This is the sequel I was warning you about…and by its nature, it's AU, because Joe is still dead. Other than that, I don't think you need to have read 'Living on a Prayer' for it to make sense.

Thank you so much for your kind reviews, I really appreciate them.

Merci vielmals to Stayce for listening to my whining and helping me out constantly. Couldn't have done it without you, Babe.

Disclaimer: All characters are borrowed from JE, the title is borrowed from Bon Jovi

Keep the Faith

Chapter 6

The only reason I slept at all that night was because I was pretty much drunk. Lula and I had polished off a six-pack and I wasn't much of a drinker.

When I woke up I felt like I'd been hit by a bus and eaten by a bear. My head was pounding, although I didn't know if that was from a hangover or from the accident, and with every movement, my muscles screamed. Probably it was a good day to stay in bed.

Except I knew that my mom would be calling before too long because Bob was still at her house and she'd worry. And since I hadn't done much yesterday, my Inbox at work would be overflowing. Then I also had to at least make a cameo at the bonds office to see if any new skips had come in. My rent still didn't pay itself, after all. It was a little after eight and I knew that if I closed my eyes, I'd sleep until noon, so I sat up with a grunt.

My entire body protested when I rolled out of bed, and I limped into the bathroom like an old woman. It took about fifteen minutes under the hot water until I could move my neck properly again, and slowly my muscles and joints relaxed as well. Now I wished Dr. Mahoney had given me something stronger than Advil, I really didn't have the time or energy to be in pain. At least the shower had made me feel a lot better.

My phone rang and I realized I'd forgotten to take the handset with me into the bedroom when I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around me and hurried through the apartment to answer.

"Hey hot stuff," Lester said when I'd pushed the button. I smiled relieved, "I take it you're feeling better then?"

"It was just a flesh wound, doesn't even get me sick days. I'm on desk duty for the rest of the week though and I was wondering when you're coming in."

"Do you miss me or are you just bored?" I teased and I could feel Lester smile on the other end. "Little bit of both," he said. I told him I'd be in as soon as I got dressed and he predictably asked if I needed help with that. Now I was convinced that he really was feeling better.

"I can manage, thank you," I said, "See you soon!" And we disconnected.

One less worry, I thought. Lester was going to be okay and he was going to keep me company in the office.

I took my pills, did the hair and make-up thing, then I dressed in my RangeMan uniform so I wouldn't have to change. Rex was sleeping in his soup can, so I just gave him fresh water and a few hamster nuggets and tippy-toed out of the kitchen so I wouldn't wake him. I made a mental note to charge my cell phone when I grabbed my pocketbook, I'd totally forgotten the night before.

I took the elevator down and wondered if Lula's plan would work with Lester instead of Tank. I'd have to fill him in, of course, but if he agreed, it could be fun. Then again, Lester might have a bit too much fun 'playing' couple.

I was lost in my thoughts and didn't see the man approach. When he grabbed my elbow, I yelped in surprise.

"Miss Plum," he said, "Please join me and Mr. Guzzarella in the car." The iron grip he had on my elbow belied his polite tone. And now I recognized him, he was one of the bodyguards at Shorty's the day before. Shit. How was I supposed to call Eddie if I was taken by surprise like this? I glanced at the guy. He was almost seven feet tall and just about as wide, he looked like he could hardly walk with all that muscle. His head seemed to sit on his shoulders without a neck, and his gray eyes looked like there wasn't much behind them.

I quickly scanned the parking lot. Maybe, just maybe, Ranger had ordered a couple Merry Men to watch me, as he'd done before. But today, there was only one black SUV in the lot and that was mine.

I had always rolled my eyes at Ranger's protectiveness, so I guess in a way I now got what I deserved. Not only had Ranger not asked me about the kidnapping, he hadn't sent the guys to watch over me either. I finally had my independence, and look where it'd gotten me. I would have laughed at the irony if my jaw hadn't been clenched tight as the muscle led me over to an idling Towncar. It wasn't the same car from the day before, since this one showed no body damage, but I wasn't surprised Harry the Hammer had more than one black car with tinted windows.

