Bold section from Chapter 16

Ram's POV

As we continued to watch Morelli pack, my cell phone buzzed. I had a text from Tank. Steph found alive and well at the Stark address. It looked like an all RangeMan alert, so I guessed it was a follow-up to let everyone know that she was OK.

I was glad to know that our guys had her. While I had been watching Morelli pack for the two of them, I had a knot in my stomach. I had been worried for her. Worried that we wouldn't find her in time. Worried that Morelli would be able to take her away and we'd never find her.

While I had been thinking about the text message, Joe had finished packing. He was now carrying the bags to his truck. He climbed in his truck, and Slick and I climbed into our SUV. We stayed several car lengths behind Joe, trying to be just another car on the road. We made turn after turn trying to guess where Joe was taking us. When he made the left onto Vine Street, we knew where he was headed. The apartment on Stark. I wonder what his reaction would be when Steph wasn't there?

Chapter 18

Ram's POV (cont'd)

As we pulled onto Stark, I turned to Slick. "I'll follow Morelli. You tag his car and activate the tracker. Call it in to Cal and make sure it's live before you follow me in."

Slick nodded.

Morelli parked in front of the apartment building and climbed out, headed in the front door. I drove further down the street and then doubled back, parking across the street from him. Slick grabbed the tracker and headed over to the truck. I watched him slide underneath it as I mounted the stairs.

I stood in the entryway of the building, listening for any sign of Morelli. There was a hallway in front of me, stairs leading up to the top two floors, and stairs leading down to the basement. I didn't have to wait long before I heard a roar coming from the hallway in front of me.

I crept down the hall and looked into the last apartment on the left. I could make out a shadow in the bedroom of the apartment, so I snuck through the door and into the living room area. I crouched behind the couch where I had a full view of the bedroom. Morelli was standing against the far wall of the room, looking into what appeared to be the closet. His hands were fisted by his side as he let out another inhuman howl. He struck out, punching the wall and then tore the closet door off the hinges. Once it was free, he launched it at the window, shattering the glass all over the stained and worn carpet. He picked up one end of the bed frame and flipped it, sending it cartwheeling into the wall. One leg was now lodged into the drywall. He pulled drawers out of the desk and threw them around the room, scattering trash and debris everywhere. With a final snarl and a "Damn it, Cupcake!" he pulled out his gun and emptied 6 rounds into the mattress that was propped against the bathroom wall.

I melted back into the shadows as Morelli stomped out of the room and into the hall. At this point, my orders were still just to follow, not apprehend. However, it was clear to see that his behavior was escalating. When Slick and I had talked with him earlier today, he had been irritated but under control. When he emptied his gun into the mattress after screaming his ridiculous pet name for Steph, he had been anything but under control. I knew that I needed to report the incident to Ranger and Cal, but first I needed to be sure that Slick had been able to place the tracker.

I glanced at my watch and sucked in a breath. Morelli and I had been in the building for a short amount of time. Around ten minutes. I was hoping that had been long enough for Slick to do what he needed to do. He hadn't joined me in the building, so I wasn't sure.

I peered out a front window and saw Morelli climb in his truck. I waited until he pulled away and then I jogged down the steps. Slick was already in the SUV, turning around to pick me up. I hopped in and nodded my appreciation that he was on the ball.

"You get it planted?" I asked.

He nodded to verify that the tracker was in place. "Yeah. Just barely. I still need to call Cal to verify that it's up and on-line. I had just stepped into the alley to make the call when I saw Morelli walk out, so I hopped into the SUV instead."

"Good idea." I nodded back. "Want me to get a hold of Cal?"

Slick nodded. "Yeah. The tracker's ID number is on the slip in the cup holder." He gestured to the console between us.

I pulled out my cell phone and hit the speed dial for the control room. When Binkie answered, I asked him to transfer me to Cal ASAP. In under a minute, I heard Cal's authoritative "Yo!" I had to admit that he did make a good boss when the Core Team was otherwise occupied.

"Cal. This is Ram. Slick placed a tracker on Morelli's truck. We've got a visual on him now, but we need to be sure that the bug is up and running. Can you check to see if this ID is transmitting?"

I could hear Cal clicking through the programs for the trackers. "Give me the ID." He commanded.

I picked up the slip of paper. "Alpha Tango 9 7 Foxtrot Charlie 3 5."

Cal clicked in the code. "Check. I'm showing the tracker right in front of your SUV. On Greendale, headed south towards the freeway. Correct?"

I pumped my fist. "Correct."

"I'll assign Morelli's name to that code and keep the tracker live. Do you have any updated orders regarding Morelli?"

"Negative. The last ones we got from Ranger were just to watch, not to subdue."

"Keep a visual. I'll keep the tracker up here."

"Roger that." I ended the call, flipping my cell and the ID code into the cup holder. "You did it." I told Slick. "The tracker is transmitting."

