Chapter 32

Ranger's arm snaked around my waist, drawing me in. The warmth of his body soaking into my skin as he mimicked my body's position. I snuggled in closer. He kissed my shoulder before climbing out of bed. The sound of running water soon broke the morning's calm demure. The bathroom door had been left open ever so slightly. An open invitation if I was up to it. The light from the doorway cast contrasting shadows on the walls of his bedroom, like a noir film from the past. Soon, the scent of Bulgari floated through the air. I closed my eyes, drifting back to sleep.

In what seemed like moments I woke to the perturbing sound of my cell phone. It's obnoxious vibrations echoed through the room as it rumbled uneasily on the nightstand. I covered my head with a pillow. I had been dreaming. In my dream I was finally a superhero. I was 'Lint Girl'. Anywhere dust bunnies lurked, I could transform into 'Lint Girl'. When the bad guys attacked, I could blow lint in their faces and make them sneeze. In the dream, I was coming to terms with my own powers; as obscure as they were. The distraction of the consistent noise uprooted what had been a great new respect for the debris under the refrigerator. I tried to bring it back, but it rolled away like smoke in the wind.

Finally, the phone stopped vibrating, only to begin again almost instantaneously. My arm reached over, creeping onto the table. Refusing to move my head from under the pillow, I searched blindly for the piece of technology that everyone wanted, but no one really needed. It dropped. For a moment I was relieved. 'Maybe I broke it, and it will shut up'. I thought. It continued its vibrating dance on the floor below. If Ranger had carpet, it wouldn't have been so bad, but the man had put hardwood floors in his apartment. I grabbed it with contempt and read the caller ID. It was Joe.

I checked the time. 6am. What the hell did he want?

"Lo?" I said. That was as good as I can do at six in the morning. If you want a true hello, I need coffee first.

"Guess I woke you up."

I scrunched the covers up around myself and sat up. "Guess you did. Who died?"

"No one died." Joe said, sarcastically. His tone was borderline amused. I considered hanging up, but my brain was rolling slowly toward a 'need to know' phase. It had to be pretty important to risk an early morning phone call to an ex girlfriend. My eyes started to droop. Just a few more minutes... My only hope was that 'Lint Girl' would come back so I could talk some sense into her. There had to be a better way to fight the evil in the world. Lint might not be the best option. I thought we might need a back up plan.

"Hey!"

My eyes popped back open.

"Wake the fuck up!" Joe screamed.

"This better be good." I said, yawning.

"Cupcake, I am always good. Especially in the morning, you know that."

I looked down at the phone, confused. "Flirting with an ex girlfriend? I could use this against you Joe Morelli. Waking me up at this ungodly hour may just make me do some terrible things to your love life. Trisha would not be happy." I said this with the slurred vocabulary of a drunken sailor woken up from a stupor. My mouth moved like slow molasses.

"This is nowhere near flirting." Joe said. "I had to call before I got to work. Meet me for lunch, and bring your boyfriend. I have some things that you might be interested in, and some information that you need to hear."

"What kinds of things?"

"Things I can't talk about on the phone, Cupcake. Perspectives are changing at work. I think we all need to get together and talk about it."

"Where do you want to meet?"

"It needs to be someplace different." Joe said.

"The Bear Pit?"

"One O'clock". Joe disconnected.

Suddenly I wasn't sleepy anymore.

The Bear Pit BBQ and Steak House was famous, but not for the ribs, or the steak. Although I can personally vouch for both being the best in New Jersey. The Bear Pit was famous for being the place to keep your secret meetings, secret. A cloak and dagger meeting could be anything from an affair with a co worker, boyfriend or mistress, to a judge taking bribes. If you needed to be sneaky, The Pit was the place to go. If someone didn't know where it was located, they were probably on the opposing end of the information chain for good reason, and it was better if they stayed there. Jersey had a dark side, but it needed a light side to make it all stick together. It was a 'locals only' type place. They never had to advertise. The place was always busy. They opened their doors at eleven in the morning, and closed after 2am. It was part of the underground that made this state so great.