The muscle man opened a back door and I wasn't shocked to see Guzzarella sitting inside. "Thank you for joining me, Stephanie," Guzzarella said smiling. But his smile didn't reach his eyes. The bodyguard didn't release my elbow until I was seated in the car, and he shut the door immediately. The interior of the car was the same, beige leather seats, tinted divide between the backseat and the front.

"I trust Mr. Garibaldi has informed you of my arrival?" The fake polite tone was beginning to really get on my nerves. Guzzarella and his thugs could talk in this sugar-sweet way all they wanted, it didn't fool me for a second.

"He did." Sort of. Maybe I should have read between the lines some more. A door slammed shut and I assumed muscle man had taken his seat in the front, because moments later, we were moving.

I glared at Guzzarella. "You know I really don't appreciate being kidnapped all the time," I said and was surprised at how calm my voice sounded. I realized I was more pissed than scared. I'd told Lester I was on my way out, and he was in the control room. When I didn't show up in a couple hours, he'd check my car's GPS, maybe even sooner. Then he'd realize my car was still in the lot and he'd call me, I was sure of it. Oh, but then he'd send the cavalry and they would try and rescue me again because I still hadn't had a chance to tell them what was going on. Double shit.

My only hope was that this 'meeting' wouldn't last too long and I would for once be able to get myself out of trouble.

"Where're we going?" I asked into the silence. More to hear my own voice than to get an answer, but Guzzarella was apparently in the mood to talk. "Mr. Garibaldi has requested your attendance at his house for breakfast," he said. Oh boy. I shut up after that and stared out of the window so I wouldn't have to look at Guzzarella. I was trying so hard to keep calm that my fingernails were digging into my palms and the inside of my cheek had begun to bleed from biting it. To make matters worse, I'd forgotten to take the Advil and my headache was showing no signs of subsiding.

I prayed and promised God I'd be vigilant for the rest of my life and would never leave my house without my gun drawn if he'd only let me get out of this unscathed.

We took a right off Hamilton onto Chambers and picked up Route 1 after a couple miles. I had no idea where Harry lived, but I felt a little better knowing that I wouldn't have to spend much more time with Guzzarella. Harry was Vinnie's brother in law, and Vinnie was my cousin. I told myself that practically made us family and he wouldn't harm me. I'd never met Harry, but I trusted him a lot more than Guzzarella anyway. Guzzarella looked mean, like he skinned cats before breakfast and then went out to kill children.

When we left Route 1 after about a half hour, we were in a residential area that looked as old and rich as Princeton, but I didn't recognize it. Still, this was good. Probably we were really going to Harry's house. His family would be there. This was just going to be a talk, I was almost sure of it, and finally I was able to breathe normally again.

I was still staring out the window when we left the main road for a long and winded driveway, the kind that leads to mega mansions. We were driving up a hill so I couldn't see what it looked like, but I was sure it was going to be big. Like, mob-boss big.

Sure enough, after another minute, the off-white two-story mansion came into view. It didn't look like it belonged in Jersey, it looked Mediterranean, with its white stucco front and red ceramic roof tiles. There a lot of manicured bushes around it and the trees in the front looked old, and everything was landscaped to perfection. The driveway continued off to the left, where I could make out another rooftop, maybe garages or something.

The Towncar slowed down just as the double-front doors opened and a man dressed in the universal black of a butler stepped out.

As soon as the car stopped, I heard a front door slam and seconds later, my door was opened by the muscle man.

"Eric will accompany you inside," Guzzarella said, took my pocketbook and knocked against the divide. Eric took my elbow again and pulled me out of the car. As soon as I was standing beside him, he slammed the door shut behind me and the car took off.

My heart was back to beating double-time. Even though I'd convinced myself Harry would never harm me in his own house, I was still painfully aware of the fact that I was by myself, in Harry's compound, with the nearest neighbors possibly miles away. I took a deep breath and bit my lip as I hurried to match Eric's pace to the front door.

If it was unusual for caveman-like men to bring women dressed in jeans and a t-shirt to this ridiculously large and lavish house, the butler's reaction to us didn't show it. He looked at Eric, then at me and then back to Eric. "Mr. Garibaldi will see you in the green salon," he announced and took a step back to let us pass. Eric grunted and the butler led the way into the house.

