tank gave me a deadpan stare. I couldn't stop the laughter from erupting. When I opened the passenger door, I fell out, uncontrollably laughing, landing on my knees. It was hilarious because nothing gets past Tank.
The elevator doors opened. Five black-clad bodies leaped out to help. Their faces were frozen in horror when they saw my soaked clothes and tears streaming down my face. I saw Ranger give Tank a look that said, "What the fuck?" I doubled over, groaning from laughing too hard.
"Bobby!" Ranger yelled when he saw me. He thought I was covered in blood, writhing in pain, which made me clutch my stomach harder. Bobby ran over to check me over. Lester kneeled beside me. I passed him my phone when I couldn't form the words to explain what had happened.
Lester played the video, then burst out laughing. He used my phone to send the recording Rangeman-wide. "It's not blood, Ranger," Lester said through laughter. "They had a car wash accident."
Ranger raised an eyebrow as he approached me. I pointed to Tank and said, "His head got waxed." Then men laughed as Tank looked on as though the teasing didn't bother him. Tank stoically stood there dripping wet, with a waxed head, and his arms folded across his chest.
"Let it out, Little Girl," Tank said. "Don't hold back on my account." I looked at Tank and snorted.
"Babe?" Ranger asked, lifting me off the garage floor. His shirt got damp from mine. Lester returned my phone before we entered the elevator.
Carlos helped me remove the tight, wet clothes, then carried me into the bathroom. He started the shower to help me wash the soap and wax residue from my hair. "I think you need to take me off car wash duty," I deadpanned. Carlos smiled and agreed.
"How did the window stick?" Carlos asked as I dried my skin.
"Something got stuck beneath the button on Rangeman SUV six. When he pulled on the button, it wouldn't budge. It's not an issue now, but the men should refrain from eating in the vehicles," I replied. Carlos laughed and bent over. "What's so funny?"
"Tank was the last man to drive that vehicle before today," Carlos answered. I burst out laughing again.
"There's a lesson to be learned, but I think he failed that test."
"Only you, Babe," Carlos said. We had our laughter at Tank's expense. I wouldn't be surprised if Tank issued an order preventing the men from eating inside the vehicles. Maybe, he'd recommend they vacuum the car before returning it to the fleet.
"Can Al repair the damage?" I asked.
"He said to let it dry out and test the mechanics tomorrow," Carlos replied.
Valerie
Salvatore Gallo was Joey's lawyer. Mooch (Michael) Morelli was married to Gallo's daughter, Shirley. "Did Belle meet with you?" I asked when he approached me.
"Not yet. I don't expect Belle to call," Sal replied.
"Why not? I told her to call you. She needs to help get her dad." I wasn't amused. Those thugs in Rangeman were preventing my daughter from doing the right thing. Angie and Mary Alice need their father at home. What will we do without his income? His TPD pension would disappear if he got convicted. How would we survive?
Sal passed me a legal document. "Belle got legal representation. That's the proof her adoption got overturned. Let it go, Mrs. Morelli. You can't force her to be a character witness," he sternly said. I opened my mouth to talk, but he shook his head. "Coercion looks worse. It would only backfire on your husband." I took it for the warning he intended. Belle refused to help her father. I couldn't force her to comply with my wishes. Damn Stephanie. Why did she have to ruin everything?
I entered the courtroom to listen to Joey's trial. There seemed to be a lot of speculation. Circumstantial evidence. How could they put him on trial for this nonsense?
"Everyone, stand for the honourable Judge Judith Sterling." My stomach felt queasy as I stood. When the judge asked us to take our seats, I grabbed a ginger lemon drop from my purse and popped it into my mouth. I was mad at Joey for messing with our contraception, but I hoped to give daddy a grandson.
Thinking about my dad made me wonder why he didn't come home to help mom. Grandma would go to mom's trial since I had to be home for the girls. I listened as the prosecution entered Belle's statement into the evidence.
"Your honour. I have not been able to cross-examine the witness to verify the validity of the claims," Gallo said. "I move to have the deposition stricken from evidence."
"Counsel?" Sterling asked.
"I spoke to Isabelle Morelli with her mother present…" the prosecutor said before I interrupted.
"Excuse me, your honour. But I am Isabelle Morelli's mother, and I was not present while she was getting interrogated," I calmly said.
"Who are you?" Sterling asked.
"Valerie Helen Morelli," I replied. "Isabelle's adoptive mother."
