Chapter 14
The moment Joe's car left with Ranger, the police let me pass. Tank was standing near the door waiting for me. I saw a few cops I knew standing around, but most of the activity was happening with people who looked more like federal agents then city cops. Most were on cell phones, but some were using the elevator to move through the building. I saw one man hand Tank a form on a clip board. Tank walked away from him, coming up to me.
"This is unbelievable. Let's get up to the third floor; you have to see this for yourself."
RangeMan was under siege. The third floor of the building is Rangeman operations. It is a calm working environment that felt like Karma and Feng Shui got together and had babies. Everything was always calm and peaceful. Now, it looked more like they had gotten a divorce. Along with detectives and police invading Rangeman, there was about twelve men and women sporting FBI logo jackets swarming the third floor as well. They were busy taking apart computer systems, going through files, and moving through Ranger's office with the efficiency of an elephant. I wondered just how legal this was.
Tank brought me into a room walled in glass. It was sound proof. From this location you were able to see most of the third floor. An oak table dominated the room. Most of the confidential meetings for Rangeman Inc. took place here. Tank stood at the glass looking out at the destruction in front of him.
"Stephanie, this came to our door two hours ago." He gestured into the outer room. "They have warrants to search the entire building. They also have warrants to search all our locations. He folded his arms across his chest. He was angry.
I watched with him, not believing what was in front of me. This morning everything was great. Now it appeared Rangeman would be no more if someone didn't stop this. I needed to find out what was happening. He needed to throw me a bone. I was completely in the dark.
"Tell me what happened. I have no idea what the hell is going on."
He didn't turn from the window. "Jeanne Ellen Burrows is dead."
"Oh, Shit."
"At 5 am this morning, Les Sebring called 911. He went over to Jeanne Ellen's apartment to find out why she hadn't shown up for work. She wasn't answering her phone. The door was slightly ajar, so he went in. He found her in the bedroom. She was naked, and very dead. Someone shot her between the eyes."
The conversation Ranger had with me came flooding back;"I went in, she was naked." He had said.
My heart felt as if it slithered down my body and fell on the floor. Jeanne Ellen was dead. This had to be a joke. Ranger was there that night. Fuck. Jeanne deserved to go to jail for what she had done years before, but dead? She may have been a bitch whore, but why would..? Doubt hit me like a ton of bricks. Ranger. He was angry with her. I had brought up his past, making him face something that had bothered him. She wouldn't leave him alone. I just shook my head, No. I pushed the doubt away.
"They found Ranger's fingerprints, and they have Jeanne's surveillance tapes with him on it. They also have the murder weapon. The gun from your Jeep. It has his fingerprints all over it. They have the police report that we filed against her for breaking into Rangeman. They know there were problems between Ranger and Jeanne. They have the murder weapon, and they have placed him at the scene. He held up his fingers, counting them off. Means. Motive. Opportunity. The police and the FBI believe they have plenty of evidence. A judge signed the warrant. He signed just about everything they gave him. Judge Conner was quite fond of Jeanne Ellen for the work she had done with the child custody bonds. It is also why we were not warned. Judge Conner was one of our contacts. The police came here, unannounced.
Tank looked at me. "When Joe told Ranger he was being arrested for her murder, he surrendered. He didn't do anything to protect himself. He didn't even call his lawyers."
All the air went out of my sails, and I sat down hard on the floor.
"Did anyone call his lawyer, Tank?"
He nodded. "They should be here at any moment. We need someone to stop the chaos out there."
We both looked out at the mess in front of us. I put my head down and clicked my shoes together. I wanted to be Dorothy. I wanted this to all go away.
I started replaying the night in my head. Starting when Jeanne stole my Jeep, and Ranger calling me. He was concerned and wanted things to stop happening with Jeanne once and for all. At the apartment, he said he had given her an ultimatum. Leave him alone, or else. He wasn't angry, just disappointed that he needed to spell things out. After he told me what happened, He was elated. Happy he had finally told her off. I touched the necklace around my neck. I held onto it.
"He wouldn't have done that, Tank. He wouldn't have killed her. Ranger is not like that. Plus, he is not that stupid. He would never have left fingerprints, or surveillance tapes for anyone to find. He couldn't have killed her, he loved her." I was determined to think only the best things about Ranger. I didn't think that he could do something that horrible, and then go out and buy me a present. If he could, geez. I didn't even want to think about that one.
