A/N: All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. I use them for fun and not profit.

Chapter 5

I awoke to the sounds of my grandma and my father arguing. There was only one bathroom in the Plum household and they were both intent on being the first one in. I got out of bed quickly and opened the door to see the two of them at the end of the hallway. My old pink robe flapped in the air behind me as I made a beeline between them mumbling, "Excuse me," and slid into the bathroom, slamming the door in their faces. I did a fist pump and mentally shouted 'Score!' With my business taken care of, I opened the door to find the hallway empty and sprinted back to my room before all heck broke loose again.

I jumped back in bed pulling the covers up under my chin. My room was virtually unchanged since high school and there was comfort in the dated but familiar surroundings. Spread eagled in my thinking position, my mind returned to the problem of my stalker. Maybe I had over-reacted. There had been no threat to me and the lingerie was truly beautiful. I couldn't bring myself to wear it though.

Dealing with the stalker on my own would be a change for me. As much as I like to consider myself strong and sensible, life had a way of screwing up my plans. My catch phrase of "it wasn't my fault" was usually true. When disaster struck it was nice to have someone come in and sweep me away from danger, but that wasn't the only reason I missed Ranger.

I wished he were still in my life, but I knew why he was missing. He was off dealing with feelings of guilt. He wasn't to blame for what had happened, but there was no way to convince him. Some might think he was a coward and had simply run away, but I knew that wasn't so. He was doing his best to be fair to me. I had known he operated by his own code of ethics and he had apparently crossed a line that existed only for him. It was his problem though and I couldn't fix it. He'd always been honest so it wasn't really his fault if I didn't listen.

How many times had I heard the talk? He was an opportunist. He didn't do relationships. He had been my amazing lover on two separate occasions now. The first time I was unsettled for months when I realized it'd just been sex for him. Why did I think the second time would be any different? Because he loved me, that's why! I knew without a doubt I was important to him. Leave it to Ranger to compartmentalize his life so effectively that he could separate a sexual act with me from his feelings for me. He told me once he wasn't entirely sane and I had no choice now but to believe him.

So no matter how much it hurt I knew I'd done the right thing yesterday. Hopefully he would think it was the right thing as well. The burning question was did I take my stalker problem to RangeMan? I knew he'd want me to, and I knew Tank would help me because Ranger would tell him to. Ignoring the problem for the moment, I got dressed and went home to get ready to face the day. Telling Connie and Lula all about Osbaldo was going to be fun.

Mrs. Bestler was on elevator duty early that morning. As I got off to head for my apartment she called after me, "Stephanie, dear, did you get your present yesterday?"

I stopped in my tracks and turned heading back toward the elevator. I jumped through the closing doors and turned to her, "What present?"

"Well, the one that was delivered for you yesterday. She left it in your apartment." In spite of her present occupation I wasn't sure Mrs. Bestler's personal elevator went all the way to the top floor.

"Yes, I got it," I said, "but there was no card with the gift. I don't know who brought it."

Mrs. Bestler pushed the button for the basement. As the door slid open she announced, "Basement, ladies' bargain dresses and lingerie." Goosebumps broke out on my arms as I stepped out and went to knock on the super's door.

Dillon opened the door. "Hi Steph, I was just on my way up to see you."

"Dillon, did you let someone into my apartment yesterday?" I asked.

"Nah," he said. "Not me. I was doing some touch up painting in the hall when the door to your apartment opened and a woman walked out. I asked her who she was and she said she was your cousin. She said she had a birthday gift for you and since you weren't home Mrs. Bestler let her in. I didn't know Mrs. Bestler had a key."

"I gave her one for emergencies," I said, "but obviously she and I have different ideas about what constitutes an emergency. The thing is, it's not my birthday, and I'm willing to bet that woman wasn't my cousin. What did she look like?"

"Well," he thought for a moment. "I think she looked kinda familiar. That's why I thought she was your cousin. About your age and blonde. Slender with huge, uh with a big…chest." Great, I thought. That described half the women in Trenton. "Maybe Mrs. Bestler knows her," he continued.

"I'll ask her," I said. "What would it cost to get a new deadbolt lock installed?"

He smiled at me. "A six-pack."

I shook his hand, "Deal." That way I wouldn't have to upset Mrs. Bestler by asking for my key back. Knowing Mrs. Bestler she'd probably just given my key to my visitor. I pushed the elevator button and waited. When the door slid open I hopped in and requested the second floor.

"Mrs. Bestler, did you know my visitor yesterday?" I asked.

