Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes.

…

From Chapter 3:

She leaned forward a little and laced her fingers together in front of her against her thighs. "Your records state you were declared missing on September 4, 2010. A death certificate was issued on October 18th that same year."

I wanted to laugh hysterically because what she said was just too insane to be true. "That's impossible. I'm right here." I scrubbed my hands over my face in an attempt to rub away the fog that had begun to close in around me. Then the dates clicked. "Wait! October? Shit, how long have I been gone? What's today's date?" I hadn't had a reason to check before now, but it was suddenly the most important detail of my life.

She looked apologetic as she said, "July 23, 2011."

...

Chapter 4

"I've been gone over ten months," I whispered after counting back to September in my head. My vision grayed around the edges and I sat down, nauseous. I aimed for the chair, but missed completely and my butt slammed down onto the floor. My shocked brain didn't even register the pain because it was too busy trying to process everything. It just couldn't be — it couldn't!

If someone asked me to swear on the Bible or to the Pope himself, I'd say today was September fourth. I would have challenged anyone that Ranger and I were moving in together today. But my head argued over the logic of what I could see versus what I thought I knew. When I considered Tank's reaction and Madge's suspicion, not to mention that I was in Paris, the odds were against my version of reality.

I completely zoned out for an indeterminate amount of time while I had my internal debate. Apparently at some point I'd moved from the floor back to the chair – one more thing I didn't remember doing – but Madge's voice on the phone snapped me out of it. She flicked her eyes to me and must have noticed that I was coherent again because she nodded and said, "Yes, she's here, sir. Just one moment." She pressed a button on the base unit and, finally, looked sympathetic to my case. I was too numb to say 'I told you so' and settled for slumping my shoulders and leaning against the short back of the chair. "I have Warrant Officer Mañoso on the phone asking for you. Are you able to take the call?"

I leaned forward and swallowed hard in an attempt to get my heart to move down to where it belonged. All day, all I wanted was to talk to Ranger. Now was my chance and I didn't know what to say to him. My emotions warred within me and, more than anything in the world, I wanted answers. And I wanted my life fixed — meaning the life I had in 2010.

I pressed my fingers to my temples to stem the throbbing pain there when her words sunk in. "Warrant Officer?" Ranger was a police officer? I tried to wrap my head around that thought and couldn't see it. There's no way he'd become a cop. I'd heard her wrong.

"Yes, Warrant Officer R. Carlos Mañoso. He's on the phone. Are you okay? Do you still want to speak with him?"

What the fuck kind of questions were those? I'd just found out my life was not, that I wasn't— I gave myself a shake and stood up on wobbly legs, leaning forward to take the receiver from her. I put the handset to my ear and suddenly had a breathing problem. My voice squeaked out a strange, breathy version of his name. "Ranger?"

A brief silence followed my question and then I heard his quiet, "Stephanie?" The voice was tight and raspier than I remembered, but it was him.

The underlying anguish in his voice struck a chord deep within me and I bit my lips together to keep them from trembling as tears blurred my vision. What he'd gone through, I could only guess, and even then I was sure I'd still be wrong. I couldn't imagine what he was feeling now. Given the way he'd felt about me, the pain and loss couldn't be measured. Despite what I'd just learned, I still feltlike I'd only lost a few hours of my life, not months. No, there wasn't a comparison.

I drew in a deep breath through my nose and cleared my throat. "Yes, it's me."

His silence was a telling thing, really. It had nothing to do with him not actually saying anything, because I was used to his lack of speech. It was the feel of it. Calculating, doubting … uncertain.

Because I was nervous and still stunned, I just opened my mouth and let all the frustration of my day pour out. "Look, I don't know what the hell is going on. Ms. Barker said everyone thinks I … died. I just found out there's a flipping death certificate for me, for Crissake. Did Tank tell you where I am? For the record, I'm not impressed with the place so far. Not really a fan of how I woke up, either." I didn't recognize my own voice, the tone was almost strident. In fact, I sounded like … my mother. Mental groan.

"It really is you," he finally said, as if he wasn't exactly sure of it, yet, but would warm up to the idea.

I breathed out, "I know. I've been trying to tell everyone." Then I cleared my throat and said in a firmer tone, "Granted, I understand people think I'm, uh, that I'm not a–around anymore, but still … Tank didn't recognize my voice. You're even having trouble believing me."

"You—" He stopped for a minute. "This is … unexpected."