The dark ominous square building sat in the center of a moat blacktop parking lot. It was in an old industrial part of town, where the buildings were made of bricks that dated back into the early 1900's. It was the only structure with no graffiti on its walls. Faux white decorative shutters adorned the windows that sat seven feet from the ground. On the inside, these windows were covered by thick lightproof red velvet curtains.

According to legend, There was a back entrance that remained locked on the inside by a steel bar. Completely against fire code. They only opened this door for deliveries. The clientele that came in here appreciated this. Only having one way in, made things a lot more discrete. They could focus on the front door. It gave the patrons a sense of security. If that back door was left unbarred; there was a good reason. Jimmy Katz found that out the hard way. He was having an affair with Tony 'T-Bone' Russo's seventeen year old boy. Not exactly the type of thing you want anyone to know about. His kid was not only under age, but Jimmy was taking advantage of the uncomfortable situation. He was planning on blackmailing Tony. Telling him no one would have any respect for him if they knew his boy was a pansy. What Jimmy didn't know was that Tony Russo had accepted his kid's lifestyle and was okay with it. He fully supported his kids decision to be what he wanted to be as long as he stayed away from little perverted assholes like Jimmy. Tony didn't take to kindly to the way Jimmy manipulated the situation or his family. That was the only time I knew that the back door was left unbarred. From what I hear, Jimmy was never heard from again. Rumor has it that a new concrete floor was laid down in the basement of The Bear Pit that week. This was, of course never confirmed, but my friend Marcus works for the Fire Marshall. He told me that when ever they do inspections on the buildings in that area, The Pit is always passed up.

The Bear Pit was unique for a lot of reasons. But the sign was the thing that always got me. On the top of the roof was a blue neon cartoon character of a bear. At night you could see an animated paw swipe at the red neon arrow pointing downwards. When I was a kid, I always thought it was pointing towards hell, but I think it was pointing down at the building itself. Either way, maybe it meant the same thing.

I checked the time on my cell phone. Joe was already ten minutes late. We took the booth in the corner, deep in the back of the restaurant. The darkest corner in the place. Ranger's choice. I bet he was the kid who always sat in the back of the bus, too. That seat was the key position. Every kid wanted that seat. It was long. It stretched from one side of the bus to the other. If you sat right in the center, you could watch everyone load and unload off the bus. I could see a mini Ranger in the center. Watching everyone get on, and everyone get off. No one behind him putting gum in his hair, or posting a 'kick me' sign on his back. You had to wonder where his obsession for this type of behavior stemed from. It could have been from the school bus, I thought. It made perfect sense. These were things that rolled around my brain when we were held up together somewhere waiting on someone who was late.

The lighting was dim inside the restaurant. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. The carpet was like that of a casino floor. Elaborate mixtures of red, white and black designs. The booths had been redone recently in a red sparkle vinyl like a speedboat, and the walls were painted off white. I remembered the last time I had been here with my parents. It had to have been fifteen years since. My dad loved the ribs. No matter what the reputation was, it was his birthday, so we piled into the station wagon and took the trip across town. I remember how dark the place was. I also remembered the booths were red. Not sparkly like they are now.

Ranger sat with his back to the wall. He was one cool cat. His leg was casually thrown onto the red vinyl booth chair. His arm on the dark thickly shellacked oak table, fingers rapping out some unheard tune in his head. His eyes never left the front entrance of the restaurant.

I sat across from him, trying to look as cool as he did. I also had my back to the wall, but it was hard to hold that position in a skirt. Finally, I gave up and put my leg down, taking a sip of my Cherry Coke. I had asked for three extra cherries, and they floated precariously at the top of the ice in my glass.

Ranger had given me the eye when I ordered, raising his eyebrow in discontent with my decision. I knew the look. He had three eyebrow raising looks he gave me. The 'holy shit, I can't believe you got away with that' eyebrow, The eyebrow that I get when I do something sexy that he really likes, and then there was this one. Which meant, 'you think you really need three extra cherries?' I chose to ignore the eyebrow. I would run an extra mile for three extra cherries if I had to.

