Chapter 15

I'm late with the new chapter, I know. The shutdown last week threw me off. We last saw Ranger and Step...err, Michelle at the beach for Christmas.

Ranger sat in his motel room after leaving the Plum household. Did his decision really come down to Julie or Michelle; Miami or Trenton? Julie had been a major part of his life for the last eleven months. Rachael, his ex-wife instinctively knew Julie needed to heal him and he needed her. Julie was an adolescent with a step-father and step siblings, she was feeling misplaced. Working with her biological father had given her a stronger sense of who she was and why she felt and acted the way she did. Julie was entering the dangerous years, adolescence, where she could get seriously off course; he should be around more to guide her. He had fallen badly during these years, would she?

Yet he wanted a personal life with Michelle. Stephanie had become Michelle a strong, confident, skilled woman, but still amazingly intelligent and glowing with love from within, the carryover from Stephanie. What he most feared when he first met Mitch the Bitch in Atlanta was Stephanie was lost, the glow, the love, the innocence forgotten.

Mitch was a force. In many ways right she was now the superhero, or superheroine while he had become Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne/ Steve Rogers (a.k.a. Captain America.) He knew he'd reclaim Ranger, he had known since he stood up and walked for the first time in the Rehab Center, but it was a work in progress. Maybe not Ranger the mercenary, but Ranger the man was growing inside of him again. Michelle/Mitch would be a perfect companion for the reemerging Ranger.

His father had helped clear the clouds in his mind, but he needed his mentor's sage advice. Abuela Rosa; though over ninety years old, her mind was sharp though her body was getting old. He decided to take Julie along.

"Bisabuela," Julie gushed. "Merry Christmas, ¡Feliz Navidad!"

When Carlos was able to leave the rehab center, he began taking Julie to visit her Bisabuela Rosa. The two had gotten to know one another though Julie's Spanish wasn't much past Spanish Level II in school. Rosa beamed at the young adolescent, "Ella se parece a ti," the old lady whispered.

Julie texted parecer. Now she understood, her bisabulea thought she resembled her father. Well duh!

Si, Carlos answered. Julie did look like him.

"Carlos, "Estás preocupado."

Abuela, Julie se está convirtiendo en una mujer."

Julie understood her name, mujer as woman, and guessed convirtiendo meant something about conversion. She was grateful her bisabulea didn't speak rapidly, giving her time to mentally translate. Maybe bisabuela she was doing it on purpose.

"Pero tu corazón lleva más problemas."

Mi corazón se debate entre dos mujeres. (My heart is torn between two women.)

Julie cut in, "Dad I know what you are saying, my Spanish is better. You are talking about me and Michelle. Papá, ella es tu corazón."

"Tu tambien," Ranger answered and proud Julie was picking up Spanish.

"I know Dad," Julie slipped back into English, "But you can visit, I can visit you wherever you are, we can text, Skype, Instragram and so on."

"Jewels it isn't the same as actually seeing, talking, and touching you. You are at the age where things happy quickly and I'd like to be there to help if you need," Ranger tried to explain.

Abuela Rosa looked at her grandson, "Carlos ella siempre estará en tu corazón, pero ahora necesitas a la otra mujer para completar tu curación" (Carlos she'll always be in your heart, but right now you need the other woman to complete your healing.)

Julie smiled, "Sí, ella completa tu corazón. Ella es tu vida."

Rosa smiled, "Tu hija es sabia más allá de sus años." (Your daughter is wise beyond her years.)

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"How was Florida?" Tank asked.

"Seventy two, sunny and the beach was perfect," she said looking out the window at the horizontal snow.

"Family?"

"Oh Tank, you wouldn't recognize Daddy, he's lost 30 pounds and has been working out. He's trim and shaves his head like you," she laughed.

Tank gave her the eye.

"And Grandma Mazur! She changed her hair to something modern, not a 60's perm do. Wow! She's so happy down there. Daddy thinks she's a hoot, now. I thought he hid from her, I think he was hiding from his wife."

"And your nieces?"

"Happy, completely happy. Mary Alice is no longer a horse. She doesn't have to pretend to be something else to be happy, she is happy. The most surprising is both have formed an attachment to Ranger."

Tank didn't need to say anything, his granite face betrayed much now that Michelle could read the cracks.

