Chapter 4
28th
When gossip begins to cool, some little spark can reignite it. Such happened with the St. James street fire, bones were found in the ash and Stephanie Plum was missing. Never mind the bones discovered were unmelted plastic from somebody's anatomy class. model. Reality had no bearing on gossip. Suddenly the Burg starting rehashing Joe's relationship with Stephanie with regard to her various mishaps; perhaps not all her car explosions were due to leaky fuel lines but rather some-ONE trying to kill her. For the next few days newspaper photos showing Joe waving his arms, yelling at her in public were posted. Another day an exposé was run showing Joe and Terry in high school to the present. Word began to circulate that Helen was constantly pushing Stephanie to the abusive Joe Morelli. What was Helen's role in this? Did she, not Terry, arrange for Stephanie to die in the fire?
By New Year's Eve Helen found herself at the center of controversy including being questioned by police. For years she had used her daughter to create a martyr image of her, "poor me, I have Stephanie as a daughter." Now people were casting disparaging comments about her, but of course, Helen's retort was it was all Stephanie's fault; dead or alive, it was always Stephanie's fault.
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Tank walked into Rangeman and went to his office. The paper stack was impressive for a week's absence. Tank sighed, Lester, was still learning how to run the business. He was excellent leading a squad or company, but had always had trouble with the nitty-gritty paperwork. Nobody liked it, including him.
After organizing the mess, he began signing the needed forms, making comments on new and old clients and looking over field reports from the security details. Rangeman was doing all of the Vincent Plum's captures, Lula had gone off to cosmetology school after Joe forced Stephanie to quit working for Vinnie and Rangeman. Harry the Hammer, Vinnie's father in law and owner of the business was hoping to sell the business to Rangeman. Ranger had favored the idea to keep someone else from moving in and snapping up high bonds that Rangeman already did. Tank would talk to the other two owners and the accountant.
A knock sounded on the door and Bobby stepped in closing the door behind him. Sitting down in front of Tank's desk he asked, "How is she?"
"She slept for over 24 hours and arose clear headed and thinking."
"I'm surprised. I was afraid she'd need professional help and almost overrode your decision to take her. But she's always been resilient; had to be to survive that…family."
Tank continued, "Yesterday she was exhausted like she hadn't slept at all. She was frightened, maybe nightmares. As you know I'm not one for coddling, I think that's one of the problems. When it came to Steph, Ranger tended to think with his balls instead of his brain. I haven't been in love like that so I shouldn't criticize. Anyway, I laid it on the line, tough love, she needs to change or these situations will continue. I hope I didn't go too far."
"You can be intimidating Big Guy, you scared the crap out of me, initially. Is she eating?"
"No. I don't stock the foods she eats. There's food, fresh fruit and vegetables, simple proteins, nuts, she won't starve unless she wants to. No sugar or alcohol either. It's one of the reasons I left her alone. She'll be detoxing and we've heard what she's like without sugar."
"Afraid she'd be too much for you?" Bobby kidded.
Tank growled, "I survived Lula."
"Seriously, no carry out nearby?"
"There isn't anything nearby and she has no car."
"What if she gets in trouble?"
"This is Bomber, Bobby, she's always in trouble. If the house burns down, there's an apartment over the garage."
"What's your next step?
"I'll go back New Years to see where she is mentally. I told her I'd stay and help her if she's serious. If not, she gets a one way bus ticket to anywhere but Trenton."
"Any early indications?"
"I suggested the military," Tank said offhandedly.
Bobby laughed, "She freaked right?"
"No."
Bobby's eyes grew wide, "She might enlist?"
"Shock treatment. It worked on us. Why not her? She's pig-headed, thinks outside of the box and when she's on the trail of an FTA, dogged like a terrier going to ground. Who does that sound like?"
"Oh hell, a young Ric. Tank, it would break her spirit."
"Combat for sure, but I mentioned law enforcement. She has the investigative mind, what she lacks is discipline," the big man said quietly. "Problem is she isn't 18 years old. She isn't in the greatest of shape, I'm not sure she could cut it as an MP, maybe CID. Once we work with her, she needs to talk to a recruiter who isn't trying to pad his enlistments."