Slick grinned and nodded. I knew he was proud of himself. Hell, he should be proud of himself! He had gotten the tracker attached and transmitting in an insanely short window of time.

We continued to follow Morelli down Greendale and weren't surprised when he headed for the interstate. That was the only reason that most people took Greendale to begin with. We were two cars behind Morelli when we hit the on ramp, and then all hell broke loose. The car in front of us tried to merge onto the freeway. Unfortunately for him, there were cars in the way. A large blue panel van saw the car merging into him, but had nowhere to go. All three lanes were jammed full of traffic and traveling at speeds of about 75 miles per hour. The car kept inching over, waiting for the van to let them in. The driver of the van was gesturing frantically and blowing the horn, but the car kept going. I watched in horror as the car collided with the van, causing them both to spin out right in front of us.

Slick swore and slammed on the brakes, turning the wheel hard to the left. He just barely managed to avoid the crash, but now we were the ones trying to merge right into oncoming traffic. With a quick twist of the wheel, he maneuvered us around the accident and over to the right hand shoulder. I grabbed the medic bag that Bobby always kept stocked in the SUVs, and we ran over to the scene. All RangeMan employees were trained in basic first aid, and a few of us had received further training. I had just been recertified in basic first aid as well as industrial first aid, which includes how to treat severe trauma wounds.

I pulled open the door to the van, and the driver was moaning, laying over the steering wheel. The air bag had deployed, and it looked like the guy had gotten the wind knocked out of him. I motioned for Slick to check the car while I helped to ease the guy out of the van and onto the shoulder. He was clutching his chest, and I felt around gently, asking him to point to where it hurt. He moaned and pointed to a few spots on his upper chest. It looked like he had a few broken ribs, but nothing else.

I pulled out my phone and called 911, requesting two ambulances. I explained that the van driver was stable but most likely had a few broken ribs. The dispatcher asked how many passengers were in the second car, and I walked over to see for myself. I sucked in a breath. "Two teenagers. Looks like neither were wearing a seatbelt. They're banged up pretty good. Lots of blood. Most likely from head trauma."

Wounds on the face and head always looked worse than they were. They bled a lot. Once you finally got all of the blood cleared away, it was sometimes hard to believe that a little half inch long gash could cause what looked like gallons of blood at the scene.

"Are you trained in first aid, sir?" the dispatcher questioned.

"Yes, basic and industrial."

"Can you safely move the injured parties to the side of the road to avoid the possibility of further accidents, or are they hurt too badly?"

"The van driver has been moved. I haven't assessed the two girls yet. What's the ETA on the ambulances?"

"About ten minutes. If you can assess and provide first responder care, that would be ideal. Are you comfortable doing that, sir?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm going to give the phone to my partner while I assess the girls. He can relay their condition to you."

"Go ahead."

I handed Slick the phone and walked over to the car. The driver had several facial abrasions and was clutching her abdomen. Because she hadn't been restrained, the force of the crash had thrown her violently into the steering wheel. I signaled to Slick and he walked over, helping me to slide her out of the car and onto the side of the road. I pulled a water bottle and a towel out of the bag and cleaned the layer of blood off of her face.

"The driver has minimal facial trauma. Possible internal bleeding due to the steering wheel. She is clutching her abdomen, and it is painful to the touch. As of right now, she is first priority." Slick relayed the message back to the dispatcher and then walked around to help me remove the passenger.

The young girl also had several small facial wounds which were bleeding heavily, but she was clutching her leg and howling in pain.

"What happened to your leg?" I asked her, trying not to jar it as we moved her.

"I don't know. I saw the crash coming, and I knew I wasn't buckled in." she sobbed. "I put my foot up on the dash to try to brace myself."

I winced. A buddy of mine in high school had done almost the same thing, only he had tried to brace himself with his arms. The force of the impact had shattered two inches of bone in each of his arms. The x-rays weren't pretty. There were small sections of bone that had just disappeared. Disintegrated. The doctors had to put steel rods in each of his arms to replace the missing bone.

I looked over at Slick, and he nodded, ready to relay her condition. "She braced for impact with her right leg. The leg is most likely broken, possibly missing sections of bone due to the force of the crash. She also has minor facial wounds. The female driver is still top priority."

True to the dispatcher's word, the ambulances arrived a few minutes later. The EMTs loaded the female driver first, confirming that she most likely had internal bleeding. She was raced to the hospital. The male driver and the female passenger were both loaded into the same ambulance and headed to the hospital for x-rays. It wasn't preferable, but it was still better than forcing one of them to wait for another ride. Since neither had life threatening injuries, they were fine with sharing.

Slick and I gathered up our medical supplies and gave our statements to the officers on the scene. We hopped back into the SUV as the tow trucks arrived to remove the two ruined vehicles. I rolled my shoulders and sighed as I picked up my phone. It was a damn good thing the tracker on Morelli's truck was activated because we had sure as hell lost our visual on him.