"He and Daddy visit frequently. I think Daddy is helping Ranger with PTSD or maybe vice versa. They are close. And the girls fawn and crawl all over Ranger as if he was their father."

"I take you talked more."

"He knows I don't want to leave Rangeman Trenton."

Tank motioned for her to sit. He settled himself into his office chair and sat back. "Ranger never expected to live beyond 30, tops 35. He knew he his time would come, a stray bullet, explosion, something. He set Rangeman up to run without him. You threw a big curve in his plans."

"I understand that now, but isn't there a place for him?"

"He's the CEO of Rangeman, but can you see him reading reports all day?"

She smiled, "No."

"He's a man of action. I don't know what he can do physically now. He's uncertain too."

"Could he start a new Rangeman?"

"What has made Rangeman successful is each office's core team served together. We know how each other thinks, reacts. Who would he select for his core team? Plus where would Rangeman go next?"

"Newark?"

"Big investment, that's a densely populated area. Look how we've had to realign for our expansion here. Newark office would be four times larger than here."

"Philadephia?"

"Possible. We'd have to be careful about not getting clients east of the Delaware as there are limited bridges; our response time would be compromised. That's why we haven't move across already. Other expansion possibilities include Richmond, Raleigh/Durham and Columbia, South Carolina. Another possibility is San Antonio. You have Air Force and Army there for recruits. The San Antonio/Austin area is exploding."

"So Rangeman could expand, but not with Ranger heading up a new office."

"I'm not sure."

"He said he might be able to work training new teams at Benning."

"I doubt that."

"Couldn't he train new teams for Rangeman expansion?"

"And who would help him?"

She just smiled.

Tank nodded. "My thoughts too, but first we have to help him think this up on his own. First step, get his head out of his rear end."

"I'm tugging gently. He needs to believe he came up with these ideas himself."

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Joe Morelli paced around his living room, "I don't know what I'm going to do now, I really fucked up."

Terry Gilman sat on the couch examining the various stains wondering if a new couch is in order. "You've been fucked up ever since you got together with Plum when you were an FTA."

"She did help me clear my name. I thought maybe she'd be a good, normal wife; someone quiet to come home to."

Terry laughed, "You were aiming too low Joe. Do you really want a dull life with a wife who cleans all day does her bed duty once a night? Anyway, she doesn't have a domestic bone in her body unlike her sister. She'll be as big as Gina Trepenza when she hits 40, after all that pizza and doughnuts and so would your children. You want more Mooch Morellis?"

"I hear, she's changed."

"From what I saw in February, she has a dyke haircut and probably is playing on the other team now. You escaped by the skin of your teeth, Joe. She would have made you miserable."

"At least Manoso is gone. I heard he bought it in some South American raid; probably working for some drug king."

Terry looked at him like he was El Estúpido Culo, "Joe he wasn't working for a drug king, he was working for the government trying to take out a tyrant. About 8 years ago when he was doing Special Ops for the Army, he crossed paths with a gun and drug runner. The US operation failed and the guy swore vengeance on all who participated. Manoso went down to end it once and for all."

"And got killed in the process. Good riddance."

"My uncle respected him."

Joe reframed from saying anything negative about Don Vito Grizzoli. "All I've ever wanted to be was a cop and now that's gone. I don't know what to do."

"You can work for me, for my family."

"Yeah right."

"We have legitimate businesses in need of smart people to run them."

"What type of businesses?"

"Bar….."

"I can't be around liquor either as a customer or a bartender; also nothing concerning drugs."

"How about construction? You've been remodeling this house, you know your way around a 2x6. We need inspectors to make certain the municipal inspectors are pleased with our work.

"A building inspector? I'm a cop, not an engineer."

"You facilitate the inspection. Each building has multiple inspections, contractors can't take time off to baby sit the inspectors, that's your job."

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Joe quickly learned his job was to protect other mob businesses supplying equipment to home builders. Plumbing equipment came from a mob business, electrical, wood, sheet rock. This costs the builders a bit more but they could pass it on in the sales price. In addition, the builders were expected to pay off certain inspectors. Rookie inspectors didn't know "the ways" and needed Morelli's intimidation as education. Of course Joe took a bit of each bribe for his facilitator services. Within a few weeks Joe was earning in two weeks what he earned in two months as a cop.