"Personally speaking, I'd rather have that physically fit mind, trained mind, working here. She was uncanny at times." Bobby was remembering how they were often amazed how she solved cases none of them could obtain traction. She was the one who figured out who was breaking into Rangeman accounts nearly destroying the company.
Tank shook his head in agreement, "I agree, but she needs discipline, training…..something like Basic either as preparation for enlistment or for working here."
Bobby thought for a moment, "Could we do it? We have MPs here….Brett and Charlie for example. Ram can teach a blind man to shoot. You could teach her take downs and self-defense. I can do first aid and physical fitness, Hector IT. We have a training staff right here."
"What about Les? We shouldn't leave him out."
Laughing Bobby snorted, "Training dummy."
Bobby got up and paced a bit, "She could get the investigative training as a civilian, and we could front the schooling while she continues to work here. If she goes military we lose her for at least four years, if not forever."
Tank watched Bobby. Was he in love with Stephanie? Bobby has been dating a doctor in Princeton. "It's her choice, Bobby. She might want to leave the area entirely. However I believe she has the lady cojones to stand up to everyone here, once she believes in herself and has the skills to be as good as she has shown signs before."
"Female cojones did I miss that in anatomy class?" Bobby smiled. "Let's say she does come back, what will Ranger say?"
"Every fiber of my being knows where he's gone but the handlers of course are mum. Ranger's chances of coming back are low. Impossible mission and his heart is dead."
"Because of Stephanie," Bobby whispered. He had seen over and over how soldiers who had lost their will, their spirit, came home in a box.
"The bastard he's going after, Guzman, swore vengeance on all the initial team and their families. He's been picking us off for years. I promised I would protect her for as long as I can." Tank stood and walked to a bulletproof window and stared for a while…remembering:
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"Tank, I need you to keep an eye on her as always."
"She's got Joe now, he'll take care of her."
"Do you really believe that?"
"No."
Ranger put his head in his hands, "I should have moved on, but after the Slayers, I couldn't."
"No Ric you were hooked before that. How many times did I sit in her parking lot waiting for you while you went to her apartment before a mission?"
"She made her choice, she chose him."
"But HE hasn't. It was a pissing contest between the two of you and you lost. He probably loves her in some way but he's never been monogamous, even now he's still chasing tail," Tank said. "You couldn't commit to her with Guzman still around."
"IF he marries her, it will be as short as her marriage to that DickHead attorney or worse, kids and a divorce."
"Would Hector's file help?" Tank asked.
"No, she suspects but has ignored it. Sometimes it just needs to hit you in the face."
"And you want me to wipe her face and pick up the shattered pieces?"
"No, keep her from sinking and self-destructing."
"At least you didn't ask me to marry her."
"…Only if I'm dead," Ranger mumbled as he walked away.
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"Bobby, I haven't finalized a training program, but I'm going back with winter gear. We have to break down the whiney Stephanie before we rebuild," Tank said as he moved away from the window.
"January Basic, she's going to love that!"
"I'll work with her for a few weeks then bring her back here, Safe House 3. We'll work out assignments tomorrow."
Tank returned to his desk and sat, "Now what's the word around town?"
Bobby chuckled, "Bones were found in the apartment fire debris. Word circulating is they are Stephanie's and that either Terry, Joe, or Helen had the apartment building burned. Gossip line is buzzing, never mind the police knew the bones were unmelted plastic from an anatomical model. Fire cause was a space heater on the first floor.
Joe finally showed up here looking for Stephanie. I didn't show him the videos from Christmas morning, he might come back with a warrant if he ever gets his brain out from between his legs. He was his usual "cool" self; we've got him making racists comments in our lobby."
"What did the idiot say?"
"Oh the usual slams against the men and Ranger, thugs and convicts; called Stephanie a whore and me Sambo."
Tank just huffed. "Sensitivity training did him wonders. Speaking of which, we can feed Les some info for the gossip line. Joe's engagement ring is cubic zirconia. Some jeweler in town gave her the bad news."
Bobby howled, "We don't need Lester, I'd gladly start that one myself."
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Stephanie woke up late, nearly 10 am. Once again her pillow was soaked with tears, her eyes puffy and red. She was exhausted, as if she had been up all night and not slept….maybe she hadn't. Her dreams were not all memories, there was new information. Was it her imagination, repressed memories or somehow had her grandfather led her on "real" journeys?