"Yes, dear, it was your cousin. She had a birthday gift for you." The door slid open. "Second floor mezzanine, ladies' casual wear and lingerie." Again the goose bumps appeared. I got off the elevator and went to my apartment door. My gun was in my purse and still loaded. I pulled it out and held it loosely at my side as I entered my apartment and made a quick search. Everything was as I had left it so I locked myself in and headed for the shower.

I stood under the hot spray until I was sufficiently wrinkled. I made short work of my hair and makeup and dressed in my usual outfit of jeans and a t-shirt adding an old flannel shirt of Joe's over the t-shirt in deference to the cold weather.

I took a look at the La Perla bag sitting beside my dresser. I pulled out all my lingerie gifts and then I laid the photo-shopped pictures next to them. The same picture of my face had been used in all the photographs. The rest of the images looked like catalog photos. The blonde woman with the 'big chest' who'd delivered the last installment was a surprise. I had assumed my stalker was male. This put a new twist on things. I put all of the lingerie into the La Perla sack and slipped the envelopes containing the pictures in as well. I left for the bonds office and tried to put the whole mess out of my mind.

Lula and Connie were eating breakfast sandwiches. "The ahn da saf fo ooh," Lula said without breaking her chewing rhythm.

I went to Connie's desk and pulled out a paper-wrapped stack of egg, sausage, cheese and grease, closeted between halves of a stale biscuit. I longingly thought of the time when I stayed on seven. Ella brought up fresh fruit, whole grain toast and egg white omelets every morning. Looking at the breakfast sandwich in my hand I considered whether 'the body is a temple' thing might have some credibility after all.

"Hey Steph," Connie said wiggling her eyebrows. "I hope you don't have plans tonight because you'll never guess who's in town—The Hose Brigade! They're at the Whiplash Bar for one night only."

"The Hose Brigade?"

"Yeah," Lula said. "It's a group of firefighters from all over America. They dance for charity. You can make a donation by putting money in their underwear. Connie got us reservations with a table right up front."

"I don't know," I said. "I think I might be busy."

"No way, Stephanie!" Connie got up from behind her desk and walked over to me. She put her hands on my shoulders and said, "The last time there were dancing men in town you were still seeing Morelli and you said it would upset him if you went. Now you're not seeing anyone. This will be the closest thing you've had to a date in months." I couldn't respond. She was right. I rolled my eyes so far back in my head I lost my balance.

"All right!" I capitulated. "But I'm not driving my POS Cadillac down there and I'm not sure if either of you will be in shape to drive home."

"It's okay," Lula said. "I bet I can talk Bunchy into seeing us home. He's smart enough to realize the advantage of taking women home who've spent the night watching dancin' firemen."

"Speak for yourself," Connie said. "And Steph, the table I reserved seats four. You should ask your grandma. You know how she loves this stuff." I rolled my eyes again.

The day was uneventful. I went back to my apartment building in late afternoon. Mrs. Bestler must have had the day off because the elevator was empty. I pushed the B button and made the quick descent to Dillon's apartment. Dillon answered my knock and smiled as he saw the six-pack in my hand. He took it from me and went to his refrigerator, where he removed two bottles and put the rest inside.

"I got your new lock installed," he said, handing me a bottle of beer and a shiny new key. "And as far as I know, no one came to see you today."

"Thanks," I said, taking a big swig from the bottle. We chatted amicably about the goings-on in my building for awhile before I headed upstairs to get myself ready for the big night at the Whiplash Bar. It wasn't easy deciding what to wear. I was going to be in a bar filled with drunken, outrageous Jersey girls. I had to look good, but not so good I'd get noticed by the Hose Brigade. The last thing I wanted was to be pulled up on stage for a firefighter's version of a lap dance.

As I entered my bedroom I once again saw the La Perla bag and I was tempted to take a closer look at the lingerie. I had plenty of nice lingerie of my own so I resisted the urge to wear my anonymous gifts. I went to my dresser and pulled out a matching wonder bra and thong in midnight blue. Then I settled on my favorite pair of jeans and a tight black t-shirt that clung to all my curves. The scoop neck hinted at my cleavage. I wore high-heeled black boots and three coats of mascara. I looked good.

I called my best friend from high school, Mary Lou Stankovic.

"Hey," I said. "How about a girl's night out? Connie's got a table reserved to see the Hose Brigade."

"That sounds great. I'd love to, but I've got sick kids. There's no way I could get away for the entire night. I've heard they're great. They're real firemen from all over America and they have their hometowns written on their g-strings. I hear Mr. Poughkeepsie is impressive."

