Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: Thanks so much for the awesome reviews! Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!


My eyes cracked open in the dim light from the street lamp outside my window. The pale purple walls and the glowy stars on the ceiling told me that I was in my childhood bedroom. The clock on my bedside table told me that it was shortly after three in the morning. The thudding of my heart told me that something was very wrong. I closed my eyes and listened hard, trying to be like Ranger, trying to be aware of my surroundings. Everything sounded normal; Grandma snoring down the hall, the grunt from my father as he rolled over in his sleep, the steady drip, drip, drip from the leaky faucet in the bathroom. I sat up and scanned the room; dirty clothes on the floor, duffle bag on the chair in the corner, old school pictures on the shelf above the bed. My eyes tracked to the nightstand and a scream froze in my throat.

There on my night table, sitting next to a half-empty glass of water, was a foot. A pig foot to be exact. I stared at it in horror for a full minute, making sure that I wasn't going to scream or puke or any of those wimpy, girly things. I took a deep breath and stared at it some more. Creepy, stalker, pig guy had been in my room. While I was asleep. Because that sure as hell hadn't been there earlier.

My head had stopped spinning by now so I peered more closely at the foot. There was a scrap of paper next to it. I reached over, careful not to touch the piggy foot, and took the paper. I held my breath while I unfolded it. Then let it out in a rush as I read the note.

This little piggy went to the hotel.

This little piggy stayed home.

This little piggy ate meatloaf.

This little piggy had none.

This little piggy cried help, help, help,

But nobody came.

It doesn't rhyme, I thought, then chastised myself. That was hardly the issue. Wait a minute, 'nobody came'? Was he implying that…

I flew out of bed and down the hall to my parents' room. I cracked the door open and peered in. Everything looked okay. Then my dad rolled over and mom swatted his hand away. I closed my eyes in relief. I moved quietly down the hall to grandma's room and opened the door. It wasn't really necessary since I could hear her snores from down the hall. Still… Grandma was there, arms straight at her sides, mouth wide open, issuing the roaring rumble which was probably shaking the window panes. I closed Grandma's door and tiptoed down the stairs. I did a quick sweep, thinking that I probably should have grabbed Grandma's gun first, but the place was empty. The guy had come and gone. I sunk down onto the couch and took a few deep breaths.

Okay, I could wake up my parents and call the police, but then what would the neighbors think? I almost giggled to myself at that thought. I forced myself to sober. No, that wasn't the real problem. The real problem was that I didn't want to get my parents involved in this. I wanted this part of my life as far away from them as possible.

So, option two. I could call Joe. That really led back to option one, because technically Joe was the police. He'd have to treat this as a crime scene and that would get my parents involved. Exactly what I didn't want.

Option three, I could call Ranger. This seemed the best of my options, but not ideal. Ranger would keep this quiet, he would get the information to the right people, he would keep me safe. But my parents would still be involved.

I sighed and got up from the couch. I made a stop in the kitchen and headed back upstairs. I stopped just inside the doorway to my bedroom and took a deep breath. You can do this, Stephanie. Wonder Woman, remember?

I walked over to the nightstand and before I could think about it, reached down and picked up the pig foot using an inside out Ziploc bag. I flipped the bag right-side out so that the foot was inside and zipped the thing shut. I let out the breath I'd been holding.

The note was easier. It was just paper, nothing icky or dead about it. I picked it up and slipped it into another baggie. I emptied my purse into my duffle bag and put the foot and the note in my empty purse. Damn, I thought, that had been one of my favorite purses. No way was I using it again after this.

I packed up the rest of my things and set them by the door. Then, I headed back downstairs and sat on the couch. Great, I'd stay awake the rest of the night, and then first thing in the morning I'd go back to my apartment and call Joe or Ranger. I'd tell the cops I'd found this stuff at my place. No need to involve my parents or Grandma. Right. Like that would last long.


