Chapter 31
We took the stairs. Ranger's phone to his ear trying repeatedly to reach the security desk. No one was answering. A second explosion hit. Ranger dove to the ground, pulling me with him. "That sounded like a grenade." He said. We crouched on the second floor landing, his body covering mine. Pieces of concrete rained down around us. My heart was pounding. Adrenaline pumping through my veins. We took the remaining section at breakneck speed.
Ranger stopped short of opening the door to ground level, causing me to plow into him. He reached for the handle, his fingertips testing the door for heat. He opened it slowly. I stayed behind him. He reached for my hand, pulling me in closer. Before us, smoke. Lots of it. Ranger swiped his phone, trying to call. "Where are you?" he demanded.
The debris in the air made it difficult to breathe and harder to see. Both of us desperately searching for any signs of life. Two shapes crouched behind a steel barrier. I pointed them out to Ranger. John Saxon sat on the ground leaning against the steel pillar, using it as a shield. His gun was out and he was looking for a target. Joe was with him. He had taken his shirt off and was working it around John's leg with one hand. Ranger and I ducked down and ran over.
"I called 911. They're coming." Joe yelled. He looked towards me. "Your Jeep, Cupcake. I think someone tossed a grenade, and the alarm went off. John was too close. I tried to warn him off. Guess he hasn't been briefed about you yet."
The sound in the parking garage was deafening. Car alarms were going off in every direction making it impossible to concentrate. Everything was echoing everything else. Ranger pulled his keys out of his pocket. The garage went silent.
Joe held his arm at an odd angle. Concern washed over me in a wave. "You're hurt!" I said. I knelt down, helping him finish off the bandage for John.
Joe reached for his shoulder. "Dislocated it again. Hurts like a son of a bitch. I must have landed on it when the Jeep exploded."
It was happening again. I thought. I came back to Trenton and everything is the same. The only difference was now people were getting hurt. People were dying. I was now sure that my return had been a mistake.
Joe was watching me. "You look conflicted."
A tear ran down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly, smiling. Trying to pretend everything was okay.
"This wasn't your fault." Joe said, lifting my chin so I had to look at him."This guy is insane. You didn't make him that way. Don't beat yourself up over this."
"Thank you." I said.
"For what?"
"For the "not your fault" Speech. Just thank you."
Joe mussed up my hair. "This guy is making me look bad. He is always one step ahead. I want to catch him before he does anymore damage."
I helped Joe with a makeshift sling for his arm. Keeping it immobile would make it less painful. I scanned the parking lot. What was left of my Jeep lay strewn across the garage. One of the tires had rolled across the structure floor and was leaning haphazardly against the black company SUVs. Another had landed on Ella's husband's prized red Cadillac. I grimaced. He loved that car.
John's leg bandage had already bled through parts of the makeshift wrap. It looked like a bad break. Ranger's phone went off. He picked it up with a stated "Talk to me." It must have been the team on three. As he spoke, he turned every few seconds. Watching for anything that might be a threat to us. He had one hand holding the phone, the other was hovering dangerously close to his gun holster. I heard him ask for a sweep of the area including the park. Les Sebring was still a threat. He was out there running a muck, killing people and blowing shit up. The situation was out of control. He could toss another grenade in at us at any moment. We were all at risk out in the open. He dropped the phone into his pocket and came over to help us.
"There was a second explosion." Ranger waited for acknowledgement. He checked the bandage on John's leg, and added another layer.
John's face contorted in pain when Ranger tightened up the binding. "Your Porsche." John said, pointing his finger to something behind us.
Ranger and I both turned our heads, searching. I had thought it was part of the Jeep. What was left of the Porsche was nearly unrecognizable. The force of the impact must have been amplified by the low ceiling garage. The car had blown apart. What was left of the leather interior was on fire. The rest of what used to be a high performance super sexy Black Boxster S was now twisted metal and broken glass. He had blown up my favorite ride. I would miss that car.
"It was Les Sebring." Joe said. "John and I watched him toss that second grenade. All we could do was take cover. The grenade rolled under the Porsche. He was trying to throw it at us, but his aim was off. This barrier saved us. Fucking asshole took off towards the park."
The sound of sirens were getting closer. Tank ambled towards us, cell phone held cockeyed between ear and shoulder. He had a box in his arms overflowing with medical supplies. Hal was not far behind. "Ambulance and fire won't risk vehicles coming in here until the building has been checked out. They won't walk in, either. Too dangerous. No way we can guarantee the building is safe." Tank said.