Just how often had she failed in her apprehensions getting herself into further trouble because she had steadfastly refused to learn takedowns, disarming suspects, and trying to do something she had no knowledge? Could she remember all the black eyes or chin bruises she had because she didn't know self-defense? There was a reason Rangeman employees traveled in teams, for protection and backup. Lula was a friend but also a liability.
Her obstinate nature kept her from moving from her unsecure apartment. Why? It dated back to when she worked for EE Martin and was moving up. OK, that and it was one of the cheapest apartments without getting close to Stark Street. She needed to live away from home to prove she was independent of her mother, but refused to move to Newark. According to her mother only thugs lived in Newark.
She finished drying her hair and went downstairs. Without really thinking about it, she scrambled several eggs and made toast. It wasn't through rote memory, she had watched her mother, grandmother, Joe and Ranger plus her mind was elsewhere. It wasn't any harder than toasted cheese sandwiches, if you used enough butter. Wishing she had jelly for the toast, she looked in the refrigerator again in case Grandpa Mazur left some off. Instead she found the jar of coffee from yesterday and heated that up for breakfast.
She took her plate to eating counter next to the yellow paper pad and pen. She would eat and think.
Why had she allowed her mother to lead her life? After scratching down several possible reasons she remembered Anthony Franco Plum. Her mother didn't want her, she wanted Anthony. No matter what she did, her mother never said "well done" or even "I love you." Eventually she retreated into her alternate universe with Wonder Woman, Superman and Batman where problems were overcome; people protected, cities saved, bad guys put away and the super hero received, if not adulation, at least acknowledgement. That's why she loved being a BA, it was being a super hero; or in her case a pale version of a super hero. Wonder Woman didn't roll in garbage, Superman was never hurt, and the batmobile didn't blow up. The look she received from Robin at TPD and the Rangeman was her reward.
She did not want to live a life like her mother; clean windows, pot roast on Friday, and children she didn't love. She needed action. If she were into drugs she might have taken speed in her younger days, instead she used sugar. Sugar was her fuel but it was a link, the last link to a hopeful loving relationship with her mother. Stephanie wanted to believe each cake, each pudding or pie made by her mother was just for her. Punishments included being excluded from dessert. So each bite of pineapple upside down cake she consumed was her mother showing approval, right? No, it was Helen's duty to provide a full meal for her husband. It didn't matter if Stephanie was present or not for dinner, dessert was a constant.
Was her being a bond apprehension agent her attempt for approval? Was she seeking approval from her mentor, Ranger? If Rangeman were not in the picture, would she still be a BA? No, she'd probably be dead due to her incompetence. Did she like being a BA? Surprisingly, the answer was yes. She liked the hunt, she liked the law enforcement part and once in a while helping people who needed a hand.
Why did she not want to be a better bond agent? Lazy, yeah, obstinate, yeah, but there was one other reason: If she appeared she needed help, Ranger or one of the men was there immediately. She admired how the guys handled each apprehension; they had the background, assessed the possible scenarios and then confidently acted. She had nothing.
If she wanted to be a better BA or go into some other law enforcement job, she needed training, a lot of training. Tank said she needed discipline and from there comes confidence. The only way she saw of building confidence through discipline was the military.
She was 30 plus years old and while not fat, she was not in shape. She needed to pull herself together; begin an exercise program and study the books in Tank's library. There was also feeding herself, laundry, caring for Tank's house, she needed a schedule.
After cleaning the kitchen she donned her boots and set off for the beach; always a good location to begin life changes. The beach was rocky and dangerous as Tank had said making her believe she might be above Cape Cod. Still she quick walked at best she could for 30 minutes before convinced she had become an icicle and returned indoors. She had her first check on schedule sheet, 30 minutes exercise. Laundry and dust mopping the floors were the second check. The third was study with the books in the library. Dinner was toasted cheese with some weird cheese and homemade tomato soup from whole canned tomatoes. Tank said in his notes it was easy, once she found the blender. Time was flying and she didn't miss the television or radio, but did miss dessert.
When she set the fireplace for the night she was hesitant about going to bed. She wasn't sure she could take another journey with Grandpa Mazur, so she stayed in the living room, watching the flames.