I was too nervous to take a good look around, but I remember the marble floor and the statues in the hallway and enormous paintings on the wall. The house felt more like a museum than a home.

Eric still had a tight grip on my elbow as we followed the butler down a hallway. Finally he stopped and opened a door. Eric let go of my elbow and nudged me inside, then he closed the door behind me.

I was in a sitting room, furnished with the kind of couches some people have in their 'good' living room, furniture you look at but don't use. Two love seats were arranged around a coffee table with carved legs. On my right was a fireplace and next to it was an end table, but there was no other furniture in the room. There was another one of those huge paintings on the wall to my left, depicting some monarch on a horse. There were two huge windows at the far wall, but no other door beside the one I'd come through. Probably that's why Eric had felt it was safe to leave me.

I looked around the room to find anything that could be used as a weapon, without even my pocketbook, I felt very vulnerable. Well, even more vulnerable.

Short of breaking off a table leg, there was nothing in the room I could use, no fireplace tools, no heavy knick-knacks.

Since I was too nervous to sit down, I paced the room, just as anxious to 'get it over with', since I realized there was no way out for me now. After a couple minutes I stopped and listened. My erratic heartbeat was the only sound I could hear for a while, but when I listened past that, there were no other sounds in the house. I imagined Eric was keeping watch outside the door, but if the butler was with him, they weren't talking.

And just how long were they going to keep me waiting? I hated waiting for anything, but being scared and nervous while waiting was the worst. I knew I'd start chewing my fingernails any moment now. I tried to picture Ranger in the same situation, how calm and ready he would be. But instead of inspiring me, it just made me sad again to think of him.

When the door finally opened, I jumped in surprise and stumbled backwards onto on of the loveseats. A tall, gray-haired man in his late 60's stood in the doorway and looked at me. He reminded me of Marlon Brando in the Godfather, but maybe that was just because I had a good idea who he was: Harry the Hammer. In the flesh. I meant to clear my throat and it came out as a squeak.

"Stephanie, we meet at last," he said, closing the distance between us, extending his hand. "I'm glad you could make it." Okay, the false politeness definitely had to go or I would scream. We both knew I wasn't here voluntarily, and he made it sound like I'd accepted his invitation to afternoon tea.

I slowly stood up because I hated looking up at him and crossed my arms over my chest. I wanted to say something snippy, although I didn't know what, but then I thought of my mom and how she'd probably smack me upside the head for being rude to a 'fine gentleman' like Harry and the thought made me giggle hysterically.

Harry stopped at arm's length and frowned at me. "Everything all right, Stephanie?"

A knock on the door made me jump again. The butler opened the door to a maid of Ella's age who brought in a tray of coffee and doughnuts and toast. She put everything on the coffee table and I watched her intently to avoid looking at Harry.

I didn't know how to address him. 'Harry' didn't seem right…"Mr. Garibaldi," I started when the maid had left and we were alone again. Seemed safe enough.

"Please," he said and motioned towards the loveseat. "Call me Harry and take a seat. This won't take long. Coffee?" He picked up the coffee pot and filled two cups and I sat down. He was really going through with this, I realized. Just two friends having a friendly chat over coffee.

The good thing about it was that I could feel my heart rate slowly return to normal. Harry didn't look evil, he didn't look all that different from any of my parents' elderly neighbors. Morelli would have called him 'old school mob'. My gut feeling had been right, I wasn't brought to his house to be hurt. But why was I here?

"No, thank you," I managed when Harry held out the full cup to me. Coffee was the last thing I needed, my nerves were already shot.

Harry sat down next to me and took a sip of his coffee, never taking his eyes off me. "I apologize for the way Mr. Guzzarella handled the situation, Stephanie." There was so much sincerity in his voice that I instantly believed him. "I'm afraid my associate has visions of grandeur every now and then and misjudges situations."

"Okay," I said. I'd meant to say Guzzarella was insane and shouldn't be let out unsupervised, but all I could manage was 'okay'.