Tank looked at me for a moment. "Do you know anything about who Ranger is, Stephanie? I mean, really?"
I didn't like the way he said that. Couldn't he have just agreed with me? Then we could move on. I wanted to keep my mind focused on innocent Ranger, not guilty Ranger.
"I don't think Trenton police really understand who Ranger is either." Tank shrugged. "Or maybe they do. There was a lot of fire power out there tonight."
I shifted around uncomfortably in my seat. I didn't want to think bad thoughts about the man I was falling in love with, but at the same time, I needed to know what I was getting into.
"Carlos Manoso is a mercenary, Stephanie. A hired fixer. He is as close to a hit man as you can get on a government level. He fixes all kinds of problems. They can be any number of things. Government organizations use his skills for different reasons. Small operations, things you won't hear about on the news. He does things that the goverment will never admit to. He takes people out that need to be dealt with, and he can negotiate with terrorists in a way they understand. We have all done things that make us heroes, we have also done things that make us monsters. What ever mission we take, we always felt we were doing the right thing. To do these things, You have to be a professional killer, or you would not survive. He is. We all are. He is good at it. Really good at it. If Jeanne Ellen needed fixing, he would have taken her out. It might not have even bothered him."
Tank cocked his head for a moment. "It probably would have bothered him. They had a lot of history." He looked at me for a moment. "You are right about one thing though. If he was there to fix something, no one would have known he was there. He doesn't work that way. He is smoke. Someone else fixed a problem that night and Ranger was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He freaked me out with his little speech. I always knew there were parts of Ranger that were dark. It was all out in the open now. I was falling head over heels for a hired killer. Great. What more can a girl want? Deep down, I always knew Ranger's missions were rough. When you have to stay halfway across the country to recuperate, it must be pretty bad. I may not know a lot about him, but I still couldn't believe that he would kill her. I wasn't ready to give up on him. I believed he didn't do it. I needed to focus on proving he was innocent.
"Who told Ranger that Jeanne was dead?" I asked.
"Joe did. He was first on the scene that morning. He doesn't know if they will let him work the case because he knows so many of the players in this opera. Plus, it looks like the FBI has some interest with this case. They may take it over.
Tank observed the activities on the floor. He watched as strangers rummaged through their lives work.
"Ranger came down from the third floor. The police couldn't get past our security guard. When he got down there; they put him in cuffs immediately. They said he was under arrest for the murder of Jeanne Ellen Burrows. Ranger just put his head down. I was there with him, and I called his attorney. Police have been here ever since."
Rangeman was a project they put their heart and soul into. It could easily be over because of this. If Ranger didn't kill her, someone was trying hard to make it look like he did.
Tank watched someone drop one of the laptops on the floor. "I want that lawyer here now. We can't let the business slide because of this. RangeMan is too important to all of us. We need to figure out who did this. Not only for Ranger, but also for Jeanne."
Tank's phone buzzed. He listened for a moment, and then closed it.
"Ranger's attorney is here."
I wasn't all that surprised that Ranger's attorney turned out to be a woman. Very statuesque, and very beautiful. She had dark brown hair and piercing brown eyes. She was in her early 30's. She looked like she had never had a bad hair day in her life. She held herself in a professional way. She was also very concerned about her client. A little overly concerned, is what I would call it. I was instantly on edge.
She introduced herself as Miss Angelica Rodriguez. She rolled her name out to accent its Latin heritage. Her assistant's name was Keith Douglas. Tank and I sat across from her and her assistant while she went over what they knew so far. She opened up a file and read to us what she had.
"Ricardo Carlos Manoso was arrested for the murder of Jeanne Ellen Burrows in lieu of evidence they have collected. Formal charges will be filed sometime in the next twenty-four hours. She cut her eyes over to both of us as she spoke. "They still need to do a formal interview with him. The police believe they have their man. I have already heard the term, "slam dunk" Used loosely around the station."
"Having read the report and the charges, do you believe the same thing?" I asked.
"I am so sorry." She said looking at me with a killer smile. "I didn't catch your name."