"Curls, I have several final things to show you, her grandfather said as he sat beside her on the couch. After these I have to leave you. I've enjoyed our time together, you've become quite a lovely lady and I hope you will continue working on improving yourself and be great. You have the intelligence and drive but your mother never helped you develop confidence. Your handsome Latino man and his men believe in you. Your Berg friends, well, they don't support your dreams. Mary Lou wants you to be just like her, a Berg wife and mother which is not for you. Lula will never help you grow but keep pulling you down. Connie has no drive, she is content with her lonely life.
Only a tiny part of success is luck, the rest you make yourself through planning, action and taking advantage of situations that benefit you and avoiding those that don't. Strive to be the best, Curls, don't let others pull you down."
"Grandpa Mazur, you have taken me to difficult places, but I fear this last trip."
"This time we will look forward, you will decide which road to take," he said as he took her hand. "We don't need the robe tonight, sweetheart."
The scene was a forest track, narrow dirt road surrounded by tall densely growing trees. The steady beat of feet and labored breathing proceeded Stephanie Plum soaked in sweat jogging down the trail. She approached a wall and instead of stopping or going around, she leapt onto it, climbed over the top, down the other side and continued jogging. A log was lying over a small stream, without breaking stride she ran over the log without slipping off. She ran to a rope suspended from a high branch. Leaping onto the rope she climbed, slowly up and slide carefully back down before resuming her jog down the dirt path. A beam was suspended high above the ground; she climbed the ladder, quickly and confidently traversed the beam. As she neared the end with a rope hanging down for the descent, she quickened her last few steps, grabbed the rope and flew out away from the beam while also lowering herself, grateful for the gloves on her hand. "Good flight SuperWoman" came from an unseen male voice.
The scene changed to a gun range, she wasn't standing still, she was moving around with her rifle at her shoulder firing at targets and they appeared from various locations. Her body felt a zing. "Shit," she yelled. An unknown man peeked out, "You missed one and he just got you." She looked down at the yellow paint splattered on her vest.
The scene changed again, she was in hand to hand combat with a man at least 50 pounds heavier than she. She was in trouble, the man was about to put her into a painful hold, but she smiled knowing how to break and reverse the hold. With lightning speed she reversed the situation. "Good job, excellent reverse."
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Scene changed again, this time she is behind a desk, wearing a lovely suit. She looks professional and very nicely groomed. The office was spacious, numerous awards hung on the walls. Areminder tone on her computer chimed, "Gym time." Instead of dreading gym work, she jumped up and eagerly headed out the door. Once in her workout clothes the room fills with children. "Today we will work a bit more on personal self-defense," she says to the younger students. As the class ends a little boy runs up to her, "Mommy, look, Daddy came to watch." A shadowy figure, not definable, was at the door. She couldn't tell who it was. The scene changed.
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The sign on the building read City Morgue. The clerk is checking the name on the body page, "Stephanie Michelle Plum. Vagrant. Unmarried, never worked more than low paying jobs, no family, no friends. Ended up living in her broken down car and froze to death. Cremation. She'll be buried with other unclaimed at the end of the year. Meanwhile, put her in the freezer."
Stephanie pulled back sharply, "Grandpa Mazur why did you show this to me?"
"Your choice Curls, you determine where you will go. You have great potential, but need to throw off the yoke from your mother and the Berg. Your giant friend is the person to kick your ass into gear. If you side step his kick, you will procrastinate yourself into that abandoned car, ending up a mere shell of what you could have been. The next time I see you Curls I want to throw my arms around you and say, "Well done Wonder Woman, well done."
29th
Stephanie once asked Ranger why he got up at 4:30 a.m. "Basic training has stayed with me. We had 30 minutes to prepare for the day; shit, shower, shave, and shine. Calisthenics at 5, breakfast at 6."
She wanted to see if she could follow their schedule. She missed the early call out this morning, she has never been a morning person believing she need not get up before the sun. But she was trying to make a new Stephanie. Donning her still wet boots she walked down the road leading to the house. Since she was wearing Tank's hat and socks for gloves, the bathrobe and Tank's jacket she was grateful it was dark and isolated. Maybe a moose saw her, that's all.
Rushing back inside, she did not run for the shower but to the fireplace first setting the coffee maker to brew. She wanted PopTarts for breakfast but made do with toasted cheese sandwich. The coffee didn't warm her, she needed to change clothes; one demerit for breaking the routine. The library yielded another self-help book. Lunch was a salad and a handful of nuts. She chuckled as she ate the salad, "Ranger would have a chicken breast over the top of this." She froze again, was he really right now in that jungle? Was he even alive?