"It's his day off, Steph. He's not here." Morelli wasn't answering his cell phone or his house phone. And he wasn't at work. I'd called him first since I'd known this stuff had to go to the cops anyway, and I'd wanted to avoid the blow-up if he discovered that I'd called Ranger before him.

Well, he was unreachable; he couldn't blame me for calling the man in black now. I pressed speed dial one and waited. It went straight to voice mail.

"I've got…a bit of a problem," I told Ranger's voice mail. "Call me as soon as you get this."

I sat on the couch and watched an hour of 'I Dream of Jeannie'. Still no Ranger. He usually called back right away. Maybe he was in a meeting. I decided to call Rangeman and find out.

"The boss is offline," Tank told me.

"Offline?" I asked. "Where? For how long? Is he in the wind? He didn't tell me he was leaving."

Tank chuckled lightly on the other end. "Just for the day, Steph. I'm not sure where he is but he'll be back tomorrow. Was there something you needed?"

I hesitated. I really wanted Ranger to come take care of this. I wanted him here when the cops showed up, keeping me safe, keeping me sane. I supposed one of Ranger's men would have to do.

"I got another delivery from our little friend," I told Tank.

"You at home?" Like he couldn't just pull up a screen somewhere and check for himself. Ranger always had a tracking device on me.

"Yeah," I said.

"You okay?" I almost laughed. That was such an un-Tank-like question. Ranger must be training his men on how to deal with Stephanie catastrophes.

"I'd be better if Ranger was a solid human being instead of the wind."

Tank laughed. "I'll be there in ten." Then he hung up.


Tank was there in ten minutes like he said. He brought Bobby and Lester who were going to search the apartment for any evidence before I told them that this wasn't the crime scene.

"Shit, Steph, you messed with a crime scene?" Lester said. "There could have been valuable evidence."

"My parents don't need to know about this," I replied. "And they would if there were a bunch of people at their house searching for evidence. There was nothing. I promise."

Lester sighed. "Fine," he said. "Give me the piggy foot and the note. B and I'll get right on that." He and Bobby grabbed the stuff and left.

"Where are you staying, Steph?" Tank asked me once the other two were gone.

"Here."

He narrowed his eyes. "Stephanie."

"Tank, I'm not running away. So far this guy's just…"

I was interrupted by the phone ringing. I looked at Tank who motioned for me to answer it. I did.

"Hello?"

"He's not there when you need him, Stephanie." I put it on speaker phone. "Does it make you wonder where he is? I don't wonder, Stephanie. I know. She's more important than you. He's with her. Right now. While you're in trouble and needing him. I'd be there for you, Stephanie. You deserve better." I heard the click and raced for the bathroom.

When I was sure nothing was coming up, I stood up and returned to the kitchen. Tank was on the phone.

"Yeah. No, no direct threats. Dunno. Or the boss. Yeah. Keep me posted."

"Who was that?" I asked.

"Manny," Tank said, putting his phone back in the holder on his belt. "He's our resident profiler."

"Should we go to the cops?" I asked quietly.

"Bobby and Lester will turn everything over when they're done with it." He flipped my phone over and took a small device off of the back. "I want Manny to hear this."

I froze. "You…you've been recording my calls?" I managed to choke out.

He looked at me for a moment as if considering how best to answer. "Now, Steph…"

"I'll kill him."

"Stephanie, listen to me." He placed a large hand on my shoulder and I looked up at him. "Ranger is just trying to help you. We need all the evidence we can get if we want this guy to actually see prison time once we catch him. And we will catch him," he added. "The recordings are time stamped. As long as we know the times this guy called, those are the only ones we need to listen to. Ranger isn't trying to invade your privacy, he's just trying to keep you safe."

Safe, I thought. Ranger was always trying to keep me safe. I didn't deserve him. I fell forward and bawled into Tank's chest. This day, this week, it was all too much for me. I didn't care that this was Tank; huge, forbidding, ex-army guy Tank. I didn't care that I'd promised myself I wouldn't break down. I didn't care that I had snot running down my lip or that my face was all splotchy.

