Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Those are copyright of Janet Evanovich.
Chap. 6 Ranger
Hello! I'm sorry for the delay. I've been a little busy, but I'm still alive. Thank you for all those lovely reviews and comments. I love them and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. Thanks for ladyofkeegan for helping me and editing this for me, feel better Babe. I also wanted to share this link, this is what happens when I procrastinate. It reminds me of certain two characters we love. http:/ www .youtube. com / watch?v=8w6khbl-uXw
Steph's POV
Lester was leaning against the car, watching me closely. He was wearing all black, but not his usual RangeMan uniform. He had a dress shirt, nicely fitted cargo pants, a pair of sunglasses, and his hair was nicely cut. The whole imaged screamed 'look at me.'
"You're blocking the garage," I yelled helping Ricky out of the car.
"Good morning, beautiful," he greeted, and gave me a tight hug. "Mr. Plum gave me permission to park here. How's my nephew?"
"Ricky, say hello to your uncle."
"Hello, Uncle Lester," he replied obediently.
"Good morning little Ranger," Les chuckled ruffling Ricky's hair. My son combed his hair with his hand and curiously studied the man in front of him.
"Where's your friend?
I vacillated a little before responding. I don't know who I was trying to protect, Lester or Sofia. Lester's just too much of a ladies' man. He could very easily break her heart. However, the last time Sofia went on a date, the guy ended up on the ground crying for mercy, all because he leaned in to kiss her goodnight. Uhm, maybe Sofia and Lester could balance each other out.
"She's working," I replied.
"Ricky," my mother stood at the door, wearing an apron. My son instantly ran up to her. She squatted down to give him a kiss and a hug. "I want everyone to come eat, breakfast is ready."
"Thank you mom," I said gently, "but I ate breakfast already, so did Ricky."
She pursed her lips, "I have muffins and cookies."
I pretended to be considering it but my mom knew she won. Yes, she lured me in with pastries. My father was already sitting at the table. Grandma came into the room, wearing a purple warm up suit, fixing her hair with her hands. I saw her eyes lit up at the sight of Lester.
"Good morning," she sang giving me a hug.
"I had a late night last night," she said. "I went to Mr. Perkins viewing, and I swear, the whole Burg wants to know about you, and your new love.
"My what?"
"There was so much yammering," she continued ignoring my question. "They kept talking about how you 'ruined' Amy Morelli's shower."
"I didn't! It wasn't my fault! Why me?" I whined in frustration. My mother rolled her eyes, but I swear I saw a grin.
"Stephanie, dear," grandma said. "We have it all under control. We told them there's someone very important in your life, and that you have no interest in Officer Morelli."
"You what?"
"We didn't give them any names," Grandma said reassuringly. "I just told them he's someone important in your life, very special.
"Who?"
"Ricky, who else?" she gave Ricky a kiss and sat on the chair next to Lester. I slumped on a chair next to my dad, and took a muffin from his plate, gaining a stare of disapproval.
"Good morning, daddy."
"Pumpkin"
This is the advantage and disadvantage of living in the Burg. I have taken advantage of the grapevine in various times, well all the time. This is why I was asked to do this job, I know the Burg. Then, why am I so surprised? My mother still worries about the gossip. Grandma should have told them to mind their own business.
"Stephanie!" my mom gasped. I guessed I said that at loud. "It's really not that bad. Mom and I decided it was the best thing to tell everyone. It's very close to the truth, and it's not hurting anyone."
Lester snorted, making us all turn to him.
"What is it Les?" I asked impatiently.
"News travel fast," he said continuing with his food. "I don't think Ranger is going to like it."
"Ricky, drink all your milk," mom said gently. "You're very skinny, and you need healthy bones. It'll make you strong."
"Strong like Superman?" my son asked. "Superman can fly."
"No, not Superman," my mother gasped dropping her utensils on her plate. "There's no flying, and there's no jumping off from garage roofs in this house."
"You could be Batman," grandma quickly offered grinning. "He's very handsome, like you! And, he has cool cars."
Ricky seemed to think about this for a minute. "How many cars?"
Grandma opened her arms wide, "this many."
"Wow, I like Batman," he squealed. "Grandma, can I be strong like Batman?"
"Can he fly?"my mom asked.
"No," Grandma said.
"Then yes, you can be like Batman."
Lester sniggered. I almost wished he would choke, but then I would feel guilty. I actually really like Lester and it would be a shame not to have him around.
"What are you doing today?" Grandma asked me. "I put this suit on so I could go catch some criminals with you, like old times."
"Sorry, Grandma," I said. "I'm just doing surveillance today, no skips."
"Never mind then," and with that grandma gave up on the idea.
"Actually, grandma, you might be able to help," I told her. "Do you know the Kennels?"