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong, in November of last year, we negotiated a deal?" He put his cup on the coffee table and raised his eyebrows. I met his eyes for the first time, and didn't see anything to warrant my earlier fear. Harry the Hammer was a gentleman, was my gut feeling. Go figure. I almost giggled again when I realized how 'normal' Harry spoke. I'd expected him to sound like Marlon Brando's character along with looking like him, or at least talk like a Soprano. I bit my lip to stifle the giggle, Harry would think I'd lost it. I wondered if he could turn the English professor accent on and off at will, I was pretty sure it wasn't how he 'usually' spoke. No one in Jersey talks like that, without an accent, all words pronounced.

"Yes," I almost whispered when I realized he was actually waiting for a reply. "Thank you again for letting me use your hotel room." Twice, actually. The first time, I'd gone to Atlantic City and stayed in his suite at the Taj Mahal to hide from Ranger and the second time, I'd stayed there with Ranger.

Harry made a dismissive gesture but smiled. "I take it you passed along my message?"

I blushed. The 'message' had been what I had to tell the hotel staff to get the key to the room. At the time, I'd been too grief-stricken so shortly after Joe's death to be too embarrassed, but now I was mortified. 'I'm here to keep the bed warm for Harry,' was what the 'code word' had been. I nodded and Harry's smile got wider.

"You know, back in the day, it was a true statement. I have fond memories of that suite." I just nodded again, not quite ready to make small talk with a mobster.

Harry's smile faded but his eyes remained kind. "Now for your part," he said and picked a doughnut from the basket. Actually, a doughnut sounded pretty good to me too, but I didn't trust my nervous stomach to keep it down. And I was not going to throw up in front of Harry the Hammer.

"The favor," I completed his sentence and he nodded. "I needed to talk to you in private, this is a rather delicate matter."

Now my eyebrows rose. A delicate matter? Oh God, I hoped it wasn't a euphemism for killing someone! "I'm not killing anyone for you, I'm a very bad shot." I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Harry froze mid-chew and sent me a curious look, then he threw his head back and laughed. It was a genuine, friendly laugh, and I felt myself relax a little more.

"I am not going to ask you to kill anybody in exchange for a hotel room. The price for murder is a lot higher than that." I wasn't sure whether he was kidding or not, I just concentrated on the part where I didn't have to kill anybody.

"Then what is it you want?" I asked, and as soon as the words left my mouth I had a horrible suspicion. "I'm not sleeping with you either," I said, just to get it out of the way.

This time, Harry snorted. "Again, sweetheart, the price is higher for that as well, I'm afraid." Then he got serious again. "No, the matter I brought you here for involves neither murder nor sex, not from you or anyone else."

I let out the air in a whoosh and sank back in the loveseat. No shooting, no sex, it couldn't be that bad. Maybe I wouldn't have to regret agreeing to this deal for the rest of my life after all.

"My daughter married a pig," Harry said and I flinched at the venom in his voice. It took me a second to get back from my fear of becoming a mafia hit man. His daughter? Right, mental head slap. Vinnie the pig. Of course. I nodded slowly, wondering if Burg etiquette demanded I should defend my family. It's just that I couldn't come up with anything in Vinnie's defense. I'd called him a weasel for as long as I could remember. From the look on Harry's face, he wasn't any happy about having Vinnie in his family than I was.

"A perverted, cheating pig," he went on. Then he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend your family." Wow, the manners on this man. I'd been very close to telling him how much I agreed with him.

"My understanding is you work for him." A statement not a question. "Part-time," I rushed to say. I'm sure Harry knew I didn't socialize with Vinnie, but I needed to make that point. He nodded. "And trust me, I would have dealt with him a long time ago, but for some strange reason, Lucille loves him." He looked up at the ceiling, I guessed to ask for an explanation from above.

"I still don't see how…" I started, but Harry held up a hand to stop me. "Joyce Barnhard," he said and I stiffened. "What about her?"

"You don't need to protect that cafone. I know what's going on." He waved in the direction of the door, "It's not like anyone is keeping it a secret."

I swallowed. I didn't know what to say. Thank God we'd already established there'd be no killing. I didn't think I could even kill Joyce, and I really hated her.

"This is what you will do for me," Harry said and leaned closer. "You will make sure, that once and for all, that woman, that…zoccola, stays out of his life." He almost spat the last part and his accent slipped into Jersey-Italian, then he straightened. "Excuse my language."