"Unexpected? This is unprecedented. I woke up here with nothing. No money for food, not knowing where I was, and then having to go to the friggin' Embassy to try to get home only to find out that—"

"You're sure no one was with you? You're not being followed?" he asked.

"Uh, I didn't see anyone around …" Better not to tell him how unaware of my surroundings I'd been. "Not bad guys, anyway. I woke up with a hippie kid, but I'm certain he had nothing to do with my sudden appearance here. In Paris. By the way, did I mention that I don't speak French? I didn't get a shower, and then I had to walk around in this sticky heat. I'm dirty, I don't even want to know how long it's been since my hair saw a brush. Oh yeah. My hair—"

"Babe!" he said firmly, not quite shouting.

That was all I needed and what I didn't realize I'd been waiting for him to say. No matter what else happened, he'd switched back to 'babe' and I knew everything would be okay. I relaxed. Slightly. "Sorry."

"We'll figure this out. What do you need most?" he asked.

"You," I said, "yesterday." In fact, I wanted him yesterday, as in the day I thought was yesterday. "Please."

He was silent for a few beats and I heard computer keys clicking. He sighed. It was slight, but I heard it. "I'll be on a plane as soon as I can arrange leave."

"Leave?" My brow furrowed in confusion.

Again, he was silent for a minute, and then said, "Army."

So, he wasn't a cop after all. I didn't know what to think about him being in the Army again. That had never been a part of his plan. The only thing I could think to say was, "Really?"

"Yes." Leaving no room for me to question him, he said, "You sure about this guy offering you a place to stay?"

Tank had certainly filled him in on everything I'd said during our brief conversation. "You mean you haven't checked him out already?" I asked, surprised.

Ranger didn't say anything for a minute. Then he said, "I called you." Wow. Just … wow. Ranger always checked. This was unfamiliar territory for me. I'd expected something more normal: the protector, the one who wanted to do a full security check to be certain I wasn't staying with a psychopath. I was even prepared to get annoyed with him over it. Ranger calling me over doing his security thing threw me.

"He's wonderful, a real angel," I said. "He fed me, brought me to the Embassy, gave me money, and then offered me a place to stay."

"Stephanie," he said in a quiet voice with a slight edge to his tone. I wondered if he was jealous or suspicious of Jean Philippe and went on to explain the rest of the story.

"I haven't met his wife, yet, but he raved about her this morning."

"Okay," he said, more relaxed this time. "When you get there, call my cell." He gave me his new number and I wrote it down on Jean Philippe's card. "Stay close to his place and don't go out alone. I'd even prefer it if you didn't go out at all."

"Ranger," I said. "I need clothes, a toothbrush—"

"Not alone. I have an escort for you." I resisted a sigh. Babysitter was more like it, but I wasn't going to complain right now, given the circumstances. "Take down this number." I copied it onto the business card beneath Ranger's new cell number. "His name is Chaz. Call him. Please, do this for me."

Normally, the situation would annoy me. Always one to crave my independence, I never took kindly to life under guard. For obvious reasons, I decided to let go of it for now. Since I couldn't speak or read French, I was grateful I wouldn't have to stumble solo through the city. Even without my own reasons for wanting a babysitter, I had to consider that Ranger had thought I was dead up until fifteen minutes ago and he most likely wanted a guarantee to my safety.

"Okay, I promise I'll call him to take me shopping."

Silence.

Big sigh. "I'll call him now. Happy?"

"Stephanie … I'll see you soon." And he hung up. I supposed coming back from the dead exempted me from his normal abrupt disconnects. That was a bona fide goodbye.

I turned to Madge and, consumed with relief, held my hand out for a quick handshake. "Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Barker. I know I was difficult for a while, but I appreciate you sticking with me."

She gave my hand a squeeze and removed her glasses, giving me a sincere look. "We have some time to start working on your case, if you'd like to start filling out the paperwork, Miss Plum. We can't make anything official until your death certificate is cancelled and your social security number is reactivated, but we can start the process."

"Thanks, but I think I'll wait until Ranger gets here to see how he wants to do this."

She flicked out her first two fingers. A business card rested between them and I took it gratefully, stuffing it into the back pocket of my jeans with Jean Philippe's card. At the very least, I wouldn't have to repeat the earlier scene from out at the service counter if I had to come back. She leaned back and relaxed with a nod.

"Okay if I use your phone again?"

"Yes, of course."