"Wait, Stephanie, Leticia Movio?" Lester asked and I nodded.
"RangeMan is working on her case," he said. "Stephanie, be careful."
"I know the Kennels," grandma nodded, perking up. "Margaret gets her hair done at the Cut N' Curl. I heard her son Louis came back to town."
"I'm looking for him," I said, "He might know Leticia's whereabouts."
"Look at that, I need to get my hair done," she said, her eyes sparking. "I guess I could ask a few questions."
-rs-
"Lester, could I talk to you?" I signaled him to go outside. He immediately stood up, glad to walk away from Grandma's mischievous smile.
"What do you know about Leticia, Lester?" I asked him. "She's the daughter of a friend of mine who was recently killed. He was a good person and I want to find her for his family."
"Well, Ranger was very interested in this particular case," Lester replied thoughtfully, he had a small smile. "He never says no to cases of missing children but I just know the basics."
Ranger had experienced firsthand what it feels to have a child kidnapped. I grimaced at the thought. Ranger suffered through those weeks. He worried silently, trying to keep his feelings quiet, but he couldn't hide them from me.
"The police in New York questioned some of Leticia's friends," Lester continued, "One of the girls said that Leticia was planning to leave all along. Leticia's boyfriend was changed on the suspects list as kidnapper to accomplice. They think he helped her runaway."
"What does Ranger think?"
"He's not telling," Lester sighed. "What do you know about The Link, Steph?"
"Marcus, Leticia's dad, explained this to me," I started, trying to recall. "The Link is the person that recruits the girls for the sex slavery holders. He gets money for every girl he brings. He's the one that brings them together, isn't he?"
"Yes," Lester nodded. "Louis is just seventeen. It's very unlikely that he could be The Link. If anything, he could be trying to protect her from somebody. Maybe someone who's not even The Link, but it's too early to tell."
"Marcus thought he was, Sofia is back in New York trying to put together some information," I told him. "I wanted to visit the Kennel's house today. Would that be possible?"
Lester smiled knowingly. If RangeMan was involved, the Kennels' house could be under surveillance.
"I could make a few calls," he said grinning, "If I could get a little help in return."
"What kind of help?"
"Is Sofia single?" he inquired getting serious. Lester's impossible, he just met her!
"When you're crying on the ground," I responded, "don't say I didn't warn you."
-rs-
Grandma told me Margaret Kennel is in her fifties. She divorced her husband a few years earlier and moved back to her childhood home.
The Kennels' house was a duplex similar to my parents'. The colors of the house reminded me of cake frosting. I scanned the area for safety. I parked near the house and made my way to the front door. I had two hours to investigate, so I had to make the most out of my time.
I knocked a few times but no one answered. The window shades were pulled down, I couldn't see anything. I walked around the house suspiciously before knocking on the neighbors' door.
I got very little information from the first two. They have not seen her.
"It's too hot to even spy on the neighbors," I told myself aloud. My white shirt was starting to stick to my skin, and I wished I wore something lighter than jeans. There is nothing like high humility to get you and your hair frustrated.
"How may I help you?" a petite young woman answered the last door. She looked she's in her late teens.
"I'm sorry to bother you," I started, "but I'm looking for your neighbor, Mrs. Kennel. She's not answering the door. Have you seen her?"
"Well, she's always going out," the girl said thoughtfully. "I'll ask my mom."
She closed the door, but she was quickly replaced by a much older version of herself.
"Hello," I started but she cut me off.
"Lucy said you're looking for Margaret?" the woman asked.
"Yes, have you seen her?"
"I haven't seen her in a week," she told me. "I'm starting to get worried. It's not like her to disappear. The last time I saw Margaret, she said her son came to visit. I thought maybe she went to New York for a few days, to visit family, but I'm not stupid. You're not the only one to come asking."
"Thank you," I said giving her my card, and my real name. She looked at me with confusion. "This is a very important matter; please call me if remember anything or something comes up."
I gave her a little finger wave and waited until she was out of sight before I strode back to Mrs. Kennel's house. I quickly attempted to pick the lock. My spidey senses were telling me something was off so I stopped to survey the area, scanning every detail. I didn't see anything but I ran to my car and collected the emergency gun hiding under the driver's chair. I tucked the gun in the waistline of my jeans, right on the small of my back, and I made it back to the house. I should have no reason to feel nervous. What was so different this time?
The house was quiet. I closed the door behind me and proceeded to examine the room. The living room was a disaster, magazines and broken objects scattered on the floor. I took a deep breath for courage. There was some food in the fridge, and a few dirty dishes on the table. I slowly walked up the stairs and visited every room. There is not doubt that something did happen in this house but whoever did it had moved somewhere else.