After lunch was domestic work, cleaning the bathroom, washing towels and sheets. While the dryer whirled she went into Tank's gym and lifted hand weights. Dinner time was nearing and she decided to tackle chicken breasts. How difficult could it be? Following Betty Crocker she cut the breast into thin strips and found frozen stir fry vegetables in the freezer. Rereading the instructions for everything several times she set forth. Only at the very end did she realize she missed the rice. Next time. The meal was OK, she wasn't starving.
This night there was no visit from Grandpa Mazur. She slept soundly.
December 31st.
Yesterday and today she woke up at 0430 and did stretches, rode the bicycle and lifted hand weights. Down on the mat she did her sit ups, 25 today, about 10 crunches but still no pushup. She needed more upper body strength. She'd wait for Tank before she started doing presses. She was now building a new body, mind and heart. Her libido was sneaking in but without a man around and no power shower head; she would have to push past the urges with exercise. If she worked herself to exhaustion, she wasn't horny. Given a choice she's prefer exhaustion with Ranger…..NO! She had to stop thinking about him. Men, that's why she was here, trying to find herself instead of relying on a man.
At her midafternoon break from studying, she returned to the ocean, mainly to run. It was cold and windy but her body was warm, craving more movement. The poor boots would not survive this activity much longer. She had taken to wearing socks only indoors trying to preserve her boots.
Tank came into the house. He didn't need to call for Stephanie to know she was still living there. The fireplace had flame, a book was open on the dining room table. He flipped to the title page and smiled, it was a self-help book. Notes were lying alongside. He would not read them, they were private.
Turning into the kitchen he opened the refrigerator and noted food not yet cooked. Taking out a cast iron casserole, he cut up the beef roast into smaller cubes, browned them and added vegetables and seasoning. All went into the oven.
Entering the utility room, a wind-burned and sweaty Stephanie began stripping off her clothes for a run to the shower when she smelled kitchen smells. She couldn't identify them but knew she wasn't responsible. Tank was back. She slipped her clothes back on and stepped into the kitchen.
Tank had finished putting away new groceries when Stephanie stepped in.
"Smells good in here."
He looked at her wind burned complexion, wild hair and sweat soaked clothes, "Go shower and change, we can talk later."
She didn't hesitate to leave. In her bedroom was bag after bag of clothing, shoes, and toiletries. She quickly totaled the purchases, she'd owe Tank big time.
When she returned, Tank noted she had lost weight and her complexion was ruddy from exposure to the cold.
"Thank you for shopping. I'll repay you when I get to the bank."
Dinner wouldn't be ready for a while; they had plenty of time to talk. He had two cups of herbal tea and motioned for the main room. She sipped her tea while he adjusted the fire. "Your absence is causing quite a stir," he said as he sat near the fireplace inviting her to be near as well.
She sat back on the couch and thought a minute, "I don't care. I have to take care of myself and quit worrying about others."
Internally he smiled, good answer. "You should let someone back there know you are OK."
"Who? The obvious first choices I'd rather not have anything to do with anymore."
"You still have friends," he said. He was thinking about Lula.
"Second tier gossipers? Who beyond several people at Rangeman can I call friends?"
She did have a point. "Maybe some neutral party who could quietly let the word out you are safe; Joe Juniak or maybe your cousin Eddie."
She thought for a bit, "Yeah, they might be good."
He reached into his tech pants pocket and pulled out a larger cellphone. "Satellite phone, it's slow with voice transfer, allow the other person to finish before speaking."
"Stephanie?" came Eddie's concerned voice. The sound of children in the background indicated he was home with the family.
"Yes, Eddie, it's me. I need to let someone know I'm OK. I'd rather not talk with my family. I'm no longer in Trenton or even New Jersey as I need time and space to think."
"Are you injured, are you safe?"
"I'm safe, warm, dry, healthily fed. A friend is putting me up while I plan what to do."
"Ranger?"
"No, I have no idea where he is and I'm not looking for him." Before he could ask about other Rangeman, she continued, "Eddie, I have several options I'm considering. I'd like to stay in law enforcement in some capacity. I'm considering applying to a police academy but I'd either need college courses or military training. I don't have enough money for returning to college so I'm looking into the military law enforcement."