I called Chaz and explained who I was, though he seemed to know about me already. He ended the call with, "I'll be there in twenty-five." I was left staring at a silent receiver. Was it a requirement for employment with Ranger to be abrupt? The only difference so far had been the French accent. Wow, watch out world. Merry Men, French style.

Letting it go for the moment, I thanked Madge again and left her office to go wait for Chaz in the lobby. Despite everything, I felt my lips tip up in a curious smile as I wondered if a French Merry Man would be the same as a Trenton Merry Man.

I lost track of time staring out the window. Whenever the front doors opened, I turned my head to see who'd come in. I knew Chaz the minute I saw him. Tall, muscular build, clad in black, short blonde hair neatly trimmed, sun bronzed skin, and bright green eyes assessing the room as he approached me. "Miss Plum," he said in his sultry French accent. He didn't ask. Men like Chaz didn't have to ask, they knew everything. Not to mention that Ranger had probably given him a description down to my quirky mannerisms.

"Yes." I held my hand out to shake his and he engulfed it gently with his own. I smiled and received a dazzling smile in return. Okay, so French Merry Men had US Rangemen hotness, but they smiled — a lethal combination. "Should we head directly to my friend's shop?"

"Wherever you want to go."

Chaz and I walked pretty much the same route Jean Philippe and I had taken. Along the way, I dragged him into a little confection shop so I could buy some chocolate and maybe a few other snacks. I needed some happy and I was sure they didn't have Tastykakes in Paris.

Chaz did all the talking for me. I pointed out what I wanted, he ordered, and then he paid. When I protested, he simply said, "Ranger." I shook my head because arguing was pointless and I wanted to focus my energy on eating the chocolate.

It was nearly one thirty when we reached Jean Philippe's shop. Through the storefront window, he saw us approach the door and came out to greet me. He stopped short at the sight of Chaz, but recovered quickly and focused his attention on me. With a look of sheer delight on his handsome face, he said, "Ah, chèrie. What happened at the Embassy? Can you go home now?"

I told him the minimum basics: that I'd been missing longer than I realized and it was a shock for everyone to find out I was in Paris. I left out the whole 'death' thing because I still couldn't wrap my brain around it. Of course, then I felt bad when the troubled look came back into his eyes. "But don't worry. It will be handled soon," I said to reassure him.

He brightened and said, "You have arrived just in time for lunch. Shall we go to my home?"

I nodded my consent and turned to Chaz. "Thanks, I think we've got it from here."

"I'm to escort you to your destination, Ms. Plum." So lovely. Another man my age who insisted on calling me the name of an old maid. I didn't bother to argue with him because it'd be no use. I did wonder, though, how Ranger managed to keep Merry Men scared of him from across the Atlantic.

Jean Philippe looked concerned at Chaz's presence, so I felt the need to reassure him. "I'm sorry. He's staying until I get into your apartment, Jean Philippe."

"No explanation necessary. I recognize a bodyguard when I see one," he said. "I'm more concerned as to the danger which makes him necessary."

He had a good point. I placed my hand on his forearm and said, "If you're afraid I will bring danger to you or your wife, I'm sure Ranger will make arrangements for me to stay elsewhere." I didn't look forward to life in lockdown, but I didn't want someone else to take a chance on their safety for me.

Jean Philippe drew his eyebrows together. "No, no. You misunderstand. I am only concerned for your safety." He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "What would anyone want with a harmless shopkeeper and his wife?" His casual statement alone made me think he was probably more of a handful than he let on.

With a quick glance at Chaz, he said, "I must tell Alexandre I'm leaving. I will be back in one moment." He was literally back in thirty seconds and we were on our way.

The walk to his apartment was swift. In my mind, I thought we'd have a leisurely stroll, maybe him asking for and sharing more personal details. Jean Philippe was obviously more concerned about me than he originally had been with Chaz in the picture.

After ten minutes, we stopped at an aged stone building. I turned to Chaz, who planted his feet on the sidewalk and motioned us toward the door with a smile. I shook my head as I went through the door Jean Philippe held open for me.

Inside the building's foyer, the tempting smell of freshly baked bread and other kitchen aromas greeted us. My stomach growled when I smelled the food and I sent Jean Philippe an apologetic smile.

He chuckled and tugged me over to a staircase. I gave an inward groan as we began our ascent. "There is no shame in having an appetite. Relish it, live it. Make everything in your life about feeding your hunger and you will be happy and content. Oui?"

I nodded. "I'll try." How embarrassing.