He ordered a water with lemon. Maybe Cherry Coke was not something that a hard-boiled bounty hunter would order. If you wanted my opinion, he was missing out on a lot of the good things in life with his tough guy image.

Ranger's mouth tightened. I knew Joe must have walked in. "He's here." He said.

I turned to look. Joe was at the bar. He was talking to the bartender. The man took a beer from under the counter, flipped the top off with an opener and handed it over. Joseph Morelli never dressed like a cop. Although there was really no doubt about what he did for a living. He looked like a cop no matter what he wore. Today he chose a white T-shirt and black jeans. Sometimes I wondered if he knew how handsome he was. It wasn't like he put any effort into it. It was the luck of the draw in his family. None of his brothers had moved past the stone age with their looks, but Joe, he was the golden boy. He somehow was given all the good qualities of the Morelli genes and didn't leave any extras for anyone else.

He was oblivious to what others thought of him, like he had blinders on. I secretly wondered if he marveled at himself in the mirror every morning. When I lived with him, he didn't. As a matter of fact, he rarely looked at himself at all unless he was brushing his teeth or getting ready to go out. I know if I was him, I would have had a hard time stepping away from the mirror. Especially naked. Joe's arm was in a sling, and he was wearing a back brace. His police badge hung around his neck. I watched him scan the room, setting his sights on us. As he walked over, a few patrons shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Having the law in here was too close for comfort. A few people waived for their bills. Others sunk lower in their chairs. Joe took no notice. His eyes were focused only on our table.

Joe swung a chair around from the table across from us and took a seat, dropping a coaster down and placing his beer on it. Before he could speak, a girl no older than seventeen swooped in, menus in hand. She was cleverly dressed like a wench from a Renaissance festival. We ordered ribs, all around. We were children of tradition. I was pretty sure I wasn't the only kid who was brought to this strange establishment. My father would whisper about the contemptible things that were believed to have happened here. Most of it, probably just myth in itself, but it was our own little piece of 1950's Hollywood right here in Trenton. My parents were secretly proud to have such a notorious place nearby. I was told by my father that I had to order the ribs. I wasn't even allowed to look at the menu for a second. Even Ranger knew the rules. Ordering a salad here would be like ordering a Corona at Oktoberfest. It just wasn't done.

He waited till the teenage trollop was out of ear shot, and took a swig of his beer before speaking. "I'm officially off the Sebring case. Foster went to the captain and said I was hindering the investigation by leading them down paths that were not credible. Jones concurred."

Ranger shifted in his seat. The mood of this get together clearly changed from relaxed to stressed. All of us keenly aware of the implications of that kind of move. Pulling Joe from the game could only mean one thing. They believed Sebring had died on the boat. No one believed us. They thought someone else was responsible for the things that had been happening. Ranger would be a prime suspect. My mind swam with ways they could implicate not only him, but the entire Rangeman crew. I suppose they could find ways to involve all of us.

Les Sebring had been such a prominent roll model for Trenton. He had given hundreds of thousands of dollars to make the city better. He had helped build the police headquarters and the fire station. He had given money to charities, hospitals, and clubs for the youth. There was no way this city was going to let his name be dragged through the mud unless there was solid proof. The department would protect that legacy. I took a sip of Coke and ate all three cherries in hopes the sugary goodness could help make me feel better somehow.

"Both of those idiots started getting secretive." Joe said. "I thought something strange was going on, but I let it go. I know how partners become brothers. After the bombing in the garage, when I got hurt at Rangeman, that is when things really went south. I wrote up a report stating I had seen Les Sebring. He had thrown the grenades. They went to my captain together. The little bastards requested that I back up. I wasn't expecting it. Total surprise." Joe said.

"What did your captain say was the problem? Did he give you a reason? Ranger asked.

"Foster told my captain that my opinions were biased. That because I was friends with one of the suspects, they couldn't trust me to keep my mouth shut anymore. The captain added that now that I was a victim, and a witness I shouldn't be on the case anyway for any reason. Staying on could damper the credibility of my testimony and sway my judgment. It's total bullshit."