"Your honour. Before the court reconvened today, I gave Mrs. Morelli the documents from the family court. Valerie Morelli is not Isabelle Morelli's mother. She is the stepmother and aunt," the prosecutor stated. He had already entered the paperwork into the case docket.
The judge flipped through a few pages. She smiled at me and said, "Stephanie Michelle Plum is Isabelle Plum's mother of record."
"What? How is that possible?" I asked.
"It is a matter for the family courts. We're here to try your husband, Joseph Morelli, for his crimes. Please be seated," Sterling ordered. "Continue counsel." I knew another interruption would get me charged with contempt.
The prosecutor glared at me before facing the judge. "I have a deposition from Isabelle Morelli. She witnessed Joseph Morelli placing the stolen evidence into Valerie Morelli's van. Isabelle managed to record the action. She relinquished the footage to the Trenton Police detectives when they arrived at the Morelli's residence with a search warrant."
What the hell? Why would Joey do that to me?
"How can we be sure the evidence wasn't created by Rangeman?" Gallo asked.
"Objection, your honour. The defence does not have substantiating evidence for his claim," the prosecutor said. I heard Joey mumble thugs and criminals. Gallo glared at Joey, making him stop mumbling.
"Sustained." Sterling warned Gallo not to waste the court's time. He replied with an apology, then took his seat.
I didn't understand why Isabelle would record her father. Did someone at Rangeman pay her? I shook my head and dismissed the thought. Isabelle didn't know anyone from Rangeman when she got the footage. There had to be another explanation.
Just as I thought Joey's lawyer started to make some headway, the prosecutor entered the conversation between my mom and Joey into evidence. Joe only married me for the money? What the fuck? Wait. Why didn't I receive part of the inheritance?
"Your honour, I enter the following recording into evidence," the prosecutor announced. Gallo knew of the recording and only allowed a portion of it to get played for the jury.
I listened as Gallo asked, "I have to know, did you take them?"
Joey replied, "Of course I did. How else can I protect my soulmate? We can't get married until I get that money from my bastard daughter. When I milk the child for all the money she owns, I will divorce that viper I married. She can keep the girls since they're useless to me, but if the child she's carrying is a boy, he's mine."
I was merely a payoff. Why me? How could Joey do this to me? Hearing my mother and Joseph were only using me for some imaginary inheritance made my heart ache. Everything fell into place. I had to divorce Joseph Morelli before I lost everything. Please, God, make my baby a girl.
The judge dismissed the case for the day. She would reconvene in the morning. I won't be returning. Joe called out to me as I left the courtroom. He wanted to talk. I had nothing to say.
A man approached me as I exited the courthouse. "Ma'am, my name is Paul Houston. I want to represent you in your divorce."
Squinting my eyes at him, I said, "Sure. How much do you charge?"
"Nothing."
"What do you want in exchange?" I asked. Men don't help women for free.
"Nothing. I assure you, ma'am. I'm doing this to protect your daughters," Paul replied. "You need to strike while you can still ensure your financial security. Your husband's assets and bank accounts are inaccessible. Are you willing to risk not affording food for your daughters?"
I had access to our joint chequing account at First Trenton bank. The tellers wouldn't allow me to withdraw more than I required to purchase groceries. My other household expenses got automatically paid. "I can still access the money," I insisted.
"Have you tried?" Paul asked. I shook my head. He got me to accompany him to the diner across the street. I used my debit card to pay for my drink. It got declined.
"How am I supposed to buy groceries?" I whined.
"You can't. I'm here to help." Paul paid for my drink and a sandwich. We sat at the counter and discussed my pending divorce. He asked for my mobile number to contact me when the documents were ready for me to sign. I thanked him for his assistance.
The girls patiently waited for me to pick them up from school. Angie needed money for a field trip, but I didn't have enough cash in my wallet. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I don't have enough money in my wallet. The bank closed for the day. I'll get the money tomorrow," I promised.
Angie helped me prepare dinner while Mary Alice sat at the table with her homework. We ate our meal in silence. I sent the children to bed when my phone rang. "Hello," I answered.
"Mrs. Morelli, it's Paul Houston. I have the documents for you to sign. Are you available?"
"Yes," I replied. I gave him the home address since I couldn't leave the girls unattended. He arrived a few minutes late and I signed away my marriage.
"I'll file these immediately," Paul said. He checked his watch. "I have until nine to submit the petition to the records department," he explained. Paul excused himself. He left the house and drove away. I closed and locked the door. Shit! I forgot to ask what law firm he represented.