Tank lifted an eye brow.
Eddie was silent for a while. "I'm surprised but the more I think about it, with the training you'll do well. I take it Joe isn't in the picture anymore."
"Not even a little bit and I can't talk to my family. In the meantime, if there's a missing person's investigation, please cancel it. I'm not missing; in fact I'm beginning to find myself."
"Yes, Steph, I believe you are. If there's anything I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."
"Thank you Eddie, you've been a good friend for years."
She might have been better off calling Joe Juniak, but she knew Eddie would gossip but he never did so in a way that was derisive to her, he often stuck up for her.
When she hung up Tank smiled, "Oh that's going to be interesting along Hamilton Ave. The military?"
"It may be my only salvation."
"You going to call Joe?"
Yep, he's next. Her call was answered by Officer Gaspick, "Joe Morelli's phone."
She wondered where Joe was, no she really didn't.
This is Stephanie Plum…I have two short messages for Joe, you can pass on the message.
"Ah, I don't know about this…." he said hesitantly.
"They are simple and don't involve profanity. First one is I've finally remembered what Cupcake originally meant. Got that?"
"Original meaning of cupcake….." He was taking notes. "OK and…"
"I'm sending my engagement ring to Terry Gilman."
"That's it? Nothing else?"
"Nope, that's it, thanks Officer Gaspick, I promised no profanity."
Tank shook his head, "Damn I wish I was in town right now."
"One more, then I'm done," she said with an evil grin.
"Connie."
"Stephanie where are you?"
"Far away."
"When are you coming back."
"I'm not. I left with the clothes on my back. I was going to hock my ring, but I found out its worthless. Joe's ring is nothing more than cubic zirconia on silver plate. I guess his new truck and replacing the dining room table with a pool table put him under financially."
"Pool table? You hate pool."
"He would never talk about setting a date and would get mad when I brought it up, even threatening me. He lied to his mother when he said two months. He also lied to my parents and half of Trenton. He didn't have a great ass, he was a great ass."
"Are you OK?"
"I really screwed up, Connie. I listened to my mother and got Dickie and Joe."
"What about Ranger?"
"He's gone forever; now I have nothing, literally. I have to start from scratch; this time without Helen's terrible expert guidance. I want to thank you for being my friend and getting me the job with Vinnie several years ago. Say good bye to Vinnie and Lula for me."
She did not know Tank had told Bobby about the ring, so between Bobby and Connie, the word about the valueless ring would speed like lightning through the Berg.
She put the phone down and Tank handed her a doughnut. "You earned it."
"No Tank, I don't need sugar anymore. I figured out why I was fixated on it."
He was waiting for an explanation.
"Another time. We need to discuss how you can help me prepare for the military."
Tank almost spit out his tea. "You really have been thinking about military?"
"You mentioned MPs."
"You're serious?"
"Tank, I want to stay in law enforcement or security. As I told Eddie, I don't qualify for police academy without college classes and I don't have the money for that. Private investigation is another thought but I'd want law enforcement behind it first. I'm late coming to the party. Military is the only other choice. But I need help to prepare. While you've been gone I've put myself on a disciplined program….to see if I can follow through. So far, I've almost hit the mark perfectly. I don't know how much time you can give me, but you said you could train me. What would that entail?"
"If you are thinking about the military, you need to be in shape physically and mentally. You need to know how to plan and carryout objectives. A big part for you will be discipline; you cannot whine your way out of doing your job."
"What about weapons?"
"I'd like to include weapons training, at least identification and care, but it's not as critical as getting you ready for the rigorous work, physical and mental."
"Would you do it all?"
I could but I have a company to run. I'd rather have help. If you successfully complete 8 weeks, 12 hours a day, you will be better able to decide if the military is for you." He wanted to offer her a job at Rangeman, but first she had to prove herself capable.
"Who would help?"
"Men I've helped train and now work with."
"Ah, not Rangeman I hope."
"They are the best."
"Would they come here? I'm concerned about being around the Berg."
"Understandable. We can do your training away from Trenton, but not here. This is my private retreat, only you have been here."
She thought a bit then said, "We'll begin at 04:30 tomorrow, but right now how long before dinner? It smells great."