Joe took another pull on his beer, finishing it. "What pisses me off the most is that they wont listen to me when I tell them they are making a mistake. Sebring is alive. My captain thinks they're are right. And I quote, 'Right now, you are charging an innocent deceased civilian of crimes they can no longer defend themselves against.' I guess the fact that I watched Les Sebring throw the grenade doesn't count for much anymore."

Joe leaned back in the chair, obviously angry about the events and that his department had dismissed him so quickly. I knew he was a good cop. He didn't deserve this.

"They have all my reports and they know where to find me if they need anything else. Guess there is not a lot more I can do except wait for them to pull their heads out of their ass. They need to start looking for Sebring, like yesterday."

"They aren't even looking for him?" I asked. My voice squeaked in disbelief.

Joe shook his head. "Nope. He's dead, remember? The autopsy was inconclusive, if you want to call it an autopsy. The body was so badly burned, there was nothing really left. Sebring is dead. That is the determination at the station. No one really wants to hear anything else about it. Right now, they are working on a theory that you blew up your man and tried to kill me. The testimony you gave about knowing what happened on the boat only makes the report stronger."

Ranger was quiet, but I saw his jaw tighten with the news that all his testimony was going to be used against him.

"I've been assigned to desk duty till this all blows over. I don't appreciate those two bozos claiming that I didn't know what Les Sebring looked like. It was him. Not only do we have the accounts, but also the video images. They looked at it, but said that they would need an expert to make sure it wasn't doctored. I threw the files across the room. I think that is when they decided to take me off the case."

"I can't believe this is happening." I said. "We have him on tape. We have threatening letters, we have eye witness accounts that he is still alive. Still they want to put all of it on Ranger?"

"I just got my new orders. That's why I was late. I also have a write up in my personnel file because I was violent with the detectives. Next time it happens, I am transferred out."

I was stunned. Joe could be transferred, and Ranger could be arrested at any moment. I wonder if Les Sebring knew just how much chaos ensued from his little hat trick. Jeanne, the boat, and the garage. Maybe he had been the puppeteer all along.

Joe took a white sheet of paper from his shirt pocket. He unfolded it and dropped it on the table in front of me. "There is more good news, Cupcake. Brace yourself. This is the lab report from the ripped photo found in the park."

I picked it up and started reading.

No fingerprints that were useful. Smudged. The writing on the picture said 'I'm always watching'.

"I'm always watching?" I said out loud. "What is that suppose to mean?"

Joe dropped a photocopy of a taped together photograph of me onto the table. It had been ripped into tiny pieces when it was found. I felt the color drain out of my face as I recognized where this picture was taken. The image was of me. I was facing the camera. It was a web cam image from a laptop. The laptop inside Ranger's apartment.

Ranger leaned in, looking carefully at the picture. "He hacked into the system upstairs and shot the picture while you were online." Ranger took a deep breath before he continued. "I will talk to Ramon. Our system security should have prevented anything like this from happening. I need to have all the systems checked." He slid his chair out and stood, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I'm calling this in."

Ranger quickly walked away. I knew he would want to deal with this in private. Joe and I both watched him. He opened the front door and walked out of the restaurant. The light from outside snuck in, the booths temporarily lit up from the glare, bringing it out of the darkness only to be sunk back in as the door closed.

"Manoso keeps getting pulled back into this." Joe said. "First with Jeanne's murder, and now he is being fingered for the deaths on the boat and for the incident in the garage. Either Sebring really hates both of you, or Manoso really is behind it all.

"What are you saying? That there is a possibility that Ranger did all of this himself?"

"This is what I think. Either Sebring is after you for what he believes you did to change his destiny, or he is after Manoso for the same reason. The only other possibility is … Now, hear me out on this."

I slumped back in my chair. I knew where this was going, and I didn't like it.

"What if Ranger actually did the boat and the garage?" Joe asked.

"He was with me when the garage blew up." I said defiantly.

"Okay, but what if there were more than one person helping him?"

"Do you seriously want me to believe that?"