I casually looked up, searching for evidence that the building would collapse on top of us. It was a new fear. Something I had not considered, and it wasn't a good feeling. Suddenly I was slightly claustrophobic. I checked, but found nothing that seemed dangerously over stressed. The building seemed solid to me. I was hoping that safety checks were precautionary.
"The police will have the building blocked off as soon as possible. We will have to bring John and Joe out to them. Ramon found this." Tank said. He handed Ranger a legal size envelope. It was stained with grease and dirt. There was no writing on the outside that I could see. He broke the seal and pulled out a single lined piece of notebook paper. Ranger read it, then handed it to me.
The note was written on the fourth line in black ink. It was centered.
"Have you built your ship of death, O have you?
O build your ship of death, for you will need it."
I gave it back to Ranger, not wanting to hold onto the ominously toned note. It appeared to be a suggestion for me to get ready for death. It was coming. I wrapped my arms around myself, immediately feeling like being in the middle of a parking lot was a bad idea. Sebring had successfully given me the heebie jeebies.
Ranger handed the note to Joe. It's "The Ship of Death". He said. "John Herbert Lawrence wrote it. My uncle, Cecil has that poem framed on the wall. I always thought it was creepy."
Joe read the text, then folded it, putting it in his pocket. "I am not sure that Stephanie is the only target. The sooner we get this freak, the better. We could all be on his shit list."
"I can walk!" John shouted. Tank wasn't hearing it. He was on one side, Hal on the other. Together they picked him up, forcing him to hold on as they made a makeshift swing seat and walked him to the front of the building.
I stood with the men of RangeMan, watching the ambulance pull away. Joe was reluctant to go with them. He said it would be faster for him to drive. Being that he only had one good arm, the paramedics told him to get in. John's leg was braced and his arm was wrapped before they loaded him up. As the ambulance left, two wrecker trucks arrived for what was left of my Jeep and the Porsche.
"Building and Safety will be here within the hour along with a structural engineer." Ranger said. "Until they clear it, we are not suppose to be inside."
Hal looked back at the building. "I have work to do. I'm going back in." Ramon followed him. Lester and Cal followed suit. Ranger watched them go.
"I thought you said they were suppose to stay out?"
"They don't really follow the rules. Plus, does it look like the building is going to collapse? The army purposefully put us in more dangerous buildings than this to set up command posts. I am fairly certain RangeMan is secure enough to stay in."
We followed Ranger's men back into the building. Being inside had to be better than standing out in the open with a crazy grenade throwing lunatic out to get you.
I hit the button for the elevator. "You might not want to do that." Ranger said. "Just in case. Take the stairs."
Ranger, Hal and I stood in front of the security monitors. We watched Ramon pull up the CCTV video of the parking garage. The Jeep and the Porsche blew up and we viewed it from every angle. We watched it in slow motion, forwards and backwards. I watched my beloved truck scatter into a million pieces over and over again. It had survived the curse of Stephanie Plum for over a year and a half, then cablooie, it's gone. Rest in peace, little Jeep.
Ramon stopped the tape and focused in on what looked like a person's arm. He brought it in closer. I could clearly see the grenade leaving the hand, landing on the driver's side seat of the Jeep. It sat there for a moment, innocently. Then the lights flashed. The Jeep had detected something different, warning it. The horn started bellowing, and the lights flashed on and off. From the camera's angle, we watched John come into the camera frame. He was walking towards the car. Then he stopped, and dug his cellphone out of his pocket. The phone call Ranger had made, I thought. Joe entered the frame in the far right hand corner, He reaches for John. Then the Jeep explodes violently, throwing the two men out of the frame. The jeep deteriorated in front of us. From what I just saw I knew both of them were lucky to be alive.
"Holy shit." Ramon said, as he adjusted the image. He found the camera nearest to the Boxster. Again, we saw what looked like a persons arm. It clearly threw something that looked like a rock. I watched it roll under Ranger's Porsche. I could see both John and Joe dive for cover behind the steel barrier. An envelope sailed down innocently, hitting the ground. Seconds later, the Porsche was gone. It was tossed. Exploding like a fireball. Parts of it traveled in every direction.
"Go to camera twelve." Hal said. "It should be facing the opening where the first grenade came through." Ramon typed it into the computer. Camera twelve was on. I could see crime scene tape attached to the wall in the camera's live feed.
Ramon went back through the camera's memory, searching. There was a quick awkward movement on the screen and I knew he had found what he was looking for. Ramon hit play and we watched Les Sebring walk into the camera's field of view. "Holy shit." Ramon said. "There he is."
Les Sebring casually walked over to the underground garage. A small slice opening of brick was stationed about every twenty feet along this side of the building. From there, if you ducked down, you could see parts of the parking garage. It let in light and was built to be attractive. There were metal bars on all of the slices, but there was enough space between them to throw something inside. My Jeep was parked about fifteen feet from the wall. If you are a decent pitcher, you would not have any problem getting something into that front seat.