I was walking down the stairs when I saw a light flicker on the landing. I slowly made my way down, listening closely. I heard footsteps followed by the sound of something hitting the floor.
"Man, I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have what you want. I just want my girlfriend back, don't do anything to her."
"That's it kid, you lost your chance," another voice replied, it was another male voice.
"No! Please, don't kill me," the 'kid' was crying now, it was evident in his voice.
I had two options, I could sit here and wait for this man to kill the guy he called 'kid' or try to save him. Think, Stephanie, think. What would Sofia do? She would go challenge the killer to a fight, paralyze him by blocking the air to his lungs with two fingers, Sofia's style. Except, there was only one problem. I do not know how to do those fancy tricks. What would Ranger do? Ranger would get me out of this place. He would protect me, and he would probably kill this man.
"Please, please don't kill me."
"What did you do with the merchandise?"
"I don't know what you are talking about."
I channeled my inner Wonder Woman. After all, I have done this before. I swung around the wall separating the kitchen to the stairs, James Bond style, ready to shoot.
"Put down your gun!"
"Who the fuck are you?" the killer asked. There was a slight sense of humor in his deep and angry voice. He raised his gun at me this time. I glanced down to see a handsome teenage boy lying on floor, Louis Kennel.
"Put the gun down," I ordered managing to keep my voice even but my head was in another world.
Louis started crawling away from the danger, the tips of his shoes screeching on the tiles.
"Don't go anywhere," I yelled. The man in front of me aimed his gun back at Louis. An idea came to my head. I fired, shutting the gun out of his hand, making him scream in anguish.
"Bitch!" he launched towards me in anger. Whoops that was not part of the plan. It didn't matter that I had a gun in my hand, he was going after me. Now what? I didn't want to fire again. It has been a long time since I killed someone. I started backing away into the living room. I feared for my life for a few seconds. This man is almost Tank's size, definitely not a wimpy man.
My son! I knew my parents would take good care him, I thought morbidly. Ranger would take care of him, maybe.
I tripped and fell on my butt. I jerked away in pain as my hands had cushioned the fall by landing on broken glass. The next thing I knew, I was leaning against the sofa. The man was on the floor. Mrs. Kennel was standing in front of me with a baseball bat.
"Louis, pack your clothes," she yelled at her son. He immediately ran up the stairs. I tried to stand up, picking up my gun with my bloody hand. Shit, I was in pain, but I was glad it was just my hand. Mrs. Kennel backed away from me.
"It's okay," I said, "I don't hurt you."
"Stephanie Plum?" she asked in disbelief. I'm just so lucky. "You're Edna's granddaughter, the bounty hunter."
"It wasn't my fault," I said.
"You're Joseph Morelli's runaway wife," she stated amazingly, lowering her bat.
"Wait, what?"
"I hear you're married now."
I stared blankly at her direction. I had no clue what she was talking about but she came forward and gave me a hug.
"How's your mother? She's probably happy to have you back."
"She's doing great," I said, glad she changed the subject. "She's finishing nursing school this year."
"Oh dear," she said noticing my bleeding hands. "I'm sorry about your hands. Those used to be my refined wine glasses."
"I'm ready," Louis ran down the stairs two at the time carrying a travel bag.
"I'm sorry, but we have to go," she said. "We can't stay here for too long. The house has been watched for weeks, until now. I sent Louis to get some of his clothes and then this man appeared. He must have been watching the house too. Lorry from next door lent me this bat."
"Wait! I need to talk to your son," I declared. "Where's Leticia?"
"We don't know," Louis answered guiltily. "She was trying to run away from someone."
"Do you know this man?" I asked pointing at the body on the floor.
"Never seen him," he said.
"Do you know who The Link is?" I asked. "Can you identify him?"
"Lady, I don't know," he responded quickly, pointing at the man on the floor. "He asked me the same questions."
"Somebody is trying to kill us," his mother explained. "Last week, we came home and found the house destroyed. They came back, asking about some kind of merchandise. I don't know what they're talking about."
The man on the floor started stirring now.
"I'm sorry but we have to go," Mrs. Kennel explained desperately.
"What about him?"
"Just leave him there," she snapped and she was the door.
I hurried out of the house after her, avoiding the man on the floor. She drove away in a gray Ford. I tossed my gun on the seat next to me and examined my hands. They were bleeding a lot; the glass had cut through my gloves and into my skin. I carefully removed my gloves and grabbed my emergency kit. The cleansing towel stung my hands as I pressed them against my cuts. I tried to remove a few pieces of the glass that had embedded in my palm. My hands needed to be cleaned and treated. I gingerly tried to collect my cell phone from jean pocket, smearing blood on my sweaty white shirt.
"Beautiful, are you okay?" Lester answered. "I was about to call, your time is up."