"No. But that is the conversation that is being passed around the station. Manoso and his crew have been working hard to cover up the Sebring family murders. It is all about revenge. Les Sebring killed Jeanne Ellen Burrows. Payback is a bitch."

"That seems a little far fetched." I said.

"But is it?" Joe asked. "Manoso had one thing on his mind when he left the jail. He was going after Sebring. I knew what he was doing, and I let him go. I lie awake at night thinking about what a stupid move that was. If I would have kept him until morning, none of this would be happening. Les picked the perfect time to blow that boat up."

"Too perfect I you ask me." I said. "What if someone tipped him off. Sebring wanted Ranger to take the fall for this. Just like he wanted him to take the fall for Jeanne. Who else knew that he was getting out early?"

"Juniak signed the order, as a favor to Ranger. The captain knew about it, and a few of the cops were there when it went down."

"Who knew Sebring personally?"

"Mayor Juniak has been known to sit at the same table at events. My captain does also. I don't know if you would call them friends but Sebring gives a lot of money to the police department, and he funds plenty of programs for the city. I think that puts them both in tight with him. I doubt any of the cops knew him personally, but I can find out."

"Either of them could have easily tipped Sebring off. Warning him that Ranger was getting out."

"If that happened, was it to warn Sebring that he might become a suspect, or to let him know that Manoso had a chip on his shoulder and was out for revenge?"

"Maybe both." I said.

"Fingers keep pointing back at your buddies at Rangeman. I think Sebring knows this. It won't surprise me if he starts leaving evidence that implicates the whole team. It seems to me that he is fucking with Manoso's world. If I were him, I would be losing my shit right about now. Did you see how his jaw tightened when I told him what was happening? I'm surprised he didn't break a tooth."

Joe tried for a the drag of his beer, and put it down. "If I go back to the station and implicate either Juniak or my captain for conspiring with Sebring, I will lose my job. The most I can do is to find out who knew Sebring and who knew Manoso was being released early. Other than that, I have to keep my nose clean. I am between a rock and a hard place."

"Les Sebring is alive. I just have to prove it."

"No, Manoso needs to prove it. You need to be careful."

"I will be careful."

You don't get it Stephanie. This guy isn't playing. He will kill you. Not because you have been a pain in the ass, he will kill you because it will destroy Ranger. It would be the ultimate revenge."

"Revenge? You think Sebring is after Ranger because of Jeanne? I thought we already went through this. Ranger didn't kill Jeanne."

In Sebring's twisted little brain he might as well have. Seeing Ranger leave Jeanne's house triggered the lunatic to come forward and murder her. He probably blames your little boy toy for that happening. Maybe he believes it was Ranger's fault that he killed her. Hell, he might think Ranger did it. He is nuts. He might not even remember killing her. He could have made up a story in his head that implicates Ranger. He probably also blames him for what he did to his family. The guy apparently has gone completely over the edge. Your life to him doesn't matter. What does matter is destroying your boyfriend. He knows Ranger will loose it if you get killed. I think that is what he wants."

"What if someone was trying to kill you. Would you just hide out until someone else solved your problem?"

"That's different."

"How is it different?

"I'm not you."

"What? What is that suppose to mean?" I said defiantly. I was a little rattled with what he had said. I sat up straighter in my chair, and my chauvinistic pig radar was on full alert.

"It means that you fly way to close to the flame. You are like a battering ram. You charge into things. You get hurt. You get kidnapped. You get shot. You also land in all kinds of garbage. All I am saying is let someone else solve this one."

"That is bullshit, Joe. I can find this guy."

"There is no doubt that you could find him. Just do the cyber spy thing. Stay in that fortress of a building as much as possible and don't throw a red flag at the bull. Don't give that asshole any opportunities. He'll grab you. There is going to be a 24/7 surveillance on Manoso and his crew of misfits. No surprise there, but you didn't hear that from me. As it is, I am walking a fine line with my captain. My opinion as of late is not a popular one. I am going to get suspended if I don't butt out. "

Racks of ribs sat smoldering in front of us. A small dinner salad came with them. I guess they wanted to balance everything out. A loaf of fresh bread, sliced and warm sat on a separate plate next to a large slab of real butter. I guess if you are going to get bad news, it is better to wash it down with a worthy meal.

