A/N: All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. I use them for fun and not profit.
Chapter 4
Applying mascara is like wallpapering. As long as the last coat is on good there is no sense in taking it off before adding another. At some point I'd have to strip everything down to ground zero, but today I was okay to add another layer to what remained from the night before. I attempted to run a brush through my curls and gave up. I scooped the whole mess off my face and fixed it with an elastic band. Bounty hunting was tiring work. I'd been up late and didn't sleep well. Seeing Joe had affected me more than I wanted to admit.
It wasn't that I wanted to rekindle anything with Morelli. It was more like seeing him made me realize I'd been coasting for the last few months. I remembered Lula's comment about not pining away for Tank and I made a sudden decision to jump back into life with both feet. I finished dressing and left the apartment in a hurry.
I made a quick stop by the Tasty Pastry. It was my turn to bring breakfast to the office. By the time I arrived both Connie and Lula were already hard at work. I handed the body receipt for Mooch to Connie. Her eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Wow, you must've had a busy night."
"Yeah," I said, "I was out late, but it was worth it. I took Mooch in without incident. You might get a call today to rebond him, but he's trying to avoid Joe and for right now thinks he might be the safest in jail."
"I hear Morelli is pretty upset with his cousin. Maybe Mooch has the right idea. If Morelli was peeved at me I'd choose to stay incarcerated." Connie said.
"I talked to Joe last night and he is upset," I said. "I talked to Mooch, too, and I think there's more to the Terry Gilman story than meets the eye. I'm not sure I want the whole story though."
Lula's head popped around a corner of files. "You talked to Officer Hottie last night?" Her eyes were wide and she stood still, waiting for details. "How'd that go? Girl, you'd best be givin' us the 411."
"It went fine. He's trying to get to the bottom of what's going on between Mooch and Terry. He's not happy that his cousin was stupid enough to get involved with her. I'm not sure what their present relationship is, but it makes Joe crazy when he sees her with Mooch."
I opened the sack of donuts and took out a Boston Crème before I passed the bag to Lula. "What are you doing here so early?" I asked. "I thought you had a big date last night. Did you wear the new nightgown?"
"Nah," Lula said popping a donut hole in her mouth. "Bunchy is kinda fun to hang out with, but I decided to take things slow. I don't want to get into a situation before I'm ready." Smart thinking, I thought. Maybe I should've thought more along those lines a few months ago.
Connie handed me a check for Mooch and I put it in my purse. "Do you have anything pending?" I asked Connie.
"No, nothing else has come in. Looks like you might have some time off."
"Great," I said. "I've got some personal stuff to do so you may not see me for a couple of days. Call if anything urgent comes in." I swung my ass out the door and hopped into my Cadillac, adjusting the pillow so I could see over the steering wheel. I'd take my check to the bank and then go home to take care of business I'd been putting off way too long.
I picked up the mail on my way into my apartment and threw it on the dining room table. An envelope slid to the floor and my attention was caught by the handwriting. The bold block letters were the same as I'd seen on my gifts of lingerie and there was no postage. I slit open the envelope to find a single white sheet. There was a full color image of a model wearing a black bustier and garter belt with stockings. A picture of my head had been amateurishly photo-shopped onto the model.
It was hard to tell when the photo had been taken. The quality was poor making my face look grainy. It must have been taken from a distance and magnified. This was starting to feel more than creepy. I quickly rummaged through the accumulated mail and found three more envelopes with the same handwriting. Opening them I found similar images of the other gifts of lingerie I'd received all with my head photo-shopped over the head of the model. I suspected I'd be getting another delivery. This time it would be the bustier and garter belt pictured. I was going to have to give this some serious attention. Although nothing had happened to me, I didn't think this was just a friendly gesture on someone's part. I had over a thousand dollars worth of lingerie in my dresser drawer and it looked like there was more to come.
Pushing the opened letters aside I looked at the rest of the unopened mail. My bank statement stared back up at me. The bank statement was the reason I'd been avoiding my mail so I might as well deal with it now and get it over with. I ripped the envelope open and looked at the balance. Another five thousand dollar deposit had been made on the first of the month bringing my account to over thirty-five thousand dollars. I knew the money was from Ranger. I'd made a vow not to touch it, but now I was thinking I might spend some of it. I needed to see an attorney and thanks to Ranger I could afford a good one.
I made the call and I was informed I could be seen at any time. They would make sure someone was available to me. I hadn't seen or talked to Ranger in over seven months, but I was thinking my actions today might change that. It was something I had to do and I might as well spit in the devil's face by using the RangeMan attorney.
I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I thought this might be the time to get out the makeup remover and start all over with the mascara. I wanted to look cool, calm and professional, and less raccoon-like. I meant to be taken seriously and I was going to prepare for the part.
An hour later I left my apartment wearing a blue suit with a white blouse. My hair was bouncing around my shoulders in as controlled a fashion as I could get it. My legs looked their best in blue and white spectator pumps. As I rounded the corner to the parking lot I looked at my tan Cadillac. So much for the professional image. Well, I could park down the block and walk. It was cold out, but the sun was shining and my mood was starting to lift despite what I was getting ready to do.
When I returned to my apartment a few hours later I was exhausted. It was hard to be among people I didn't know and play the role of a calm, unemotional woman. I was anything but calm. I loved Ranger, but he'd made it clear to me there was no room for me in his life. I'd just taken my first permanent step toward a life without Ricardo Carlos Mañoso, and while I felt proud about my initiative, it was a somber moment.