Tank interrupted. "I'm sorry Angie. This is Stephanie Plum. She is going to be involved pretty closely on this, so you will be seeing her a lot."
She reached out and shook my hand. "It is very nice to meet you, Stephanie. As for your question, I am very optimistic that we can get these charges dismissed."
She smiled and her teeth were so white that I squinted. Tank had used "Angie", instead of "Angelica". Apparently comfortable with using a shortened version of her name. I instantly disliked her. Her teeth were way to white.
"What we need to do," She continued. "Is move the investigation in a different direction, away from Carlos. We need to figure out who would want to kill Miss Burrows, and why? Did she have enemies? Who didn't get along with her? Did she have a boyfriend? Was she in any kind of disgruntled situation at work? Things like that will be important. It may be the key to finding another suspect. It is also what Carlos wants. I have talked with him for a few moments already. He is very distraught. He blames himself for dismantling the security and making it possible for something like this to happen. He feels responsible. He thinks he killed her."
She folded her hands on the table, and looked again at Tank. Ignoring my presence completely. "I do not believe he killed her, if that is what you're thinking. This isn't his work. I believe he's innocent. He didn't do it, but he wants very much to kill the person who did."
Her eyes now focused on me. "Now, Miss Plum. Can I call you Stephanie?"
"Yes." I really didn't like to be called Miss Plum. I sounded like a fruit.
"I know a bit about Tank and the other boys that work for Rangeman. Can you tell me a little about yourself? Why you are involved in this? I am coming into this with no paperwork on whom exactly you are." She said this in a demeaning tone. "Assistant? Secretary? The police will be questioning you."
Tank leaned back and folded his hands. He just looked straight ahead. I had no idea why I needed to tell her any of these things, but Ok. I'll play. I didn't like her tone, either. Did I look like a secretary? Not that I couldn't look like a secretary, I had been a damn good secretary for two days, once.
"For starters," she began. "What is your full name, age, and occupation?"
I took a deep breath. Formalities. Lawyers, I never liked them. I liked them even less after my divorce. I held a little bit of a grudge.
"Stephanie Michelle Plum." I said. "I am thirty-three. I work as a bond enforcement agent."
"Really?" She looked at me again, smiling.
Surprised, she was. I thought proudly in my Yoda voice.
"Ok." she said. Writing that down.
What? Did I not look like a bad ass bond enforcer? I looked at Tank. I got nothing from him. He was busy watching the office again.
"Can you tell me how you are involved in this case?"
"I'm an interested party."
"I'm not following, Stephanie. Why are you involved with my client's affairs?"
I looked at her. This had nothing to do with the case. It had everything to do with her. She was questioning me about my relationship with Ranger.
"That's none of your business, Miss Rodriguez." I said defiantly.
Tank looked at me. I saw a smile crack on his stone face.
She looked at Tank and then at her assistant. She put her gold Monte Blanc pen down on the legal pad, and asked her assistant to get her a cup of coffee.
After the door shut, she said. "OK, I get it. Carlos is going to pull me off this isn't he?"
"I don't know, Angie." Tank said to her.
"He should keep me on." She said adamantly. "He needs good legal representation."
"He'll get it." Tank said. "If he is not comfortable with you working this, Michael Rosewall will take it. He's good."
She sat there for a moment. She actually looked like she was losing her cool. She went on, now looking only at Tank.
"Jeanne? Was he having an affair with Jeanne Ellen? You know, he called me last week. He wanted to meet with me. What was he doing? If he was having an affair with Jeanne, this could be more complicated."
She started on a new page of her legal pad. She tapped her pen.
"Ok, Stephanie." She said sarcastically.
I could see why Ranger would say it wasn't a good idea to keep Angelica Rodriguez as his attorney. Ranger was important to her. He was sleeping with her. Agh! Damn it, Ranger! Trisha, and now this. This was such a small city all of a sudden. When he said he had other relationships; I assumed they were maybe in China or Indonesia.
She looked at me, maybe for the first time in a new light. "The police are going to ask you some very personal questions. You need to be honest with them; I will represent you until I am pulled. You need someone with you so you don't implicate anyone, accidentally."
She eye-balled the heart pendant around my neck. "Present?"
I reached up and touched it. She just smiled.