Joe signaled for a to go box. He hadn't even touched his food. "I gotta get back to work." Joe said. "They are going to want to talk to you. You're on top of the list of people they want to interview."

"What could I possibly tell them that they don't already know?"

"You are directly involved with this entire investigation, Cupcake. You know the suspect, you know Sebring, You are a key player in this whole jumbled cluster fuck. There are plenty of reasons. Just be available."

Ranger walked back into the restaurant as Joe stood picking up the box of ribs. "You will need to discuss this between yourselves." Joe said. "I need to get back and see if my job is still secure. I'll text you if anything interesting happens." Joe left, carrying the doggie bag of food.

I watched him as he walked up to the cashier and paid the bill.

"What did I miss?" Ranger sat back down and slid over to his spot next to the wall, like it was his own occupied space. He slid a plate of ribs over, and began the cutting ritual. I think they should give you little plastic gloves to eat ribs. Ranger, of course had minimal bbq splatter on his hands as he cut. Me, I had BBQ sauce everywhere. Even under my fingernails. If it wasn't for the complimentary bib, my shirt would have been covered before I began to eat. My lap too.

I recounted most of what Joe had told me as we ate. Including the theory of how Sebring is out for revenge. That the lead detectives are leaning dangerously close to the conclusion that he was responsible for not only the murders on the boat but also blowing up the cars in his own garage and leaving the note to make it look like Les Sebring had done these things himself. Ranger took hold of another rib, watching me as I told the story.

"What does Morelli think?" Ranger asked.

"He believes it was Sebring that threw the grenades. He saw him. 95% sure."

"And the other five percent?"

"Same as the detectives. There is always that possibility that this was all a ploy to get you off the hook for the revenge killing of Sebring. That it has been you all along. Trying to backpedal, making everyone believe Sebring is alive.

He thinks the most probable scenario is that Sebring hates you. He has been framing you from the beginning."

"So he thinks Sebring blames me for loosing his noodle? Interesting theory."

"Joe said that they are going to want to talk to me."

"I would be surprised if they didn't. You and I have been front runners in this investigation from day one. When I went into the police precinct yesterday with Rosewall I got the impression that it was suppose to be a break down interview- you know, uncomfortable chairs, bad lighting, no bathroom breaks, bad breath blown into your face for hours. None of that would fly with my attorney sitting there. I expect Joe will be on leave by the end of the week."

"It's possible someone might have tipped off Sebring about getting out of jail early."

"Like who?"

"Someone who knew him personally, maybe."

"Who knew I was getting out?"

"Joe, Rosewall,Juniak, the chief of police, and a few cops that had been there when it happened."

Ranger picked up one of the ribs from the plate in front of him, taking the sharp knife to cut it from the rack. I followed suit. We ate in silence. Both stuck in our own thoughts about what implications that had been put out on the table. It almost seemed impossible that the department would think Joe was leading them down a false path and even more incredible to believe that the detectives would believe that Ranger was a suspect.

"Joe will go nuts if they put him on leave." I said, thinking aloud. I took another rib. I had already devoured two. But they were so good. I had to have at least one more.

"It would be good for him. Joe should take some time off. He has a baby coming. Trisha should too. They won't get a lot of free time once he or she is here." Ranger said.

"He might not feel that way. He said he needs to work." I said. "If he is put on leave, maybe he could freelance with us."

Ranger glanced up from the rib. "Us?" He stopped eating and waited for me to answer him. His eyebrows were raised in anticipation. It was the number one position in Ranger eyebrow moves.

I suppose I had already come to terms with the whole scenario of working along side the men of Rangeman. I took another bite of the rib, trying to stall as I thought about it a little more. I wasn't really thinking he was listening all that well, but his spidey sense must have been working over time.

I cleared my throat. "Okay, so I have decided to take you up on your offer, temporarily."