"He's with her," I wailed to Tank. He said nothing, just stood perfectly still and let me cry into his shirt. The weird part was, I didn't even know who I was talking about. Joe or Ranger? And with whom? And which one was I crying over?

"Shhh," Tank said after a moment. "It'll be alright." His hand came up to awkwardly rub my back and I finally relaxed into him.

"I'm okay," I said after awhile. "I'll be okay."

He looked down at me like he didn't quite believe me, but then he nodded.

"Where are you staying tonight?"

My eyes flashed to his. "I told you, here."

He sighed. "Steph, Ranger will kill me if…"

"Well, Ranger's not here, is he? If he wants me elsewhere he can move me himself. And he won't kill you," I added. "He needs you too much."

Tank groaned and rubbed a hand across his face. "Shit, Steph."

"Just go, Tank. I'll be fine." I ushered him to the door.

"But, Steph…"

"No."

He took one step into the hall. "It's on your head," he said, and then he left.

I shut and locked the door behind him, then slid down to the floor. One of the men in my life was cheating on me. No, scratch that, because Ranger couldn't really cheat, could he? We weren't actually together. Ranger could see whomever he wanted to see and I didn't have any say in it. So, then why did that thought cut me deeper than the idea of Joe banging Terry Gilman? Was this how Ranger felt every time he saw me with Morelli? God, I hoped not, because it hurt like hell, and I would never want Ranger to hurt like this, not because of me.

But maybe the psycho really was just that, a psycho. Maybe he was making all of this up. Maybe I really was the only woman in either of their lives. I stifled a sob. Yeah, and maybe Tastykakes really were good for you.


I knew that Tank had placed a guy in my parking lot to watch over me, but I still took my gun out of my cookie jar and loaded it. I'd decided that I'd stay in today. I'd called the office and asked Connie if anything new had come in. She'd said no. That meant that the only skip I had left was Donna Dernon, and there was no way I was going after her today, Merry Man escort or no.

So, here I was at five in the evening, still in my pajamas, sitting in front of my TV, gun on the coffee table, a bottle of water in one hand and a peanut butter and olive sandwich in the other; comfort food. I had distracted myself with a Mission Impossible marathon, but movies couldn't keep my mind occupied much longer. I needed sugar. I needed a donut. I needed Ben and Jerry.

I got dressed in record time and flew out the door and to the parking lot. Hector was sitting in a Rangeman SUV in the spot next to Big Blue. Now, Hector kind of scared me. He was big and intimidating and he didn't speak much English. It was a show of how desperate I was that I walked over to the SUV and climbed into the passenger's seat. I could have driven myself, but I figured that as long as Ranger was forcing a Merry Man escort on me, I might as well waste his gas.

"I need ice cream," I told Hector. He stared at me like I was from another planet. Or maybe just another country.

"Sugar? You know, sweets?"

Hector continued to stare.

"Ben and Jerry's?"

Hector's face broke into a wide grin.

"Ah, Ben y Jerry's. A veces mi esposa come un paquete entero de esto. Es ese tiempo del mes. ¿No?"

It was my turn to stare. I really should have Ranger teach me some Spanish. Of course, then he wouldn't be able to talk about me to his men without me knowing. Oh well.

"Umm, sure. Yeah."

"Sí?"

"Uh, sí."

Hector let out a loud chuckle and turned on the SUV. We drove to the nearest Seven Eleven and went in together. I bought a pint of Chunky Monkey, a Butterscotch Krimpet, a Chocolate Junior, a Peanut Butter Kandy Kake, and a bag of Fritos. Hector laughed all the way back to the car.

Hector walked me up to my apartment, did a quick search and left laughing to himself and mumbling something like, "Pobre Jefe."

I decided to take a quick shower before I settled down to my dessert feast. The hot water helped to ease some of the tension I'd been feeling since last night. I hopped out, dried off and dressed in a clean pair of sweats. Then I put Ghostbusters in the DVD player, plopped myself down on the couch and peeled back the lid on my B&J's.