"Of course it is." She said. Picking up her fancy pen, and getting ready to write.
If I had anything to say about it, she was definitely going to be pulled from the case.
"You're one of the four." I said, studying her.
"One of the what?" She was confused.
"Nothing," I said.
She knew Ranger was magic as much as I did. We shared a knowing glance. Then, Angelica Rodriguez was back to being professional. She took her job seriously. She had called her assistant back in, and now she was gathering information and paperwork. He came in with the warrants and the search and seizure papers. She read through them.
"From what these say, two vehicles are going to be taken as evidence. A transport truck is already here to pick them up. One is a black 1985 Jeep CJ-7 and the other, a black 2012 Porsche Carrera. Also, the entire third floor and the apartment on the seventh floor is warranted for search. Anything that may be used as evidence will be collected. The apartment, I am assuming must be Carlos's.
"That's my Jeep." I said, panicking. "They can't take my Jeep, can they? I just got it back! And my stuff is in that apartment."
"Of course it is, dear." She said, mocking me. My eyes got small, and I glared at her.
"Well." She said. "Let's go take a look at the seventh floor apartment. I wouldn't want them to be going through things they aren't supposed to."
Ranger hates people in his personal space. It made me uncomfortable that we were going up to his apartment. Tank was not happy that people were traipsing around his boss's private space either, and I was not happy they would be traipsing around my private stuff. Angelica was just not happy, period. I stood in the doorway with my arms crossed. I couldn't believe this was happening.
Angelica looked around the room, watching all the investigators and crew searching his apartment. "Gentlemen, ladies. I hope that you are following the orders of the search." She walked around, making sure the things going out matched the things that were in the search warrant.
"Hey!" I said frantically. "Those are mine!"
A man was bagging up my underwear! I grabbed them.
"Stephanie." It was Joe. "What are you doing here? We are doing a legal search."
"For my underwear?" I said. I couldn't believe they would need those for evidence.
Joe smiled.
I pointed to Angelica. "I want you to meet my attorney." I said. "Angelica Rodriguez. This is the jerk trying to bag my underwear, Joe Morelli." They shook hands.
"Amazing how worlds collide." She said, smiling at him.
"I know Joe." She said coolly.
"How are you doing, Angel?" Joe said to her.
I looked at him, and then her. My jaw dropped.
"Really?" I said. Taking a deep, frustrated long breath. "Well.." I threw my hands up. I had to walk away. She was a slut! So was Joe, and so was Ranger. Agh! Damn! Was every good-looking woman in Trenton going to be part of this?
The police were pawing through my things, going through Ranger's bedside drawers. Picking through really personal things. I saw someone pick up the box of condoms. I knew there was only one left. I remembered mentioning that to Ranger. It seemed like light-years ago.
I wanted Ranger to be here; I wanted people out of my personal shit. All I could hear was "ooh, nice." Geez, this sucked. I wanted to leave, but I wanted to see what they were looking at, and what they were touching. I walked out. This was personal. They were ruining it. I walked down the stairs to the third floor. I watched the monitors as they loaded the Jeep on to a flatbed truck. There goes my ride. I wanted Angelica Rodriguez off the case.
I went over to where Tank stood. The rest of Ranger's men were standing against the wall, watching the office as it was disassembled. "Has Ranger called?"
He nodded, yeah.
"What did he say about Angelica?"
"He asked me to tell her we needed other representation. She is too close. It is uncomfortable. He told me to get Michael Rosewall. He is on his way down here now."
I would be much happier with someone else handing this. He was right, it was uncomfortable.
I waited for Ranger's new attorney. Tank was by my side.
Michael Rosewall looked like a casino pit boss in Italian leather shoes and shark skin suit. He was tall with a slick bald head and handsome features. He carried a team of seven behind him. They took command of the room immediately. He was in his late forties. He looked like someone you would pay attention to in a courtroom. He had charisma. An air about him that oozed confidence. Angelica Rodriguez was asked to leave; I watched her walk out after shaking Tank's hand, and Michael's. Suddenly, there was a lot less being taken out of RangeMan. Rosewall was apparently very good. Ranger was a smart man.
Michael Rosewall walked over and introduced himself to us. Tank and I were standing in the middle of the chaotic disaster that was RangeMan's control room.