Ranger dropped the bone on his plate, and cut another one. He leaned back against the wall.

"That won't do. It's not a temporary position. If your in, your in."

"What, like a gang? I said sarcastically. "Do I need to cut my finger and sign my name in blood, like the Illuminati?"

"Maybe." Ranger said, cocking his head to the side. "I would have to check with Tank and Hal."

"Seriously?" It was my turn to raise my eyebrows.

Ranger put down the bone he was gnawing on, and wiped his fingers with the wet towel the waitress had so gratefully handed us. "Okay, seriously. Its not something that you can float back and forth into. It is a commitment to the team, to the company. My security company. I will jealousy defend it. I need you to feel the same way. You would be a partner, as in you would own part of the company. Not temporarily. Partners stay. But I promise we won't jump you in or make you eat feces."

I pushed my plate away. Maybe I would get the rest of this to go. I took a deep breath. "Okay, so what does it entail then?"

"If you are seriously considering partnering with us, then I need to call a meeting. Hal and Tank need to be there. Then we can discuss it."

"Not now? Can't you at least give me an idea of what I would be getting myself into?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because some things are worth waiting for."

I stayed downstairs on three and worked on one of the company computers that didn't have a webcam. The whole "I'm watching you" thing had successfully freaked me out. I decided to start by making a fake Facebook account. Then I went into all the boating groups and asked to join. It might take a few days for anyone to approve me. I shut down the computer. The boating community would welcome a fellow seafarer with open arms. I just had to wait for the approval.

I took the stairs back up to the apartment. Ranger was in his bedroom, there was a duffel bag on the bed. It was open, half packed. A manila folder sat on the bed. The flap turned down and bracketed. He was quietly going through the drawers of his dresser. The silence sliced through me like I had been stabbed in the heart.

"Are you leaving?" The volume of my voice cascaded slightly upward as I panicked before the last word had hit my lips. Earlier Joe had called in to tell us that he had been officially suspended. He said that when he came back from lunch, it had already been set in motion. They had found a tooth in the debris from the wreckage of the boat. Apparently he was the only one to question how one tooth made a dead man. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. They told him to take some time off. Maybe Trisha's pregnancy was causing him to be irrational. Joe let me know that there were papers on the chief's desk to formally arrest Ranger.

"I'm not leaving Trenton." Ranger said quietly. "I have a choice. I can sit in a jail cell and let my life and my business die in front of me, or I can do something about it. I'm choosing the proactive approach. I tried it their way, and now I am accused of not only Jeanne's murder but also the murders of Les Sebring and his family. I need to do things my way. I have ran out of friends at the department. I'm going to be in the wind for a while. Tank and the team know what to do."

Ranger dropped clothes and socks into the bag and zipped it up. "You will be safe if you stay here. If you go wandering around trying to solve this for me, he will kill you. Then all will be lost, and he will have won."

I was frantic. I didn't want him to leave. "It doesn't all have to be about you, Ranger. When the police find out you are gone, It will take all their doubts away. It will prove to them that you are guilty. They will put out a warrant. If they find you, they might kill you."

He flung the duffel over his shoulder, watching me. "They won't kill me. I won't give them a reason. I need to clear my name, Babe. I am running out of options. If Joe is right, they are going to arrest me. By the time they figure this shit out, Sebring will probably have not only killed you, but he may go after my family. He might even go after your family. I have to do this."

"Then I am coming with you."

Ranger laughed. "No way."

"Why not? You can stop that arrogant libido driven desperado act, too. I can help you."

He dropped the duffel and instantly overpowered me. He picked me up by my waist and kicked my legs out from underneath me,dropping me onto the bed. I struggled as he pulled my arms up above my head and held them there with only one arm. His leg held both of mine,trapped beneath him. His body leaned heavily on mine, keeping me still. As much as I tried, I couldn't move. His face was inches from mine.

"You can't go with me."

Twenty minutes later we were in the sewers. The papers were drawn up and signed. Rangeman was now officially in Tank and Hal's name. God, I hated the sewer. What in the hell was I thinking?