With his pockets well lined, he found Terry was more willing to allow him into her bed on a regular basis. We wasn't slowing being pulled into the mob, he was being sucked (no pun intended.) While he was enjoying his new found fame, he learned Terry was as possessive of him as he had been with Stephanie. She was trying to train him for better jobs, working him into the family even though the vestige of a cop inside of him was reluctant. The internal conflict was making him moody which enhanced his ability to do his job. To calm his nerves, he started drinking again.

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It was St. Patrick's Day. With no Irish background Michelle was surprised to find green tinted carnations on her desk when she came back from her morning appointments. Calling down to the lobby, "Carmichael, did you send these lovely flowers to me?"

"No Ma'am, the florist delivered them. Did you see the card?"

She smiled as she read the card, "May the luck of the Irish allow me to take you to dinner tonight, Love you Babe, Carlos."

Immediately she sent a return message, "Must be Cuban luck, I'm available. Love you back. Michelle."

The return text was more like Ranger, "19:00."

Spring was trying to break out in Mercer County. Trees were blossoming but the cold kept sneaking in ruining the seasonal transition. Michelle had mostly work clothes; pants and blouses; suits with a few dresses. She had not done distractions since coming back to Rangeman. The sexiest thing she could muster was a simple black sheath that showed her ripped shoulders and arms and the draped front emphasized her neck. It wasn't quite warm enough for the changing weather. The shoes were not 4 inch spikes but more conservative, 3 inches at most. Her jewelry collection was simple; one pearl necklace and earrings. Total. She chuckled, "A simple black dress and pearls. Nothing original here."

The knock on the door came exactly at 7 pm. Ranger had not lost his punctuality. She welcomed him in with a kiss on the cheek, "Welcome to Rangeman North." Stepping back she showed him her accommodations; modern if not Spartan. She had a studio unit, no separate bedroom. The couch became a platform bed. A small kitchenette occupied a portion of one wall. "At least the bathroom isn't a hideous brown and yellow," she tried to joke. "This is the smallest unit here since I also have a studio at Haywood. They serve my purposes."

"Babe this is actually comfortable and a lot more secure."

She smiled, "Hasn't had a firebomb thrown through the window yet." She picked up her long jacket and handed it to him to help her. "I'm starving, let's not be late."

Ranger hesitated, "Isn't this the time for the beast to roar?" referring to her stomach.

"That was caused by excess sugar in my gut and trapped air. Not something I like to admit. Since I changed my diet, the beast only quietly grumbles."

The drive was short to The Yardley Inn. As they entered the restaurant the hostess welcomed them. "Manoso," Ranger said simply.

After checking their coats, Ranger placed his hand on Michelle's back and guided her to their table at the back of the room, against the wall. There were here to eat, not to be seen.

"I've never eaten here, have you?" Michelle asked.

"No this is new to me too."

"Carlos, I eat simply now, so whatever you are having is fine with me."

His eyebrows arched a bit.

"After a physical Bobby and I had a long conversation about cholesterol, blood glucose, preservatives and maintaining muscle mass. Once I got off the sugar roller coaster I found I think more clearly, my emotions are better controlled and…the beast doesn't roar."

"No more Tasty Kakes?"

"Have you read the ingredients? I won't eat what I don't understand and I don't have a PhD in chemistry."

He smiled, "Will a Spring salad and grilled salmon suit my lady?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Oysters to start?"

"Ah, no, no seduction food plus I'm not keen on raw mollusks."

Dessert?

No.

Wine?

One glass only.

He stared and tipped his head, this was a different woman. Slowly a smile began, "Hello Michelle, you look lovely tonight."

"Carlos, thank you for inviting me."

As they ate their meal, the talked finding their new way together. Ranger put out his hand, "I've missed taking you to dinner, Babe."

She responded by placing her hand in his, "You were probably disappointed I didn't put on my usual sound show. I'm trying to learn self-control, no moaning at the table and no uttering my private thoughts out loud."

"Your eyes showed you were enjoying the meal and as for the utterings, it was often the only way any of us knew what you were thinking. You were too, restrained."

She laughed softly, "Restrained? Hardly. Anyway, who is calling the kettle black? You and your team show nothing."

"Babe."

"A proper Burg lady does not let her emotions or thought show. So sayeth Burg mothers."

"You would have never been a Step-Burg wife." he asked with a small smile.