I was about to call Cal for the location when my phone rang. Startled, I looked down at the display. Ranger. Shit.

"Yo!" I answered.

"Morelli's location." He barked.

I cleared my throat. "About that. We were tailing Morelli, but we lost our visual of him on the interstate." I heard a growl. Before I could explain or continue, Ranger interrupted.

"Would you like to explain to me how a pair of fucking security experts loses their mark on the interstate?"

"There was an accident directly in front of us. Slick had to do some fancy driving to avoid the accident, and then we provided first aid to the three victims. By the time we were done, Morelli was long gone."

I waited in silence while Ranger digested this explanation.

"You and Slick OK?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes, sir."

"The others OK?"

"It looks like they'll all survive, but they'll be in pretty rough shape for a while."

There was silence from the other end.

I cleared my throat. "Before we lost Morelli, Slick was able to place a tracker on his truck. We've lost our visual, but we do have access to his location. Cal verified earlier that the tracker was live and properly transmitting. I was just about to call him for the coordinates."

"Stand down and head back to RangeMan. You and Slick take a few hours to decompress, and then we'll set up a team to locate Morelli."

"Yes, sir."

Ranger ended the call, and I turned my phone off. I looked over at Slick. "Change of plans. Ranger has ordered us back to RangeMan. Says we need to decompress."

Slick snorted. We'd all been in battle zones before, and while it was true that right now we were running high on adrenaline, it wasn't as though we didn't know how to handle it. Still, an order was an order, so Slick got off at the next exit and headed back to Haywood. Hey, if Ranger wanted me to prop my feet up and have a beer, who was I to argue?

Ranger's POV

I ended the call with Ram and hit the control room speed dial. When Binkie answered, I barked "Cal. Now."

Stephanie raised her eyebrows at my tone, but I didn't care. While I understood Ram's situation, I was still pissed that we didn't have a current location on Morelli. I didn't like unknowns. And right now, that asshole was one big fucking unknown.

"Yo!" Cal answered.

"Morelli's current location." I ordered.

I could hear Cal clicking the keys to bring up the screen. "Shit!" he swore.

"Report!" I barked.

"He's in Pennsylvania, headed west on I-76."

"What the fuck is he doing in Pennsylvania?" I swore.

Cal sucked in a breath. "I don't know, sir, but I'll continue to monitor his location."

"You do that." I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the coffee table.

The rest of our group looked at me curiously. Lester was the first to speak, of course. "Did you say Morelli is in Pennsylvania?"

I gave a slight nod. "Headed west on I-76."

Stephanie bit her lip. "Is that the way you'd get to Montana from here?" she squeaked out.

I lifted one shoulder. "It's one way. Why?"

She chewed the inside of her cheek. "When he was driving me towards the apartment on Stark, he told me that he was going to take me to Montana. That a buddy of his had a cabin there, and that's where we were going. Maybe he's going without me?"

I cupped her face gently. "Any ideas on who the friend was?"

She shook her head. "He didn't name any names. Just said it was a friend's place."

The Chief spoke up. "I'll ask around. Someone here is bound to know. These guys gossip worse than a couple of old women."

I nodded and then pinned the Chief with a blank stare. "When you get a name, I want it. And I want authorization to bring Morelli in."

He lowered his head, shoulders slumped. "And are you actually planning on returning Detective Morelli to Trenton?"

I glared. "Of course."

"Alive?" he clarified.

I answered coolly. "That depends on how willingly the Detective comes with us."

The Chief let out a frustrated breath. "Fine! It's certainly not as though the Trenton PD has funds to fly out to Montana and get him anyhow. We'll negotiate a contract with RangeMan for his return."

I gave him a smile. "This one's on the house. It will be my pleasure to go after Detective Morelli."

R&S R&S R&S R&S R&S

Steph's POV

By the time we made it back to Haywood, the guys hadn't had a visual on Joe in over two hours. According to the tracker, he was halfway across Pennsylvania, headed towards Ohio. There was no way that they could drive after him and catch up. For every hour that they would be driving towards him, Joe would be driving further west.

A few guys had suggested flying a ways ahead and then trying to ambush him somehow, but that was quickly dismissed. We didn't know for sure that he was heading to Montana, so there was no way to confirm his route. We could fly ahead to Ohio and wait for him along I-80 only to find that he had gone in another direction.

Morelli had just crossed into Ohio when the Chief finally called with a name. Brian Yoman. Evidently he was a buddy of Joe's from the Navy, and they had kept in touch all of these years. Brian had offered Joe the use of his hunting cabin whenever he wanted it, and Joe had called in the favor. One of the guys at the station had remembered Joe talking about it a few years back. The name had stuck in his head because of Morelli's story. Brian had evidently been razzed mercilessly during boot camp because a yeoman (also pronounced yo-min) was a naval petty officer. The guys thought it was hilarious, teasing him that he had been destined from birth to join the Navy. They then took to calling him Yo, Man! Evidently, the guy had taken it all in stride and was well liked by their group. I just thanked my lucky stars that his name was something memorable.