Half an hour into the movie I found myself lost. Was it to this part already? I'd missed the whole beginning of the movie. My brain was too focused on what my stalker had said on the phone this morning.

I'd come to the conclusion that he must be telling the truth about the other woman. Why would he lie? Because he's psycho, I reminded myself. Yes, but why are they both still unreachable? I'd tried both Joe and Ranger about three more times each. Both their phones still went straight to voice mail. I contemplated driving to Morelli's house to make sure he wasn't dead or something, but decided against it. He was probably on a job…or with another woman. I took deep breaths to stop myself from crying again. Would it be so bad? Hadn't I just discovered yesterday that I didn't love him the right way for a lasting relationship? Yes. Did that mean that it wouldn't hurt if he was cheating on me? No.

I didn't even really want to contemplate Ranger with another woman. I knew, logically, that there must have been other women. I couldn't have expected him to be celibate for all this time. I guess I just wanted to be able to think that none of them had meant anything. I knew it was selfish. I knew I had no right to wish that, but there it was. I loved Ranger. I'd known it since the Scrog incident. What I hadn't realized until now was that I wanted Ranger to love me back. How could I want such a thing when I was still with Morelli? I was a horrible person.

I closed my eyes and let a few tears slip down my face. I loved two men. Joe, who had been in my life for so long that he was a constant. He was there even when everything else in the world seemed to be wrong. He'd been my beginning, I guess I'd never really thought about him not being my ending. But I wasn't in love with him, not in the way required to sustain marriages and build families. Why else would it be so easy to be off-again? We fought constantly. We were friends, but we didn't really talk about anything that mattered. We had great sex. Ranger was right, it really was an unhealthy relationship. It shouldn't be this hard, I thought morosely. It shouldn't be a constant battle until one of us throws up a white flag. It shouldn't be so easy for us to love other people. Me, at least, for me to love other people. One other person.

Ranger. He was a more recent addition to my life, but somehow it felt like he'd been there forever. I trusted him implicitly. Not something I could truthfully say about Joe. Ranger had never lied to me, never hurt me, not on purpose anyway. Oh, it had hurt that morning after our night together, when he'd walked out and told me to go back to Morelli, but I refused to believe that he'd known it would hurt me. Ranger wasn't that cruel. He was the glue that held me together. When something went wrong I knew that he would appear, as if out of nowhere, and put my life back together again. It was hard for him to let people in, I knew that, but he had been letting me in, bit by bit, for awhile now. Besides Mary Lou, he was my best friend. I knew that Joe should have taken this position, but he didn't. It was Ranger. It had been Ranger for a long time.

Where Joe was comfortable, Ranger was comfort. Where Joe was safe, Ranger was my safety. Where Joe was pleasure, Ranger was passion and love and…life.

I wasn't sure what there could ever be between us, what he would let there be. Maybe nothing. All I knew was that I loved him just as much as I loved Joe…maybe more. And now he was out there with another woman. I shuddered as another round of tears made their appearance. I didn't know that, I reminded myself. It could be Joe. Or it could be neither one of them. I felt like my head was going to implode from all the speculation. I pushed everything from my mind and only one thought remained. No matter how all of this turned out, Joe and I were over. I couldn't do this to him any longer, couldn't do it to myself. We both deserved better, more.

I fell asleep that night praying to God that it was Joe with the other woman. How awful is that?


A/N: Translations courtesy of five years of Spanish classes. If there are any mistakes, you can blame it on the fact that it's been about two years since I've used it for anything besides polite conversation.

"Ah, Ben y Jerry's. A veces mi esposa come un paquete entero de esto. Es ese tiempo del mes. ¿No?"

"Ah, Ben and Jerry's. Sometimes my wife eats a whole package of this. It is that time of the month, no?"

(I couldn't find my Spanish/English dictionary to find the word for carton, pint, etc. I figured 'package' gets the point across.)

"Pobre Jefe."

"Poor Boss."