I walked into my bedroom, kicking my pumps off and shrugging off my suit jacket. I turned to toss it on to my bed and froze at the sight of a grey shopping bag on my bed. In the lower right hand corner the words La Perla gave indication that my next gift had arrived. I lifted the bag and peered inside. I pulled the black lace and silk from the bag and recognized the bustier and garter belt I'd seen in the photograph. My admirer had raised the stakes. This gift was left inside the apartment instead of leaning against the door and that wasn't good. The little hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
I reached into my pocketbook and grabbed my phone. I had to call for help. I had to get out of my apartment. I turned and ran, shoeless and jacketless out of my apartment and down the stairs. I stopped in the lobby and flipped my phone open only to realize there was no one to call. Morelli was no longer in my calling circle and neither was Ranger. I could call Tank. I'd been told by Ranger before he walked out of my life that someone from RangeMan would always be available to me if I needed help. It was cold outside, but hell hadn't frozen over, I thought somewhat wryly. Slowly it dawned on me that I was truly on my own.
I shut my phone and pulled my gun from my purse. There was one bullet in the chamber. I turned and found my way back up the stairs to my apartment. I entered quietly with my gun in hand. I quickly and thoroughly checked the apartment as I'd seen Ranger or one of his men do many times before. When I was sure I was alone I locked the door and took a few deep calming breaths.
Going back to the bedroom I examined the bustier and garter belt. They were exquisite. I folded them and placed them back in the bag. The stalker was escalating his game and I didn't think that was a good sign.
I needed some distance from my apartment and I was tired of my own company. I called my mom.
"Hi, I need a favor," I lied. "The heat is off in my apartment and Dillon won't be able to fix it until tomorrow. Can I spend the night there?"
"Well, of course," my mom said, "and come for supper. I have a nice pork tenderloin. Your grandmother is having a guest for dinner. You could meet him."
Meeting my grandmother's latest paramour ranked right up there with getting a tooth filled without Novocain. It was an indication of how badly I needed company that I agreed at once. I grabbed some clothes for the next day and headed out the door. A few minutes later, I parked the Cadillac at the curb and looked toward my parents' house. Grandma Mazur stood at the door waiting for me.
"You look nice," I said as I crossed the threshold into a warm room with wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen. Grandma's hair shades varied with the whim of her stylist. Today the color as well as the style resembled a Brillo pad. The tightly coiled coif was the color of blue steel, but, oddly, it was attractive on her.
"What do you think of my lipstick?" she asked, twisting her hands nervously. "It's called 'Orgasm'." Her lips were carefully outlined and filled in with a dark rose color. "I got an extra tube so if it lives up to its name you can use it since you don't have a boyfriend."
"Your lipstick is great," I said. "This must be a special guy. You're all dolled up for him."
"He's a pip." Grandma went back to the door and glanced down the street. I knew her Burg sense was telling her the arrival of her beau was imminent. My gaze followed hers out the door and I saw a black Mercedes pull up to the curb and stop behind my Cadillac. My heart skipped a beat as I immediately thought-Ranger! The driver's door opened and a tall, thin man with erect posture and a full head of snowy-white hair emerged. As Grandma's excitement grew my heart rate started the descent to its normal rate. Of course it wasn't Ranger. What was I thinking? He was, however, very attractive and looked to be of Hispanic origin.
He walked up the sidewalk and waited as my grandma opened the screen door for him. He reached out and raised her hand to his lips. "Edna, you look charming." Grandma blushed!
"Stephanie, I'd like you to meet my friend, Osbaldo Santos-Ayres." Grandma turned to Mr. Santos-Ayres and said, "This is my granddaughter Stephanie Plum. You may have heard of her. She's a world famous bounty hunter."
"Stephanie, it's so nice to meet you." He clicked his heels together and bent forward slightly in an old-fashioned gesture. Taking my hand in his he raised it to his lips in the manner he had with Grandma's hand. I blushed. He was charming.
My mother and father entered the room and introductions were made all around. My mother's hand received the same treatment and I could tell she was as impressed as I'd been. Dinner conversation was lively. Osbaldo, as he asked us to call him, was new to the area. Grandma regaled him with tales of my experiences in bounty hunting as well as other Burg urban legends.
"I plan to spend my remaining years in this area," Osbaldo said. "I have family in the area. Right now I'm living with my grandson. It is a temporary situation and I need to find other quarters soon."
"I could help you with that," Grandma said. "I know quite a few people around here. I'll put the word out and see what's available."
"I'd appreciate that, Edna. As I said, I'm living with my grandson and he has just a small one-bedroom apartment. He is a security specialist. He actually lives in the building where he works."
My spidey senses started to hum. "Osbaldo, does your grandson by any chance work for RangeMan?" I asked.
He looked surprised. "Yes, he does."
"Your grandson works for Ranger?" Grandma asked her eyes wide. "Ranger is Stephanie's friend and sometimes he helps her bring in her FTAs." Not lately, I thought but refrained from saying so.
Osbaldo's surprise grew. "What a small world," he said looking at Grandma. "When I met you at St. Michael's senior's group I had no idea we'd be so…connected." He smiled at Grandma and I felt my face stretch into a huge grin. I couldn't help it. Osbaldo was Lester Santos' grandfather. Grandma had finally got herself a Merry Man, albeit a couple of generations removed. I hoped her lipstick lived up to its name and for once I was interested to hear about her new friend's package. I couldn't wait to tell Lula and Connie.