"Lester, there's someone at the Kennels house," I said. "I think he's dangerous, someone should come take a look."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, just little shaken," I confessed using my less damaged hand to scratch the tingling sensation on the back of my neck. "I think I'm having an adrenaline rush. How's Ricky?"
"We're teaching him to play catch," he answered, "your mother and grandma are at the beauty salon."
I had to use my less damaged hand to start the car. I still had glass embedded deep in my hand and the stinging sensation increased. My parents' house wasn't too far away. I could go there, clean my hands and spend sometime with my father.
The pain in my hands made me suck in some air. I tried to focus on that goal. You're almost there, I told myself.
I was just getting out of my car when the tingle on the back of my neck stopped me. This wasn't an adrenaline rush. I felt my body react immediately to the thoughts in my head. There's only one person who can make me feel this way.
"Please, tell me this isn't happening," I said at aloud, keeping my eye on the door. I slowly turned around, my heart beating fast its cage. The tickle on the back of my neck traveled down my spine. I gulped, forgetting the pain in my hands. Ranger was wearing his usually combination of black, his hair medium length, and he didn't look a day older. He was perfect.
After all the begging, I have done, after covering my tracks and trying to keep my distance. He most had followed me here from Margaret's house, just that simple. I shouldn't have gone there in the first place. Was I ready to face him? I guess it didn't matter now.
Ranger stood a distance away from me, and for the first time since I've known him, I saw his feelings plainly on his face. I was looking at my son's father. I realized I wasn't breathing properly. A part of me wanted to reach out to touch him, kiss him, and beg him to forgive me. The other part wanted to run away from him, fearing he would hate me for the rest of my life.
I've been a coward for too long.
Ranger's blank face came into place, and he stood there studying me. I walked drunkenly towards him, closing the space between us. Suddenly, I felt the urge to cry. This is not the way I wanted him to see me. I was covered in blood!
I looked into Ranger's eyes and found them staring at me. I couldn't read any of the emotions now swimming in those eyes.
I used my best hand to slightly fix my hair, brushing it back in what I hoped was a casual and normal gesture. Ranger moved fast and reached for my hands. He studied them in his and I saw the disapproval in his eyes.
"Babe," he said leaning down. My heart fluttered when his lips brushed against my forehead. They lingered there for a few seconds but it was too short. He carefully examined the condition of my hands and lightly removed the almost transparent piece of glass that was causing so much pain, apart from my guilt.
"I'm sorry," I rasped in what could have been a whisper. He kept examining my palm, his lips set on a thin line.
"What happened?" he asked me. A million ways to answer him ran through my mind. He lifted my hand to indicate that he was talking about the glass.
"Stephanie," he said firmly, tightening his grip on my wrist. I realized I was fidgeting, and he couldn't remove any more glass.
God, I love this man. I knew it, otherwise why was my heart running a marathon. I couldn't keep my eyes off him. How could I stay away from him for so long? I guess I was content to know he was still alive and well. I kept telling myself that he didn't love me like I do, and that he didn't want a family. He wouldn't want Ricky and me in his life.
"Stephanie," I heard Lester's voice coming from door.
Ranger gently removed the glass, more blood oozing in the process. I flinched in pain.
"It hurts," I breathed through my teeth. I was about to say something else when I saw what looked like a baseball hit Ranger right on his temple. He didn't even move, but our eyes filled with confusion. We both turned ours heads.
"Do something!" Ricky ordered a paralyzed Lester, pulling the material of his pants. "Grandpa, he's hurting mommy."
My father's incredulous eyes traveled from my son to me. He took in my condition, and glared at Ranger questionably. I was speechless. This was the second time my son tried to protect me, and this time it had to be from Ranger.
I felt his small arms wrap around my leg.
"Don't hurt my mommy," he cried against my jeans. "She's my only mommy."
I think my heart shattered into pieces when I heard him. I was too stunned to speak, to say anything at all. I just stared at Ranger, hoping that in a miracle he would figure that Ricky was his son. I couldn't find the strength to explain.
Carlos Manoso stared at me with glistening eyes, something I never seem before. He was Batman. I was mesmerized with his distress and the fast pace of the rising of his chest.
"Ranger, I'm sorry," I said hoarsely. I didn't know how to start.
"Shit," he spat, "Stephanie, you lied to me." And with that, he turned, walked to his car. Then with the Cayenne's tires' burning on the pavement, Ranger was gone.
What the frak just happened?
-rs-
Stephanie: Ranger...
Mr. Plum: tear* My grandson is a baseball player.
Ricky: I can help mommy, right? I'm batman.
Ranger: Babes, I'll be happy to get more of your lovely comments and reviews. Just click on the link...please?