Chapter 2

"You just happened to be in the neighborhood?" I asked Ranger. I walked toward him with a slight limp. I had a feeling our run in was made possible by a tracker he'd installed in my car (without my permission).

"I stopped by Vinny's," Ranger told me. "He wanted me to find this guy."

"You mean, help me find this guy. Right?" I asked.

"No," Ranger said, making me pout. "He really has no faith in you."

"Super," I replied. "You really think it wise to leave him in the driver's seat?" I asked, attempting to get a jab in if I could. Ranger was far too perfect. He had to be susceptible to human flaw. He just had to be.

"Babe, really?" Ranger asked. He dangled keys in front of my face.

"…Just checking…" I said awkwardly.

"Should we take him in your car or mine?" he asked.

"I came with Lula," I told him.

"Then we'll take my car."

"Sounds good."

"Hey," Lula said coming up behind us. She was carrying a pizza.

"You bought another one?" I asked.

'Hell no, this is Tommy's," Lula replied.

"Did they put the extra onions on it?" we could hear Tommy ask from the car.

"I don't know," Lula said. "I'll tell you later."

Tommy wasn't going to get to eat that pizza. There was no way. Lula went home, and I went with Ranger and Tommy in the truck.

"When are you going to let me borrow this one again?" I asked Ranger about his truck.

"Again?" Ranger asked. "You've never borrowed this one."

"I haven't?" I asked. "I was pretty sure I had."

"You borrowed its father," Ranger corrected. "It exploded a couple months ago."

"Why'd I even ask," I said rolling my eyes. It had been a long time since I had found exploding cars amusing.

"I've got a better question," Ranger asked.

"What?"

"When are you going to let me borrow you again?" Ranger asked.

"For a job?" I asked. I saw his signature grin.

"Not a job, per say. But I'm sure it's right up your alley."

"Not interested," I told him.

"No?" Ranger asked. "I can't imagine you've grown tired of me yet."

"You're a cocky son of a bitch aren't you?" I laughed.

"Are you back with Morelli?" Ranger asked.

"Not interested," I repeated.

"Right, sure," Ranger chuckled.

"We're on a break, my choice."

"These breaks of yours often include rendezvous under the sheets," Ranger commented.

"That happens rarely."

"I think it would take more than two hands to count."

"Jeeze, make out already!" Tommy growled. "The tension in here is ridiculous." We both looked back at him. I chose to not continue any conversation about this. But I knew Ranger wasn't done thinking about it.

"We got Galasnick," I told Vinny when I saw him at the police station.

"Really, and I thought you'd called me down here for a date," Vinny said sarcastically.

"Uh, ew," I commented. "We didn't have to use Facebook, he was at Pino's."

"Facebook?" Vinny asked.

"Mybook," I clarified. He got it then. "I still made an account, but now I guess I can delete it."

"Why?" he asked.

"Well, it's not like I'm going to use it," I explained.

"Of course you are going to use it!" Vinny argued. "It's your ticket to find these guys!"

"Didn't you hear me say I didn't need Facebook to find Tommy?" I asked.

"Luck," Vinny stated. "Keep that account." And then he left.

"Ass," I stated.

"Yes, you have a nice one," someone said from behind me. It was Morelli.

"Oh, looky here, another ass," I said. "An ass-face!" I chuckled at my joke. Morelli raised his eyebrow and then shook his head.

"That sounded far more mature in your head than it did out loud didn't it?" he asked.

"Yeah, but whatever," I said. "It's true."

"Well, I'd like to go back to talking about your ass," he said. He got close to me and rested his hand on my lower back, with his fingers hovering over my butt. "I'd like to get up close and personal with it tonight. You free?"

I would have argued with him about how a break is a break. But we never got anywhere with those fights. We either just stormed off angry, or we ended up sleeping together. That was the way things worked with us. I chose a middle ground.

"I've got dinner with the folks tonight, and then I'm going to learn more about Facebook."

"Face what?" he asked. I explained to him Vinny's new idea. "That sounds stupid."

"He wants me to give it a shot, so I will."

"Half my buddies are addicted to that thing," Morelli told me. "The only good thing about it is that they now cheat on their wives less."

"Facebook can do that?" I asked.

"Apparently the games are addicting."

"Who would've thought?" I remarked. We left each other then. I headed for my parents' house; suddenly wishing I'd taken him up on his offer.

"You're late!" my mother scolded me when she met me on her porch.

"I told you not to wait for me," I reminded her.

'That would be rude," she told me. "How can I teach you anything if I act like a hypocrite?"

"I don't know," I said, pretending I had no answer for her.

"Well, come in," she told me. "There's someone I'd like you to meet." I came inside and saw the usual crowd, with one exception. Sitting next to Kloughn, was a man. He was easy on the eyes. But his appeal was slightly obstructed by glasses.

"Stephanie, this is Adam," my mother introduced us. "He just moved here."

It was a set up. My mother was once again trying to find me a match. She had been the most insistent about me finding someone. I knew she hadn't given up about me marrying Morelli, but she still had back ups.

I sat down to dinner, and the usual pattern that these dinners had unfolded. The girls were hyper, the baby fussy. My sister managed to look pitiful and resilient at the same time. And Kloughn was having difficulties developing conversations. My father sat at the end of the table, just concerned with his dinner. I always admired that about him. And my mother looked like she was talking to God, begging him to have this dinner not go to hell. And I just tried to be cool. Someone had to be.

"I'm a journalist," Adam told me.

"Oh, yes," my mother said, jumping in. I knew she'd planned to advertise him like Vanna White. "He works for the Trenton Times."

"What do you write?" I asked. I was being nice; I knew my mother would kill me if I didn't act polite.

"Sports," Adam replied.

"Isn't that interesting, Stephanie?" my mother asked.

"You bet," I replied. My mother gave me an exasperated look. She then gave an apologetic look to Adam. Clearly I was being rude. Adam just chuckled. Unlike the other set ups my mother had attempted, Adam didn't seem like a loser. He probably had the potential to be a real winner. He was the kind of guy who didn't need a set up; he could find his own date. But he was doomed. My mom had landed.