An hour later I found myself sitting at a table in front of the stage. I was alternately hopeful and concerned Mr. Poughkeepsie would be making an appearance. There was the muffled sound of raised voices and I looked up to see Lula exchanging words with the bartender. She was wearing a bright pink spandex mini-dress. It was strapless and skintight. Her stiletto heels matched the dress, as did her hair. She looked good in a way only Lula could. She flounced her way across the bar and plopped down across from me.

"That bartender won't give me change. I don't have enough dollar bills to make it through the night, and where's Connie? I thought she'd be here by now."

"She's in the ladies' room," I said. "She was worried that you weren't here yet."

"I had Bunchy drop me off. He's gonna come back and drive us all home when I call him." Connie joined us at the table bringing a round of drinks with her. I had a very low alcohol tolerance so I planned on sipping slowly all night long.

"Look over at the door," Connie said. "RangeMan is doing extra security here tonight." Lula and I turned our heads to see Lester and Tank standing by the door. The look on Tank's face was easy to read. He'd rather be anywhere than in the Whiplash Bar with a group of soon-to-be out of control women. Lester, on the other hand looked as if he couldn't wait for the women to be out of control. He caught my eye and gave me a small head nod. I returned a little finger wave to him. Lester was very good looking. All of the Merry Men were, but none of them had the commanding presence of Ranger. I felt a small twinge of loneliness at the thought of Ranger, which I determinedly tamped down. I saw Tank cast a glance toward Lula who was pointedly ignoring him. I wondered how long this new relationship with Bunchy would last.

"Where's your granny?" Lula asked.

"She couldn't be here tonight. She has a hot date with her new beau, Osbaldo."

"Osbaldo?" Lula and Connie coursed together.

"Yes," I said. "And according to Grandma, he's a pip. He lives with his grandson and you'll never guess who his grandson is." I let my eyes settle on Lester. Connie and Lula followed my gaze.

"No!" Lula said.

"Yes, and it's easy to see where Lester gets his charm. Osbaldo is hot—in a senior citizen sort of way. He's living in the RangeMan building with Lester. Grandma Mazur finally has herself a Merry Man!" The lights suddenly dimmed and music started playing loudly, the base so strong it rattled my chest. All conversation ended. As the curtain rose on nine men dressed in transparent firemen's coats, all thoughts of sipping my drink ended and I picked up the glass for a big gulp.

They danced for an hour before taking a break. Lester and Tank got a workout keeping women from crawling on the stage and touching the dancers. I emptied my glass and then a second one that was placed before me. When the dancers left the stage for intermission I realized my tongue was numb. Lula had exhausted her supply of one-dollar bills and was counting her fives to see if she had enough for the second half of the show.

"You're spending a lot of money, Lula," I said.

"It's tax deductible. It's for charity," she replied. "You should be contributing Stephanie. I saw Mr. Reno looking at you. Have you noticed the longer the name of the town they're from, the more real estate their g-strings seem to cover."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Connie said, "and I saw Mr. Reno checking Stephanie out too, but if I was going to go for one of them I think I'd try Mr. Sacramento…if you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean," I said realizing my tongue wasn't the only part of me that was numb. My hand was having trouble grasping the tequila shot that had mysteriously been placed on the table. "I'm disappointed that Mr. Poughkeepsie didn't show," I said, "but it's been so long since I've been on a…uh had a…date… at this point Mr. L.A. is looking good to me."

"What happened with you and Morelli?" Lula asked. "And what happened with you and Ranger? You either got feast or famine." Connie and Lula leaned forward waiting for my answer.

I threw the tequila shot down my throat, the burn bringing tears to my eyes. "What happened is, I had a fight with Morelli, slept with Ranger and Joe walked in on us. It pretty much ended everything with Joe right then and there." There was silence for a moment, both women digesting what I'd said. Normally I didn't say anything. They were shocked I was volunteering information at all.

"You slept with Batman?" Lula asked.

"You did it with Ranger while Joe watched?" Connie asked.

"Yeah, no! Joe didn't watch. Joe came in and saw us in the 'afterglow' phase, I think. I'm not really sure when Joe came in, but he didn't stay long. The next day Ranger went into the wind and was gone for two months. And when he came home he moved his base of operations to Boston. I think he was afraid I'd want a relationship, so he left." It was partly true.

"No, he didn't," Lula said. "I seen him plenty at RangeMan this year. Tank said he's been spending some time in Boston, but he still lives at Haywood." It was my turn to sit with my mouth hanging open in stunned silence. I thought we'd had all the mind-numbing revelations we could handle that night. I was wrong. There was one more, big piece of information to come out. I saw Bunchy approaching the table and I saw Tank following him.