We watched Les squat down and scan the garage. He pulled something good size out of his pocket. It was the grenade. He pulled the pin and tossed it through the opening into the garage. Moments later, smoke and debris flowed through the slice window. Les Sebring was not in the frame anymore.
"Go to camera fourteen." Hal said. Ramon typed it in, and the camera feed came up. Les Sebring was there. He hunkered down in front of the opening, waiting. He pulled another grenade out of his pocket and pulled the pin. He was aiming for something. I knew that something was Joe. He threw it hard. Then he took an envelope out of his pocket and handled it so the camera could see it. Then dropped it through the opening. This was the note that Ramon found. Moments later, the camera shook with the explosion. Les Sebring was gone. Ranger copied the files and put them on a flashdrive, dropping them into his pocket.
John Saxon was taken to Saint Francis. Ranger and I stayed with him, filling out the stacks of paperwork on his behalf. Rangeman was taking full responsibility for both men. His x rays were up on the view box. I examined them. Two breaks were circled. The worst break was the fibula. The other was in his wrist. He would be going in for surgery on his leg in the morning. His wrist was going to be put into a cast after the swelling went down. He would be here for at least a few days, then transferred back to Atlanta to heal at home with his family.
By the time we left John's room, Joe had already been treated and released. Just as he had said, his shoulder was dislocated. He would need to keep it in a sling for a few weeks to let it heal. Joe left four messages on my voice mail. The main sentiment was to remind Ranger to come in. They needed his statement.
Ranger dropped me off before heading over to meet Rosewall for the interview at the station. I was nervous. I had no idea if they were going to hold him. I was hoping it was pretty obvious that Les Sebring was still alive, and he was the most likely suspect for blowing up the yacht and the people aboard, especially with what happened this morning. I walked back into the building. Ranger waited until I was safe inside before driving away. The garage echoed as the door shut behind me. It seemed to quiet. Too empty. All the vehicles had been taken in to either be washed, or repaired. The marks from the blasts were deep and dark. It would be a long time before the shadows of what happened would wash away from the lot and from our minds.
My cell phone rang as I stepped out of the shower. It was Ranger.
"Yo." I said, as I grabbed a towel.
"I'm leaving the police station now." Ranger said. "They were not happy Rosewall was with me. It made the process speed up. Two hours. I think it is a new record. There are some things lawyers are definitely good for."
"Are you coming back to the office?" I asked.
"That is up to you. I have some things I want to check out. If you come with me, I'll buy you dinner."
"What kind of dinner?"
"How about seafood? I think it is a good idea to talk to some of the locals at the marina. Maybe we will get lucky and someone will know something."
"The locals at Bayside keep to themselves." I said. "How are you going to get them to talk?"
"I was thinking of bringing a beautiful woman along that wears short skirts and bends over a lot."
I almost dropped the phone.
"I'm kidding about bending over."
"Did you hear back from the safety engineer?" I asked. "They came in with the building inspector, but told Tank they would call you."
"He cleared it. We need to patch a few things, but in his words "This building was built like a fortress. The A bomb would probably be the only thing that could bring this bitch down."
"Geez."
"His words. Not mine. Be down in ten." Ranger disconnected.
I pulled on a black scuba skirt and matching black crop top in lieu of leaning solidly on joining Ranger's motley crew. If nothing more than to feel safe until Les Sebring was caught. I slipped on some black strappy flats and spent ten minutes putting on a solid amount of makeup including mascara. I spent another five trying to get my hair to cooperate. I checked myself in the mirror. Eat your heart out, Joyce.
Ranger's truck sat idling in the empty parking garage. The big black Ford shook with power. The engine rumbled under the hood. When he had left the garage, the truck had been covered in dust, now it was spotless. Ranger probably had one of his minions pick the truck up when he went to the police station. It was detailed. Spotless. Ranger's choice of vehicles echoed the way I felt. I wanted to be in something that would protect me from scary men throwing grenades. I knew it wouldn't save us from being blown up, but it was still better than a rag top sports car.
Ranger watched me climb into the truck. His dark eyes were assessing me. "Your choice of clothing could make us late."
"You told me to wear a skirt." I said, toying with him. "You don't like it?" I thrust out my chest & pursed my lips.
Ranger's arm slid around me and with one fluid motion pulled me into his lap. His fingers slid under the folds of the skirt, resting on my upper thigh. Goosebumps ran up my arm. "Maybe, I like it too much." He said, bringing me in closer. He kissed me hungrily, his arm pulling me in closer still till I pressed against him. Fire raced to my belly, as I tried to keep my composure.