We went into the glass room to talk.
"You must be Stephanie." Rosewall concluded as he shook my hand. Mr. Manoso has a lot of faith in you."
I was stumped. He could see this, and he explained.
"He named you his Fiduciary."
"His what?" I said still confused.
"You now have control of his estate, his business, and his legal representation. Everything. Like I said, he has a lot of faith in you. He wants you to find out who killed Jeanne, and who framed him. He wants you in charge. He feels like he will not act responsibly, so he needs someone who he can trust to handle his affairs."
That is just great. He was giving me the chance to screw his life up. That's fantastic. Just what I needed.
Michael Rosewall said he had to catch up on the case, so he could get things rolling in the right direction. He had both of us sign documents, and he let us know that only half the things they were trying to take were allowed. His assistants would be watching everything from here on in. They had stopped most of it, including most of my personal belongings. But not the Jeep or the Carrera.
"Tomorrow at eight am I will be talking again with my client. He has a formal interview with the police. I need to be up to speed with what is happening. I do not know much right now. By morning, let me assure you, I will be more up to date. I will be in touch."
He reached out and shook both our hands. His were warm, and his face reassuring. Tank walked him out.
It was very late when the police and the FBI left. I helped Hal and Lester clean up. The office techs were trying to get all the security systems back online with what equipment they had left. Ramon brought in some of his personal computer stash to help work it all out. They had five screens up and functioning.
Once I knew everyone was off the seventh floor, I went back up the apartment. Ella was there, trying to clean up. I helped as much as I could.
"This is a terrible mess, Stephanie. I really hope that Carlos can come home soon."
They had taken some of my things, and most of Rangers. His closet was almost bare. His dresser had been taken apart. His bed was flipped over and in a corner. The whole place was destroyed. I was angry. This should not have happened.
I checked my phone; I had a message from Mr. Walters from the FBI field office. It said they would appreciate it if I came in to give an exit interview about Paul Banter. I thought back, it seemed like an eternity since I had apprehended Paul. I tried to remember everything about it. The apartment building and locking up. The police station and the video. I knew they would call eventually. I called the number he had left. It was nearly midnight, I was surprised to hear him pick up the phone. I told him I would be happy to do an interview with them tomorrow morning, but either I would need a ride, or the interview would need to be at Rangeman.
They opted for RangeMan. I called Tank to let him know they were coming. I also asked if he would sit in with me for it.
Ella and I put Ranger's bed back together quietly. I helped pick up his apartment. I said goodnight to her, and tried to sleep. I stared up at the ceiling for hours, trying to close my eyes. Finally I dozed off, only to be woken up a few hours later by Ranger's alarm clock.
Tank set up the meeting in the same office that we were in hours before. It was a short interview. I told them most of what I knew. I had found Paul's keys, but I had lost them in Scottsdale before I could send them back. I left out the meeting with the Mafia, and the fact that I hadn't actually lost the keys. Then, they got to the meat and potatoes of why they wanted to meet with me. Mr. Walters wanted to ask me questions about Jeanne Ellen Burrows. I wasn't that surprised, since the FBI had overseen everything the previous day. I was curious about why they were so interested. When I asked them, they decided the interview was pretty much completed, and that they would see themselves out.
I looked at Tank. "Why would the FBI be interested in Jeanne?"
I looked through my pockets and found Michael Rosewell's card. I called him, hoping he could help. I thought that a lawyer high up on the food chain had to have some connections to the FBI. I wanted to know more about why they were so interested in her. Maybe it was something that could help Ranger. I didn't know anyone who worked for the Feds. Michael's office put me through to his assistant, Tom Dickens. I explained what had happened, and what I wanted.
He said that he might have someone. He needed to make some phone calls.
He called back ten minutes later. He had someone who would talk to me. For a fee he would give me twenty minutes. The fee ended up to be two thousand dollars. He said he would bill Rangeman for it.
Tom Dickens picked me up at 11:30 in his silver BMW. I guess assistants must make good money. Next time I need a job, maybe I should look into that.
"You have an interview with FBI investigator, Harold Krumly." Tom said, as I got into the car. "He said he didn't know what he could give you, but he might be able to help. He bills us, we bill RangeMan. Is that correct?"