"If I had, I'd be drowning in alcohol or drugs by now." There was no use bringing up her mother and sister, which was a dead issue.

She paused for a bit, "I hate for this to end Carlos, but I do have an early morning tomorrow."

He hesitated and before he could ask she said, "No, Carlos, it is too soon."

As they stood from the table, Carlos put his hand at the small of her back and kissed her short hair. "I enjoyed our dinner together. You are truly a lovely, competent woman Babe. I am so proud of you."

Most diners ignored their passage, but three stared; Terri Gilman, her uncle Don Guido Grazolli, and Joe Morelli.

"Isn't that Carlos Manoso?" Terry whispered.

Don Vito shook his head, "Rumors of his death are wrong."

"What the hell is he doing here? He doesn't run Rangeman anymore," Joe steamed.

Don Vito and Terry looked at each other amazed Joe didn't recognize Stephanie, but then he had consumed several drinks. Both had seen the short haired, ripped Stephanie about a year before. "He has family in Newark, maybe someone lives down here."

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Carlos walked Michelle to her apartment door. He was being a gentleman, respecting what she had said earlier. "Good night Babe, thank you for joining me for dinner." They kissed a very tender kiss, growing more passionate kiss.

As they parted she touched the side of his face, "I hope we can do it again soon."

"Bet on it, Babe."

She shut the door and leaned on it with a big smile on her face. "We might make it this time."

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Rangeman North was not a seven story building. The first floor was offices, second command, third housing. The gym was on the second floor.

"Hey Mitch," Mike uttered. Like Tank the large black man was short on words.

"Good date?"

"You spoke four words before 08:00? That's a new record," she kidded as she stretched her muscles before getting on the treadmill for a quick 5 mile run. She moved to the weights and worked on her shoulders. Mike spotted her. "Mike, it was dinner only. Carlos Manoso and I have a past. We are seeing if there is something that can be salvaged."

After showering and dressing for the day she was going through her reports when her phone rang, "Michelle, this is Al Moore. I've got a problem."

"Good morning Mr. Moore. Is the problem with our system or our services?"

No, no, I've got a problem with an inspector. When he saw Rangeman security in the Lakehurst house he went ballistic calling it subpar and ordered I put in a different system."

"What else?" Michelle asked squeezing the bridge of her nose. This wasn't the first call she had this week with this issue.

Al Moore chuckled, "How did you know there was more? He disallowed the placement of all fire and carbon monoxide monitors saying they needed to be reset elsewhere."

Michelle's turn to speak, "Let me finish, he also said the state license was improper and you'd have to file a state permit in addition to a county permit. But he could waive the state permit for a fee."

"You have heard it before, but you forgot we need to use Global Security equipment, rip out all Rangeman."

"That's a new wrinkle. Did you get this person's name?"

"No. He was very good at deferring giving his name."

"Mr. Moore I will handle this. Let me ask you one other thing, did this gentlemen insist you use other building materials?"

"He's aggressively suggesting in the Oak Lane home we need to be using different sheetrock. The stuff he's pushing is higher price and lower quality. Michelle, I'm not the only contractor having trouble."

"Who else?"

"Larry Morris and it sounds like the same man."

"I'd like to talk to Larry."

"I'll send you his number."

Michelle sighed, sounds like the mob has a new inspector who is overly aggressive. Picking up her phone, "Tank, I need to have a meeting with you and Hector, today."

Tank and Hector were waiting for her as she entered Tank's office.

"Coffee?"

She shook her head no. "Hector, take a deep breath, we've got a problem." She went on to tell them what was happening.

Hector was immediately typing on his laptop when he heard Global Securities. "Un momento, I need to use the big guns," his pet name for the computer with the "deep throat" search engines. After some creative swearing in Spanish he came back, "Global was founded about a month ago. Many corporate layers but comes to Grizzolis.

"Don Guido is getting into security systems?" Tank was surprised.

"He has interest in building materials; Global Securities may be Terri Gilman."

Michelle shook her head, "It just gets better."

"Yeah, it does," Tank said. "Our systems are malfunctioning up there. Hector when to look, someone is tampering with our equipment."

"Nice way to show the contractor Rangeman's unreliability. Hector do you know anyone at ADT and Guardian and other security companies?"

"Si."

"Ask if they know anything about Global Security. I suspect they'll rant about an overly aggressive inspector and maybe have a name."