"Um, I see your point." I said, pulling back from the kiss. My temperature was rising. I was desperately trying to backpedal. I mean, wait! What was happening here? It's not like I was innocent of the backseat make-out session, but it never had happened with Ranger. Plus, there usually was a back seat involved, and darkness had a key role. This was the front seat of a truck with a stick shift and a console, and it was 3pm! I could feel my cheeks flush.
Ranger's eyes dilated to black. I knew I was in trouble. His fingers crept up my thigh a little higher. That apparently was my trigger. Suddenly, I thought it was a hell of an idea. I searched for the button to bring the seat down, but he found it first. The chair moved, reclining the back so that I was leaning into him. "Oh.." I said. Our noses nearly touching. I felt his warm breath on my skin. I could feel him against my thigh. He shifted under me.
"We never got to finish our conversation." Ranger whispered, nibbling my ear.
I bit my lip. Desire swept through me. It was difficult not to moan. "Which one?" I asked, finding my voice. My hand crept under the waistband of his black cargo pants, unbuttoning them.
He pulled my shirt up, slipping his fingers effortlessly under my push-up bra, and taking my breast in his mouth, eagerly. "Benefits."
"And you want to talk about that now?" I mumbled, as my lips caressed his.
"Yes."
But then he paused. Pulling away from me, fixing my bra, and pulling my shirt down. Smoothing it out. He picked me up and dumped me into the passenger seat, bringing the seat back up. "Business first." He said, as he drove out of the RangeMan lot and into traffic.
I closed my mouth, open from shock of being tossed. The thrill of the moment had overtaken rational sensibility. I was trying hard to compose myself, but in all honesty I couldn't just turn it off.
"What was that?" I said, trying hard to control the urge to leap back onto his lap and finish what we started.
"I'm not sure." His eyes met mine.
"How can you just turn it off?" I asked.
"Its not off. I am controlling it." Ranger said.
"So if I.."
He grabbed my hand before it reached his crotch. "No fair."
I didn't want to be fair, he started this. I moved my hand closer and he took a deep breath, and turned around. I guess there is only so much a man can control after all.
He had me back in his lap before the truck stopped moving, picking me up as if I weighed nothing. Ranger drove into a far left corner of the building, trying to avoid cameras. He set the parking brake with a jump, and shut off the engine. This was not at all like the man I knew. The Ranger I knew would have taken me upstairs and spent hours exploring my body with his tongue, and I was kind of expecting him to move in that direction. Clearly I was wrong.
"I thought this was against all your principles." I said. His mouth was on mine before I had a chance to say anything more, like wait or hold on. Ranger had made up his mind. There was no stopping or waiting or fumbling. He may not have been in control of himself, but he knew what he was doing.
With one skilled sweep, he had my skirt up and my panties down. His hand found purchase between my thighs, sliding his fingers slowly inside of me while his kiss drew more desperate. I think sugarplums started dancing in my head. Suddenly the craving to have him was beyond my ability to control. The thirst had to be quenched no matter what the consequences. I straddled him, forgetting all my ladylike manners, unbuttoning his cargo pants, releasing him from the restrictions of this clothing. Ranger's hand was on the curve of my back. Forcefully, he pulled me in closer, sliding inside of me. It happened so quickly that neither of us thought to stop. Our cardinal instincts took over. We danced. Moving to the beat of some primitive drum. Letting go of our inhibitions, and giving into what we wanted. I never thought that having sex in the front seat of a pick-up truck would ever be as torrid as this felt. I closed my eyes and let it happen.
Ranger released the buttons of my shirt one by one, and slid my bra straps down. His mouth was on my breast. I pushed my chest closer, tingling from the sensations running through me. His left hand was sliding slowly down to my ass, the other hand following suit. Soon he controlled the movements of my hips, pushing faster. There was no stopping this time. I felt him release inside of me, each spasm dove him deeper in. His mouth sliding up to my neck as he came back into control of himself.
He nuzzled up against me, holding me tight to him. I could feel his heartbeat as his lips gently touched mine in a soft surrendering kiss.
"Holy cow" I whispered, when the storm finally passed. I laid my head on his shoulder. My shirt had been torn open, my bra straps were at my elbows, my clothes in complete disarray.
Ranger held me, pulling up one of the bra straps in an impossible attempt to fix them.
"I'm blaming the catholic school girl skirt." Ranger said pulling my shirt back together.
We took the stairs up to his apartment. Ranger had mentioned that there were a few more things he would like to discuss with me upstairs. I was fairly certain that the trip to the marina was going to be postponed.