"No. To 'try' is to accept the possibility of failure," he said in an enthusiastic whisper. "Just do!" His eyes sparkled with mirth, but I could tell he was completely serious.

I fidgeted awkwardly. Heartfelt moments like this were never very comfortable for me. I did have a desire to live life on my terms. It was the reason I'd jumped off the garage as a kid. It was the reason I'd given my virginity to Morelli, though I'd been warned against him. It was also the reason I'd become a bounty hunter. Most importantly, it was the reason I'd taken a chance with Ranger. I wanted the thrill of living to drive me. "Okay, I will."

Jean Philippe smiled and said, "Stephanie, welcome to my home." I looked around the small landing at the top of the stairs that led to a hallway. He opened the first door on the left and led me into a small apartment where the savory smell of bread and something wonderful exploded to drool level. What the place lacked in size, it compensated with elegance. The furniture was simple and tasteful in creams and browns with rose accents. The tables and floors were all dark hard wood and the walls were painted muted shades of ecru, tan and a pale olive green.

There were thick, cream-colored candles all around, but they were unlit, probably due to the heat. Enticing smells wafted throughout the apartment and I nearly whimpered from my sudden starvation. He led me through an archway near the front door to the kitchen where a woman fluttered around the stove.

She was trim and short, about five feet two inches, and had slightly graying, sandy blonde hair she kept pulled back in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She turned to me with an infectious smile and I couldn't help but return it. Her pale blue eyes were friendly and she had a youthful look; I found myself staring because of the sweet countenance that glowed around her.

With quick steps she crossed the small space and pulled me down with both hands on my shoulders to kiss both of my cheeks. "Stephanie! I am so pleased to meet you. We hoped you would arrive in time to join us. Please, sit down. It is time to eat." Her rosy cheeks were charming, but I couldn't tell if the blush was natural or a result of the stove's warmth.

We sat down to lunch a few minutes later. The soup was classic French onion, but it was so fragrant I thought I'd died and gone to food heaven. Even the cheese was so good it almost rivaled cake. Maybe. No, not really, but it was close.

I dug in, enjoying the food while my brain clicked through all the information I'd learned today. When my spoon hit empty bowl, I looked up and saw Jean Philippe and Elise observing me with concern. "I'm sorry. I think I lost myself for a while. It was delicious soup, Elise."

"Thank you. I am happy you liked it." She hesitated slightly and looked at Jean Philippe.

He took her hand in his and said, "Stephanie, you mentioned you found out you had been missing longer than you thought. I do not wish to pry, of course, but we are worried for you."

"Yes, the situation is much worse than I said. I found out some very disturbing things today and I'm not sure how to deal with them."

"Talk about it when you are ready, ma petite. Meanwhile, I thought you may want to go shopping. You will need some things, yes?" Elise asked. I nodded and tried to get up to help her when she started clearing the table, but she waved me off.

"Uh, yes. I need some things," I said. "Actually, I'd like to freshen up first. I feel like I've become part of the city streets."

Elise smiled. "Go, I will put supper in the oven and finish up here. We will leave when you're ready."

I got to my feet and looked at both of them. Gratitude was one of those emotions I felt obligated to share, but I didn't always feel comfortable showing others how much something they did meant to me. I shifted on my feet for a second and then said, "I don't know how I could ever repay your kindness to me."

Jean Philippe put up a hand. "Stop! You cannot repay something we have freely given." He pushed himself to his feet and rounded the table to grasp my shoulders. "You are in need and we can help. It is our gift to you." I tried to shake my head, but he gave me a stubborn look and I knew it would insult him if I tried to refuse.

"Okay," I agreed and looked at Elise, who had come to stand in the doorway. "Then thank you."

Both Jean Philippe and Elise looked pleased. I headed to the bathroom Jean Philippe had shown me on our brief tour. He'd pointed out the towels so I'd feel comfortable to use them anytime I wanted. I'd no sooner shut the door than I remembered something very important. In a rush, I went back to the dining room and nearly ran over Jean Philippe in my haste. "May I use your phone to make an International call? I need to call my boyfriend." How could I have forgotten to call Ranger?

"Of course," he said. "Please use our home and anything we have as if it were your own. You do not need to ask permission."

That would be difficult for me, but I appreciated the gesture. I wasn't sure if I could bring myself to be that bold, even if my host requested it. Still, I had a call to make and I wasn't going to delay that any longer. Ranger was probably ready to send out the troops. Literally.