That would work out great. My Visa card was maxed out. I had full access to Ranger's account. It was a strange feeling having that power over someone's finances, especially if that someone was Ranger.
We met Harold Krumly at a local pub. He was a large man with bad skin and a bulbous nose. Paul introduced us, and then said his goodbyes.
Harold already had a drink, so I ordered one too. I order a coke, since I knew my limits. Alcohol and I have a strange relationship. It causes me to fall on the floor, especially when I am stressed the hell out. I got right down to business. Two thousand dollars was a lot of clams.
"I have a couple of questions." I said, trying to get the feel of the man sitting at the bar. I didn't know if trusting someone who took money for information was a good idea, but I needed to start somewhere. "The FBI questioned me today. During that interview, they asked me about a woman named Jeanne Ellen Burrows. When I asked them why they were inquiring about her, they shook my hand and left. I need to know what the deal is with Jeanne Ellen and the FBI."
He smiled as he took a long tip off his drink. "I knew this would be about her." He said. His eyes lit up as he talked. It was clear he loved to talk about things he wasn't supposed to. Maybe he was a good contact after all. "I can tell you that she has been moonlighting for the FBI for about 15 years. She was a high paid informant. It is a pity what happened to her. A real shame. She was a beautiful woman, and a great agent."
"What exactly was she doing for the FBI, and what do you mean, moonlighting?" I asked. Fifteen years is a long time.
"Oh, the usual. She ran surveillance on known criminals. Kept tabs on questionable business practices. She found drug, weapon, and slave trade organizers. She also helped weed out some big names in mafia land. Jeanne was a huge asset. They are not very happy that she's gone. She took a lot of chances, and she didn't mind who she stepped on. Jeanne was completely in it for the money. She helped us with many problems."
He took another drink, put his glass down and motioned for the bartender. "She was investigating your boyfriend, Carlos Manoso."
My boyfriend? I never thought Ranger and "boyfriend" would go into the same sentence.
"Why was she investigating him? What does the FBI have on Carlos Manoso?"
"Jeanne was a strange bird. She had no scruples about who she fucked over, excuse my French. As long as she got her paycheck. It's not just this "Ranger" character, it is his company. He has questionable business practices. Ties to everyone you can think of, and he acts suspicious. RangeMan Security has been under the microscope for a long time. Jeanne Ellen was sure that she could find something to bring them down. So far, she had nothing. We were ready to pull the investigation. She is expensive to keep on, and she wasn't bringing in the results we needed to continue. She had been given a time limit. Six more months. If she couldn't find any evidence, the FBI was dropping the investigation."
"Who would have wanted her dead if they found out about her activities?"
"Everyone she had ever investigated, I suppose. Is that why you're asking? You think someone else came in after Mr. Manoso left the scene, and killed her?" He took another drink. "I think that is a stretch. I think he found out what she was up to, threatened her more than once, and then killed her. He's good for it. I will tell you this, If he didn't do it. It was very bad timing." Krumly lit a cigarette. Keeping is thoughts to himself.
"I don't think he did it, Mr. Krumly." I said.
He smiled at me sadly. "My dear child, what makes you think that?" He said. "He was in the perfect position to pull this off, from what I hear about him, he has very few scruples."
I disregarded his impudence towards me. "If he had killed her, he wouldn't have left any evidence."
"That will be difficult to prove. Although, she has enough enemies." He was thinking hard now, contemplating another angle to all of it.
"Could the Mafia have put a hit out on her?" I said.
"We know there was already a hit in place. She knew, she just didn't care. It was not unusual for her to be under fire. It never stopped her. She was unnerving. She usually hunted the person down that had the job, and killed them first. We have asked our sources about the possibility that the hit was completed. So far, no one is taking credit for it. Someone got to her first. Maybe your friend Carlos, or maybe someone else. She was feeding a lot of dogs. One of them bit."
An interesting analogy. I would need to think about that one. I thanked him for his time. And I went out and called a cab.
I thought about what I had learned. If Jeanne Ellen was an informant, she might have had a lot more enemies than anyone knew. If there had been a hit out on her, It was possible that "Tony the Tool" was after her. Maybe that was the big hit Connie was talking about. If Tony is not taking credit for it, who got to her first? And why?