I liked Harry, he seemed to be a very good judge of character. I'd be very hard pressed to find anything good to say about my cousin Vinnie or about Joyce Barnhard, who'd caused my divorce by porking my husband on our dining table.

However…"How would I manage that?" I asked. It wasn't like I could just talk to Vinnie and convince him of the errors of his ways.

Harry smiled. "That would be your part of the deal, so I'll leave it up to you. As long as you deliver."

Okay. I needed to focus on the positive. Harry hadn't asked me to whack somebody or prostitute myself. I'd do this for him and I'd be off the hook. And it wasn't even illegal. And no one would have to find out I was doing it as a favor for Harry; everybody knew I hated Joyce after all.

"And that's it?" I asked, just to make sure, careful to not make it sound like I thought it was going to be too easy.

"That's it," Harry confirmed and finished his doughnut. That was too easy. I mean, I had a good feeling about Harry, but that was pushing it.

"How will I know when I've delivered?" I gestured, trying to indicate the vagueness of the task. "When he hasn't seen her for a week? A month?"

Harry sighed. "The goal is he never sees her again, but that's not your job. You just do what you can, Sweetheart." He finished his coffee and got up.

"The car is waiting for you outside to take you back home. You know how to get in touch with me," he said and held out his hand. I got up, took his hand and we shook. I'd made a deal with a mobster, I thought. And it wasn't even bad. Except for Guzzarella, the experience had been tolerable, I decided.

Harry opened the door and pushed me in front of him. Eric was gone, the hall was empty. The butler appeared moments later with my shoulder bag in one hand and waited for me. Harry nodded once and left in the other direction. I was dismissed. It was over. I had to suppress the urge to jump up and pump my fist, that's how elated I was.

The car was waiting for me as promised, and I was the only one in the back seat. I couldn't see the driver because of the tinted windows and black divide, but I didn't see anyone in the passenger seat. I sank back into the seat and relaxed. It was over, I thought again.

The Towncar pulled into my lot and came to a stop in front of the back door. I reached for the door handle, but before I could pull it, my door was yanked open and I was looking down the barrel of a gun.

I gasped and stared at the gun, so that I didn't see the arm that was coming from my right, pulling me out of the car by my shirt. I fell against a wall of chest and gasped. Bobby was looking down at me and a smile slowly spread over his face.

"She's alone, stand down," Tank announced from the Lincoln and holstered the gun as he slammed the door shut. The car took off at a normal speed, probably the driver was used to that kind of welcome. When the Lincoln was gone, I could see Hal and Junior secure their guns and get into a RangeMan SUV.

"Hon, you gave us quite a scare," Bobby exclaimed, holding me at arm's length now but not letting go. "Whose car was that?" Tank asked behind me.

I took a step back, smiling at Bobby to show him I was fine. "That was Harry Garibaldi's car. I'm fine, he was just dropping me off."

"You may want to call Lester. He's the one who announced defcon 5 when you didn't answer your phone," Tank said, but when I turned to look at him he was smiling and I knew he was kidding.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" Bobby wanted to know. "I forgot to charge it," I explained, "It died." Bobby and Tank exchanged a look and Bobby ruffled my hair. "Never a dull moment with you," he said.

I knew they were waiting for me to explain where I'd been and how I happened to be dropped off in a mobster's car. I sighed. "It's a long story. I'll tell you all about it when I come in, okay?" I gave them my best smile.

"You coming in today?" Tank asked and I knew I was off the hook. "Yes," I replied, "I just have to stop by the bonds office and my parents first."

Bobby reminded me to charge my cell phone and then they both walked over to the waiting SUV. Hal waved at me through the open window and they took off.

Tank, Bobby, Hal and Junior. Not Ranger. I sighed and told myself to get over it. He was in Boston and wouldn't fly in every time there was an alarm at his ex-girlfriend's house.

For a moment, I thought about going upstairs, charging my cell phone, have some coffee. Avoid real life.

I sighed, hiked my shoulder bag up higher and walked over to my car.