I started running searches and compiling information on Brian while Carlos and the Core Team researched the area around his cabin. Evidently, it really was secluded. There was nothing around it for miles. Now that we knew Joe's destination, the guys decided that it would definitely be smarter to apprehend him at the cabin. It was in a quiet, out of the way spot. There would be no witnesses, no chance of other people being involved in any way. Our only other options were to try to catch him somewhere on the road and force him to pull over or try to catch him while he was already pulled over at a rest stop or restaurant. Both of those held the possibility for too much to go wrong.

Forcing him to pull over could lead to an accident hurting innocent people. And anytime you tried to apprehend someone in public, it was always a sticky situation. Bystanders who were infatuated with Dog the Bounty Hunter and wanted a chance to be him sometimes tried to "help" you. This most often led to someone getting accidentally maced. Either that, or they sympathized with the victim and tried to stop you from arresting them. Neither scenario was what we were looking for.

So by the time Joe was near Cleveland, the agreed upon plan was for a team of RangeMen to fly to Montana and drive to the cabin. They would wait there for Joe, subdue him, and fly him back to Trenton. The only issue now was who got to go and who had to stay behind. Of course everyone wanted to go, but Carlos insisted that the team needed to be a manageable size.

He wanted a member of the Core Team to stay behind. He and Tank were going; that was a given. It was decided that Bobby should go since he could treat any injuries Joe may receive during transport. That meant Lester had effectively drawn the short straw. I felt sorry for him until I learned that I was being left behind, too.

When Carlos read aloud the list of names- himself, Tank, Bobby, Cal, Ram, and Hal- I wanted to scream. Instead, I gave him a cold glare and walked out of the planning session and straight to the elevator. I fobbed myself up to 7 and threw my keys in the dish on the sideboard.

Damn it! Why didn't anyone ever take my feelings, thoughts, or opinions into account? I wanted to go! I deserved to go! This was my fight, not theirs! I had gotten myself worked up into quite an angry state when I heard the door to the apartment open.

I stalked out into the hallway to see Carlos in the foyer. He shut the door and walked over to me slowly. "Babe," he began in a soothing tone.

"No!" I snapped at him. "You don't get to just 'Babe' me and make this go away! What the hell, Ranger?"

His head snapped up when I called him Ranger. "No!" he growled, stalking towards me. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

I put my hands on his chest and gave a hard shove. "Well you're certainly not acting like my Carlos. You're acting like Ranger."

He grabbed my shoulders. "I'm trying to protect you, damn it!"

I tried to move out of his grip, but I was stuck. "Well maybe I don't want to be protected, Ranger! Did you ever think of that?"

He backed me against the breakfast bar. "Stop. Calling. Me. That." He ordered in a low tone. Shit!

"Stop trying to protect me." I hissed.

He glared at me and took a step towards me, now almost completely pressed up against me from head to toe. "I can't."

My heart rate sped up when he leaned down to capture my lips in a searing kiss. I moaned and pressed myself up against him before I remembered that I was supposed to be mad at him. I pulled back, panting. "Stop that!" I ordered him. "I'm mad at you!"

His eyes twinkled as he smirked at me. "Anger is a passionate emotion, Babe."

I smacked his arm. "I'm going with you."

The teasing look left his face. "Babe, please. Stay here."

I glared back. "Why?"

He lowered his head and took a deep breath. "You left before we went over Brain Yoman's history. He has a very questionable past. He's linked to several cases of assault, rape, and abuse. He has also been the prime suspect in several disappearance cases. The cabin is co-owned by Brian and several other guys. They all go up there frequently. There is some evidence to suggest that they may have killed a few women up there and hid the bodies in the woods. Unfortunately, no proof has ever been found. We have no idea what we're going to find when we get there. We don't know if any of these guys will show up while we're there. These are not nice men, Babe. I don't want you anywhere near them. Please. Stay here." Carlos cupped my face in his hands.

I took in a sharp breath and swallowed hard, nodding. "OK." I answered weakly. "I'll stay here."

His lips were on mine in an instant. "Thank you," he whispered, pulling back.

"When do you leave?" I asked, biting my lip.

"I have a couple of hours. We want to get there and check to see if anyone else is in the cabin. Once it's cleared, we need to scout the area and set up watch so that we know when Morelli gets there."

I nodded. "Stay with me until you leave?" I asked hesitantly.

He scooped me up in his arms and carried me into the bedroom. "I'd like nothing more, Babe." He answered huskily.

TBC