I drove over to the bonds office, still enjoying the fact that I didn't have to look over my shoulder for Guzzarella anymore. I grimaced every time I realized what a big deal I'd made out of it and how simple it had turned out to be. Maybe simple wasn't the right word, I had no idea how to go about fulfilling my end of the deal.

But after fearing Harry wanted me to off somebody, trying to get rid of Joyce Barnhard was nothing. I might not succeed, I realized, but I'd have fun trying. I'd been working on it for a while, although I never focused my attention on her 'relationship' with Vinnie before. I shuddered involuntarily when I imagined what the two of them were doing behind Vinnie's closed office door when Joyce needed a favor.

Thinking of how I was off the hook, so to say, reminded me that I had to call Eddie to tell him everything was okay and he didn't have to worry by the phone any more.

I found myself scanning the street for Joyce's black Jeep as I pulled into a parking spot half a block from the office and killed the engine. With a sigh, I grabbed my bag and opened the door.

With any luck, I could kill two birds with one stone here. I could pick up some FTA files to hopefully make some money, and I could start working on Vinnie.

"Look who's still in town," Connie greeted me when I walked into the office. Lula popped her head up from behind Connie's desk where she'd been filing. She was grinning. "You look like you didn't get any more sleep than me."

"Wanna do lunch?" I asked Lula. I didn't want to say 'I need to talk to you' in front of Connie as if I was going to say something to Lula I didn't want Connie to know about. Which I was, of course, planning to do. Lula understood. "You want me to go skip tracing with you, dontcha? You tryin' to bribe me or somethin'?"

I smiled. "Or something." Then I turned to Connie, "You got any new skips for me?"

Connie picked up some files from a pile next to her. "It depends on what you want. I have some easy ones, some less easy ones and some dangerous ones…"

'Dangerous' meant more money. Those were the kind of FTAs Ranger usually took care of. Whenever I got one of them, he'd insist on riding along for the take down, and I never objected. I used to argue, trying to show him I could do it on my own, but I wasn't stupid. There was nothing I could do if a skip pulled his gun on me, I needed backup. And I'd enjoyed the time we were able to spend together, waiting for the skip to show up, surveilling sometimes for hours.

"Let me see them all," I decided, "I'll pick the ones I can handle." Connie picked up the stack of files, ten in all maybe, and handed them over. "Pick as many as you like and I'll make them yours."

I needed Vinnie's or Connie's authorization in writing to go after an FTA, but Connie hated doing the paperwork in vain, so she only printed out the contract when I committed to them.

"Is he in?" I asked and nodded towards Vinnie's closed office door. Connie shook her head, "He had an early appointment and isn't back yet." Lula didn't turn but quacked like a duck and Connie and I grimaced. Good thing Harry probably didn't know about Vinnie's preference for animals…or maybe he did and he considered it the lesser of two evils when compared to Joyce Barnhard.

Either way, my talk to Vinnie would have to wait. I got myself a cup of coffee, took the files and plopped down on the naugahyde couch to study them.

There were three easy ones. None of them had been arrested for violent crimes, they were first-time offenders that weren't known to carry guns. "I'll start with these," I told Connie, waving the three files. "Then I come back for more tomorrow." Connie nodded and brought up the apprehension authorization on her computer to fill in my name and print them out. I signed my part of it and put the files into my shoulder bag.

"You wanna do some bounty hunting first and then get lunch or the other way around?" I asked Lula. She put away the last of the files and closed the file cabinet with her hip.

"All that filin' gave me an appetite," she said. "Let's eat first." I'd been hoping she'd say that because I really wanted to talk about her plan some more now that I could concentrate on it fully. Maybe I'd find out what she thought about Lester instead of Tank.

"Then let's go." I smiled at her as she grabbed her purse. "Bring me back an Italian sub," Connie threw in as Lula followed me to the door. "Will do," I promised and we left the office.

Lula turned to me when we'd reached the sidewalk. "You wanna tell me why all of a sudden you're so anxious to get food?" I motioned towards the SUV and beeped it open. "I need to talk to you."

TBC

Cafone - boor, ill-mannered person.

zoccola - slut, bitch

A/N: So, what do you think of the 'job' Harry has for Steph? Were you expecting something else? Do you think Steph should do it so well that Harry puts her on his payroll??